The Fight In Us: A Brother's Best Friend College Romance (The Four Book 4) Becca Steele (speld decodable readers .TXT) 📖

to a stop next me and placed the mug and plate on my desk, pushing my keyboard back to make room.

“Mind the keyboard. It’s new.” I gave him a warning look, making him roll his eyes. “There’s no comparison with the cars. Mine’s far superior.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” He pushed the plate towards me. “Breakfast. Eat.”

“Thanks.” I picked up the bagel, taking a large bite.

“You’re welcome. Wanna take our cars for a drive later? Mack’s—”

“Fuck, no. I’m not taking my new Aston Martin to that shit excuse for a racetrack. Have you seen the surface? There’s more potholes than…” I cast around for a comparison. “Something really potholey.”

He raised a brow. “Never took you for a snob.”

“I’m not a snob. Just don’t want to total my car the first day I get it.”

A laugh burst out of him. “Fair enough. Since you won’t race, we can agree that I win by default.”

“If that’s what you want to tell yourself.”

After an unsuccessful few hours sifting through Martin Smith’s data and finding nothing, not even a hint of anything shady, my mood was low, to say the least. The Uber ride to the garage passed in a blur. The cab driver made small talk, but I couldn’t even say what the conversation had been about.

As soon as we pulled up at the garage, I saw the DBS Superleggera in the centre of the forecourt, all matte-black paint and black rims. Finally, my mood improved. Temporarily forgetting my stresses, a huge smile spread across my face as I left the cab and headed straight for my new car, trailing my hand over the smooth metal surface.

Fuck, yeah.

Joe, the forecourt manager, came out to greet me, and I followed him into his office.

“Morning.” He took a seat behind his desk, shuffling his paperwork before he slid a slim folder across the surface. “Just these few bits to sign, then she’s all yours.” Handing me a pen, he sat back while I read through everything.

The paperwork was completed in a few minutes, since we’d done most of it before the respray, and finally, I had the keys in hand, and the Aston Martin was officially all mine.

At last.

“Take good care of her. She’s a beauty, mate.” Joe patted the top of my car. “Runs like a dream.”

“I will.”

Leaving the garage forecourt behind me, I grinned at the low rumble of the engine thrumming through my body and the barely harnessed power of the car under my hands. I needed to get this baby out on the open roads so I could see what it was made of. This had been a long time coming.

My phone rang as I was driving back towards Alstone, and Cassius’ voice came through the speakers.

“How’s the car?”

“Better than yours and Cade’s,” I told him, just to wind him up.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” I just knew he was rolling his eyes at me. He cleared his throat. “Can you do me a favour?”

“What is it?” I changed lanes smoothly, noticing the admiring glance of the driver of the car I overtook.

“Can you pick Lena up from school?”

Lena. I’d managed not to think about her, but lately it was growing difficult to ignore her. Now she was friends with Winter, and she’d been involved in the whole business with Winter’s mother…she’d been around a lot more often.

Too often.

I wasn’t fucking immune. I had eyes and a dick, both of which liked the view.

But I couldn’t think of her that way.

Cassius was still speaking. “Her car’s in the garage, and I said I’d pick her up, but I’ve got a meeting with my economics professor that I can’t get out of. The fucker just dropped it on me.” His displeasure was clear from his tone. “Sorry, mate. I know you just got your new car, but I can’t get hold of Winter.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” I stayed casual. I was just doing a favour for my best mate’s sister. That was it. “Tell her to meet me out the front.” Disconnecting the call, I took the exit to Alstone, heading in the direction of my old school, Alstone High.

SIX

Waiting on the stone steps outside my school, leaning against one of the stone pillars that flanked the entrance, I scanned the road. All I had was a text from my brother to say he couldn’t pick me up, but he’d sorted a lift.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to wait with you?” My friend Raine peered up at me from where she was tucked under her boyfriend Carter’s arm.

“Do I look like the kind of person that needs someone to wait with me?” I raised a brow. Her reply was lost as the low growl of an engine cut through all the conversations.

“Fuck.” There was approval in Carter’s voice as we watched a matte-black car pull up, expensive-looking and sexy, if you liked that kind of thing. For me, cars were something to get you from A to B.

Okay, maybe I was a tiny bit impressed.

The car was forgotten as the driver pulled to a stop and climbed out, and my mouth went dry. With his attention focused on the crowd of students swarming around him, I let my eyes drink him in from head to toe, despite my brain flashing up warning signs. From his Nikes, up over his faded, ripped jeans, up over his grey T-shirt that clung to his lean, toned torso, up to his angular jaw, past the sunglasses that covered his amazing eyes, and stopping on his dark, almost black hair that was tousled like he’d been running his hand through it.

Wait. Did I just think his eyes were amazing?

I huffed and snapped my gaze away.

“What’s Weston Cavendish doing here?” Carter started down the steps, tugging Raine with him, and I had no choice but to follow.

I swallowed hard. “I think…I think he’s here for me,” I muttered.

“Nice wheels” was the first thing Carter said when we reached Weston. A