𝐋𝐚𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐬 ❺

Chapter 4

“You scare me, woman.”

“Shut up.”

The taxi pulled over at some place called ‘Exotics Racing at Auto Club Speedway’. Steve didn’t know why he had a great feeling about this. He had never even been interested in car racing, let alone expensive cars. His car back in LA was an old Ford Mustang. Sharon, on the other hand, drove a Jaguar. She even had an Aston Martin. Her love for British stuff hurt every fiber of his patriotism. Expensive cars were beautiful but they were not necessary.

Natasha dragged him inside of the building and the staff came and showed them around. Natasha finally persuaded Steve to spend a crazy amount of money in a way he never had before.

“You can choose a combo set of two cars if you want to drive separately and you can choose whatever car you want.” The staff explained. “We also provide you with a brief racing and safety instruction.”

“Okay, we will choose the two car combo.” Steve said.

Then the staff took them to the garage to choose their car and amount of laps. Steve chose a Lamborghini Aventador while Natasha picked a Corvette Stingray (Steve loved her choice so much because she picked an American car rather than an exotic Italian car).

“Are you sure? You can’t beat me in that car.”

“The car is only as good as the driver, Steve. I think I can beat you in a Corvette.”

“We will see about that.”

Then they proceeded to argue and a wager was soon placed. Natasha told him that if he lost the bet, he would have to let her decide on everything they would do for a week and if he won, he could do anything that he wanted for the week and she would not talk him out of it. (She definitely would talk him out of it!)

“Sir, that will be $1,390.”

Steve was busy arguing with Natasha and just pulled his wallet out, handing his credit card to the staff. After that, they spent half an hour in the classroom and had the instructor brief them about safety, racing, and how to drive properly on the racing track.

Natasha was a perfect distraction to be honest. The way she wore those shorts and the way she crossed her legs like that. The way she bit her lips as she took notes, not to mention her always throwing paper at him when she discovered that he was staring at her.

“Stop staring and pay attention to the class, Rogers.” She hissed at him.

“It’s really hard to stop.”

She hit him in the arm, probably too loud,for the instructor turned to look at them. They sat still, pretending to pay attention as if they were troublemaking high schoolers.

“Those are all the safety measurements and informationyou should know about racing.” the instructor said. “Now you can follow Christina to your car.”

The two of them were led to the changing room to change into the racing suits, then followed Christina to the garage. The black and red Corvette was parked next to an orange Lamborghini Aventador. The racing instructors handled them each a helmet before teaching them how to operate the communications system in the helmet.

Then they had to take the first lap with the instructor before they could race on their own. The teachers taught them how to properly take a sharp turn, how to avoid the understeering or over steering, and many other things about the racing track.

When they were both confident enough to drive alone, that was when the real race began. They were at the starting line, revving their engines and glaring to intimidate the other before the race started. Then their eyes turned back to the lineman, who waved a flag signaling the start of the race.