Full Throttle
Lizzie Hart Stevens
Contents
Fast Lane
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Can’t Slow Down
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Full Throttle
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Coming Soon
Copyright© 2016 Lizzie Hart Stevens
Cover Design: Letitia Hasser, Romantic Book Affairs
Photographer: Wander Aguiar
Cover Model: Marshall Perrin
Formatting: Social Butterfly PR
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means such as electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Except for the original material written by the author, all songs and song titles mentioned in the book Full Throttle are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
“Come ti vidi
M’innamorai,
E tu sorridi
Perchè lo sai.”
– Arrigo Boito, from the Opera Falstaff by Verdi
“When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew.”
For everyone that believes in love at first sight.
Fast Lane
Prologue
Lexi
“What the fuck, Lex?” Patrick snaps at me as he walks into the house, slamming the door behind him. I’m sitting on the couch, reading the latest book from my favorite author, when he comes over and rudely interrupts me.
“What did I do now, Patrick?” I say, rolling my eyes. He walks up to me and grabs my face, one hand under my chin. He squeezes both of my cheeks, hard, and simultaneously pulls me to my feet. I am so close to him, my face less than an inch from his. It hurts, but instead of saying anything I grit my teeth and stare directly into his cold, gray eyes. I refuse to let him know he is causing me pain.
“For starters, babe, you took up the entire driveway with that piece of shit Ford of yours, and I had to park my Porsche on the curb. And if you roll your eyes at me again, you’re going to wish you hadn’t.” He pushes me away from him, finally letting go of my face.
“Jesus, Patrick, all you had to do was ask me to move my car. How was I supposed to know you were coming over? You didn’t call or text.” I massage my jaw as I turn and head into the kitchen. He inhales slowly, stretching his neck from side to side, and throws himself onto the couch.
“Bring me a beer while you’re in there!” Patrick is going to start drinking, we’re going to have horrible, boring-as-hell sex, and then he’s going to pass out and hog my entire bed all night. That’s just what I need after working all day. I reluctantly grab him a beer from the fridge and walk back into the living room.
I need to think of a way to get him out of here.
Handing it to him, I slouch down onto the couch. As he takes the beer from my hand, he sets it down on the coffee table and pulls me closer to him. With his left arm wrapped around me, he lightly brushes my cheek, urging me to look at him.
“I’m sorry, Lexi. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.” Patrick slides his hand under my shirt and kneads my breast. While he’s kissing his way down my neck he says, “You can just go move the cars after I get my fill of you.”
Oh, lucky me.
“On second thought, just move your car. I can’t have you scratching the Porsche.” He continues to fondle my breasts with his weak attempt at foreplay. I can’t do this anymore. I need a reason to get him to back off tonight.
“Patrick, we can’t tonight. I’m on my period.”
That’s the best I could come up with?
It works, I guess, because as soon as the words are out of my mouth he backs away in a huff. Little does he know, I was actually on my period last week. I’m running out of excuses. Fast.
One
Lexi
As I drive down the winding, tree-lined highway in my Mustang, I make a decision that I should have made months ago: it’s time to break up with Patrick.
When we first met, I was attracted to his soft gray eyes and lush, kissable lips. His muscular body wasn’t bad, either. His only downside? He has a crazy temper. It took a little time for him to show his true self. He would be totally sweet with me one minute, and the next thing I knew, he’d be spazzing out over something as small as not using a coaster under my glass of ice water. I just left him in a rush with some made-up story about getting called in to work tonight. Which was a lie. I only said that so he would let me leave. Which is ridiculous. I shouldn’t need an excuse to leave my own house.
While I got dressed, he kept rambling on and on and on about himself, his band, and his precious car. I’m all for taking good care of your vehicle, but he treats his like it’s worth millions and made of solid gold or something. Sure, it’s nice, and I mean, it is a chrome-colored Porsche 911 Carrera 4. It’s an expensive car, but at the end of the day it is still just a car. And I’d hope he could find something else to talk about. Like, why not ask me about my life once in a while?
I flick the blinker and make a right turn toward downtown. I’m not sure where I’m going yet, but I had to get out of the house.
Am I doing the right thing? Is Patrick going to flip out and go off the deep end when he realizes I’m seriously done? Maybe. But I can’t be with him forever. No freaking way. That’s why I’ve decided to end this now. It’ll save him from heartbreak later on, and save myself from the torture of dealing with his crazy mood swings.
I push the talk button on my steering wheel. “Call Brea.” After a few rings, she picks up.
“Hey, girl! What’s up?”
“Hey Bre, are you free tonight?” I ask.
“Sure am! Wanna meet up for dinner and drinks at Mary Jane’s?” She sounds excited to hear from me. Brea and I have been best friends since the day we met in first grade. We used to climb up to the top of the climbing dome on the playground and scope out all the cute boys together. Although we didn’t realize it until later years, she always seemed to go for the well-behaved, smart, preppy guys, while I had a thing for the bad boys who always seemed to get themselves into trouble.
“Yes, please! That would be perfect.”
“You okay, chick?” Brea asks, her voice laced with concern.
“Um…yeah. I’ll be better than ever soon. My best gal pal, a juicy burger from Mary Jane’s, and a few Whiskey Sours should do the trick.”
I make one last left turn onto Brea’s street.<
br />
“Sounds good! Shall I call us a cab? You know, just in case you need a few more whiskey sours than you think,” she giggles.
“You know me so well. What would I do without you, Bre?”
“Let’s hope we never have to worry about that.” I’m pretty sure I can hear her smile through the phone.
“See you in just a second!”
“Calling the cab now—I’ll have them pick us up in thirty minutes.”
I push ‘end call’ as I pull into her driveway and park.
Brea opens the door just as I’m walking up to her front steps. Her gorgeous, sandy brown curls are pulled up into a perfect ponytail, and her hazel eyes are highlighted by just a touch of makeup. “All right. Spill it, Lex. What’s going on?”
I walk inside and Brea shuts the door behind me. I toss my purse onto her dark cherry wood kitchen table and walk into the living room. She can always tell when I’m upset, even if I think I’ve hidden it. I sink down onto the couch and run my hands over my face. “I’m going to break up with Patrick.”
“What? Why? What happened? What did he do? Did he hurt you? I thought he was head over heels for you?” She’s shooting questions at me rapid fire.
“He is! I’m just tired of his crazy mood swings. I can’t handle it any more. He’s like a ticking time bomb.”
Brea walks over and sits down on the dark blue suede chair that’s off to the left of her couch. She looks at me with concern in her eyes. “You’re right, sweetie. You don’t need that shit,” she says.
“Plus, I don’t feel that spark that everyone always says you’re supposed to feel when you’re with ‘the one’. He needs to find someone that is willing to put up with his bullshit attitude,” I say, combing my hands through my hair.
Brea nods in agreement while chewing on the inside of her cheek. Suddenly, she jumps up. “I have an idea. Tomorrow, let’s go for those BFF tattoos we’ve been talking about! I’ll call Josh when I get home and set up an appointment for us. But for now, let’s go have those juicy burgers and drinks. I’m starving.”
I let out a deep sigh.
“Come on,” she says with a frustrated groan. “Whiskey Sours always cheer you up. Plus, that amazing smoky-flavored homemade ketchup that Mary Jane’s is famous for!” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.
“Okay, fine. Let’s go. Tonight, we’re going to drink until we’re silly, and tomorrow—” I trail off and let out another sigh. “Tomorrow, I will call Patrick and try to let him down as gently as possible. God, I hope he doesn’t freak the hell out.”
“Get your ass out the door, woman, or I’m leaving you here,” she says on her way out. “Cab’s here!”
“All right! I’m coming!” I say, pushing myself up off the couch. I grab my purse and follow Brea out, locking the door behind us.
Two
Lexi
We arrive at Mary Jane’s and get seated at table in the center of the main dining area. After a few moments, a waiter approaches our table. Nice looking guy. Tall, fit, short blond hair, and blue eyes. I’m such a sucker for gorgeous eyes.
“Good evening, my name is Jared. What can I get you lovely ladies to drink?” he asks, never seeming to break eye contact with Brea. I loudly clear my throat and smile in amusement. Brea is gorgeous, and all the men notice.
“I’ll have a Whiskey Sour, please, and a bottle of beer.”
“And for you darlin’?” he asks Brea. She blushes.
“Ummm, I’ll have a Strawberry Margarita, please.”
“Sure thing. I’ll be back with those for you both shortly,” he says, winking at Brea as he turns and strides away from our table. Brea is watching him the entire time. Once he’s out of sight, she glances at me out of the corner of her eye and starts to smirk.
“Oh my God, Brea.” We both burst out laughing like we’re back in first grade. She doesn’t even have to say anything. She just gives me that certain look, and I know exactly what she’s thinking: he’s hot. Just as the laughter subsides, she glances behind me toward the door, and her eyes become the size of sand dollars. “Bre…what’s—” A hand touches my shoulder, and I know immediately that it’s Patrick. Shit! Shit shit shit!
“Babe! What are you doing here?” he asks. His brow is furrowed, and he looks confused. “I thought you said you had to work tonight.”
“Uh, hi, Patrick, about that…”
Brea abruptly chimes in, “Oh they called her when she was on her way saying they didn’t need her anymore. I happened to be close by, so I snatched her up for a little girl time.”
Thank you! I mouth. I don’t want Patrick to see.
“Well, you girls don’t mind if I join you for a drink, do you? I was just going to grab some take-out, but since you’re here, I think I’ll stay.” He slides in next to me and places his arm around my neck.
“Of course we don’t mind,” Brea says. Just then, Jared comes back with our drinks. His mood seems to have changed. My guess is he’s a little perturbed by Patrick’s sudden appearance. Right there with ya, buddy. Right there with ya.
“Uh, hey man, what can I get you to drink?” Jared asks.
“I’ll just have a Pepsi,” Patrick says. “I’ll most likely be driving these ladies home later.”
“I’ll be right back with that,” Jared says, giving Brea another sweet look as he rushes off.
“So, Patrick, what’s your band working on right now? Where’s your next gig?” Brea asks. Patrick and his band mostly play weekend gigs at local bars and small charity events. He places his hand on my legs. It rests there while he proceeds to ramble on and on to Brea about the next set list they’re working on.
“Our current set list is so flawless, Brea. We’re going to be booked every weekend for the next three months at least. Our next gig is at the tavern on Highway 68 next Saturday night.”
Jared comes back right away with Patrick’s drink and takes the rest of our order. Thank God it doesn’t take long to get our food. I’m anxious to eat and get out of here. Fast. As I throw back my third drink, I realize I have a pretty good buzz going on.
I’m a lightweight, what can I say?
Maybe now would be a great time to end it with Patrick, while I have the courage. It’s almost like it was meant to be that he showed up and ruined our girls’ night. Like some greater power is trying to tell me to just hurry up and get it over with. I’ve made my decision. After we drop Brea off, I will tell Patrick it’s over. I can’t do this anymore.
He pays for our dinner, and the three of us walk out to his car. “Are you sure you don’t mind taking me home, Patrick?” Brea asks. “I can call another cab, really. Then you and Lex can have more time to talk. I kept you pretty busy chatting during dinner about the new set list and all.”
“No, Bre, it’s fine. We can take you home.” I hurry to answer before Patrick has a chance.
“Babe, are you okay? You’ve been acting strange all day. Are you coming down with something? Maybe I should stay the night so I can take care of you.” He looks concerned.
“I’m fine, Patrick. Just tired.”
The rest of the car ride to Brea’s place is quiet. I stare out the window and try to figure out a way to let Patrick down easy. It doesn’t matter how I say it, though. I know it’s going to crush him. I just hope he doesn’t go off the deep end. Ten minutes later, we arrive at Brea’s. She hops out and pops her head through the passenger side window where I’m sitting.
“Well, thanks for dinner, guys! Patrick, keep me posted on that gig in the city you were telling me about.”
“You bet, Bre. Goodnight.”
She and I exchange looks. She inhales deeply, nods at me, and says, “Lex, text me when you get home please.”
“I will. Goodnight, Bre. Love you.”
“Love you too, chick.” She kisses the top of my head and jogs inside as Patrick drives away. By now, the alcohol is starting to wear off, and I’m not feeling quite as brave as before. He reaches over and starts rubbing my knee.
> “Are you sure you’re okay, babe? Do you want me to stop at the store to get you anything? Crackers? Ginger ale? Soup?”
“Patrick, I’m not sick.” I’m agitated.
“Well, you’re acting strange,” he says, looking at me with concern.
“Yeah, about that. We need to talk,” I say, just as we pull up to my place. “Just park here on the curb, please.”
“But…I was hoping to stay over tonight. Since you don’t have to work now and all.” He sounds disappointed and hurt.
“I can’t tonight,” I say, looking down at my feet. “Look, Patrick, I care about you a lot, but I don’t think I can do this any more.”
“Do what, Lexi? What are you talking about? Are you breaking up with me? Maybe you should go inside and get some sleep, and we’ll talk about this tomorrow after the alcohol has worn off.”
“No, I can’t. We’re talking about this now,” I insist. “I’m sorry, Patrick. I really am. But I can’t keep pretending like I’m okay with your crazy mood swings all the time. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells around you. I just can’t do it anymore.”
“What brought this on all of a sudden? Was it because I freaked out that you were hogging the driveway? Fuck, I didn’t mean to scare you, Lex.” He runs his hands through his hair and rubs the back of his neck. He looks confused and frustrated, like he’s trying to figure out a way to fix this.
“Patrick, please,” I plead, hoping he’ll just accept what I’m trying to say.
“Please what, Lexi? You’re ripping my fucking heart out here! I didn’t realize…” His voice starts off escalated but then trails off into an inaudible whisper. He looks like someone just ran over his dog, and he’s on the verge of tears.
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