Chapter 1: Caught

I shouldn’t have done it.

That single thought kept looping in my head as I stood alone in the empty racetrack lounge, Rex Callahan’s black team jacket pressed tightly against my face. The rest of the building was quiet. Practice had ended over an hour ago. Most of the crew had already left for the night. Even the cleaning staff hadn’t come through yet. I told myself I only walked in here to grab my camera bag. That was a lie, and I knew it the second my eyes landed on the jacket.

It was draped over the back of the same chair he always used, still holding the shape of his shoulders, the collar dark with sweat. I had seen him peel it off earlier, laughing with one of the engineers, completely unaware that I was watching from across the garage. I had told myself to look away. I never did.

My fingers closed around the fabric before I could stop them.

The moment I lifted it to my face, my knees went weak. That expensive cologne he always wore mixed with pure male heat and the sharp scent of adrenaline. The same scent that lived on the towel I kept folded under my pillow at home. The same scent that had ruined me for years. I breathed him in like I was starving, eyes half-closed, and a soft, broken sound left my throat before I could swallow it.

I hated this.

I hated how wet I already was. I hated that the man I publicly called arrogant, reckless, and shameless was the only one who could make my body react like this. I hated that I had been sneaking his things for years, sweat towels, discarded shirts, even a pair of racing gloves once, and still couldn’t stop. Every time I told myself it would be the last time, I ended up right back here, breathing him in like an addict.

I hugged the jacket tighter to my chest and let my eyes fall shut. My mind went exactly where it always did, Rex above me, pinning me down, that arrogant mouth against my neck, those strong hands forcing my legs apart the way I had imagined a hundred times in the dark. I could almost feel the weight of him. Almost hear the low sound he would make if he ever found out what I did with his things when no one was looking.

“Fuck,” I whispered against the fabric. “I hate this so much.”

The door opened.

I froze.

Rex stood in the doorway, helmet tucked under one arm, dark hair still damp from the session. His racing suit was unzipped to the waist, the white undershirt clinging to his chest and stomach. Those sharp gray eyes locked on me instantly, on the jacket crushed against my face, the way I was holding it like it was the only thing keeping me upright.

The air left the room.

My mind went completely blank. I dropped the jacket like it had burned me and tried to walk past him as if nothing had happened. My legs didn’t cooperate. I only made it two steps.

A hard hand closed around my upper arm and yanked me back with zero effort.

My back slammed into the door so hard that the impact rattled through my bones. Rex’s body followed immediately, crowding me, one powerful thigh shoving between my legs and forcing my knees apart. The lock clicked behind him with a soft, final sound.

He leaned in until his mouth was right beside my ear. His voice was low, rough, and terrifyingly calm.

“What if your brother knew,” he murmured, “that his sweet little sister was so fucking desperate for his best friend’s cock?”

Heat flooded my face and raced straight down between my legs. I couldn’t speak. My pulse was hammering so hard I was sure he could feel it against his chest. His thigh pressed higher, right against the place that was already aching, and a humiliating sound almost escaped me.

Rex’s free hand slid up my side, slow and deliberate, until his thumb brushed the underside of my breast through my shirt. He didn’t squeeze. He just held me there, pinned and open, while his thigh kept that steady, devastating pressure.

“Tell me,” he said, voice darker now. “Should I tell Ethan that the girl who spends every race weekend calling me arrogant and shameless has been getting herself off to my shit?”

I finally found my voice. It came out shaky and useless.

“It’s not.... I wasn’t—”

“Don’t.” His thigh pressed harder. “I walked in on you inhaling my jacket like it was the only oxygen left in the building. You’re not walking out of this with a clean story, Aria.”

I tried to push him back. He didn’t move an inch. The solid wall of his chest stayed exactly where it was, trapping me against the door. I could feel how warm he was. I could smell the sweat still on his skin. It made everything worse. My body was reacting to him in ways I couldn’t control, and the worst part was that he could feel it too.

“How long?” he asked quietly.

I swallowed hard. “What?”

“How long have you been pretending you hate me?”

The question hit harder than the door at my back. I opened my mouth and nothing came out. My silence was answer enough.

Rex’s eyes dropped to my mouth, then lower, to the way my chest was rising too fast. Something shifted in his expression, surprise first, then something sharper and far more dangerous. Fascination. Like he had just discovered a secret he never expected to find and had no intention of giving back.

“Years,” he said, almost to himself. “Jesus Christ.”

He finally eased his thigh back just enough that I could close my legs, but he didn’t step away. His hand stayed on my waist, thumb still stroking that same slow line under my breast. The touch was light, almost lazy, but it felt like a brand.

“I’m not telling Ethan,” he said.

Relief hit me so hard my knees almost gave out. Then the next words destroyed it completely.

“But you’re going to pay for the secret, Aria.”

My stomach dropped. “What do you want?”

Rex’s mouth curved into that arrogant half-smile I had spent years publicly hating. The same smile that usually made me want to throw something at his head. Now it made my pulse race for an entirely different reason.

“I’ll let you know,” he said. “Until then… try not to get caught sniffing my clothes again. Unless you want me to watch.”

He stepped back at last, picked his jacket up off the floor, and shrugged it on like nothing had happened. The fabric still held the shape of my arms. He adjusted the collar slowly and deliberately, never taking his eyes off me.

At the door he paused and looked over his shoulder.

“See you around, Bennett.”

Then he was gone.

I stayed pressed against the door long after the sound of his footsteps faded, heart slamming against my ribs, thighs still trembling, the taste of pure panic and something much darker mixed on my tongue. My skin still burned where he had touched me. The place between my legs still throbbed with the memory of his thigh.

He knew.

He knew everything.

And the worst part wasn’t the humiliation or the threat hanging over my head.

The worst part was the small, traitorous part of me that already wanted to know what he would demand in exchange for his silence.

I pushed off the door on unsteady legs, grabbed my camera bag with shaking hands, and forced myself to walk out of the lounge like my entire world hadn’t just tilted sideways.

Outside, the night air did nothing to cool the heat still crawling under my skin.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out and stared at the screen.

One new message.

From Rex.

We’re not done talking about this.