You were waiting on the sidelines, trying to scope out the competition.
A blonde haired, blue eyed guy stepped in front of you.
You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms.
"Sorry, I just think you're the prettiest girl here," he said, flashing an award-winning smile at you.
"I'm not one of the paid strippers," you informed him.
"I know," he pointed at your jeans and black v- neck t- shirt, "You're the most decent girl here. Which brings me to ask why you're here?"
"To race," you said, simply, smiling slightly.
He laughed in your face, as if you had just told him the funniest joke.
You glared.
"Oh, oh. You're serious," he realized, coughing and blushing, "Well, I'm racing too."
You both heard the horn, calling all racers to their vehicles.
You turned to walk, but he stopped you.
"My name's Brian," he told you.
"Y/N," you replied.
You walked away.
He followed behind.
"I'll see your pretty face at the finish line," he winked, jogging in front of you.
"Yeah, after i win. Get ready to have your ass handed to you," you smirked, getting in your completely remodelled 1978 Ford Mustang II Monroe Handler.
As you were each individually called to get ready, revving your engines, you noticed Brian was in the car next to you, with a car on his other side and a car on your other side.
You were in a race of four.
"Where's the challenge?" you muttered to yourself, grinning.
Brian looked over at you, rolling down his window.
You lowered yours, rolling your eyes.
"Be careful," he offered, looking serious.
You went to say something sarcastic, but held back, sighing.
"You too," you said.
You both rolled your windows up again.
When the flag flapped, you took off.
You forgot about the other players, as if you were the only one and you were just driving for fun.
You shut off your thoughts, focusing on pure instinct.
When you got within a mile of the finish line, noticing only one car by your side, you set off your tank which took you straight across and landed you first place.
You had one.
You got out of the car to receive your money.
You shoved it all in your glove compartment.
You noticed Brian had been the one you had beat.
"So, the whole time, you never used your tank?" he asked.
You shook your head.
"It would have been a waste," you explained, "Only use it when you're close, so if anything goes wrong, you still win."
Brian chuckled.
"Follow me?" he asked, getting in his car.
You hesitated, but got in your car as well.
You followed him to a beach of some kind.
"Why am I here?" you asked, smiling.
"Because I like you," he shrugged.
"So does this race count as our first date?" you teased.
"Only if we end it right," he grinned.
You sat on your hood.
"And how do we do that? Seems kind of cliche so far," you laughed.
Brian walked right up to you, standing in between your legs, sliding his hands under your thighs and pulling you close to him.
He kept his hands there as he kissed you deeply.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.
When you separated, Brian was beaming.
"I knew you liked me too. Even if i was cliche," he teased you.
You pushed him away, laughing.
"Shut up," you said.
He got in his car, while you stood next to yours.
"Your car or mine?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"If you think I'm leaving my car to run off with you, you must be an idiot," you replied.
"Marry me," he demanded, smiling and staring at you.
"Slow down, cowboy. We have plenty of time for that."
