#Junkie (GearShark, #1)

by Cambria Hebert

It wasn’t the size of the engine in the car. It was the size of the engine in the man. My engine? It was so big it was limited edition.

Go-cart = an old Big Wheel I took the handles off and glued an old spare steering wheel to the top. My mom about had a heart attack that day. I still don’t know what all the fuss was about. I’d worn a helmet.

I don’t like French fries. I love them. Golden and crispy on the outside, warm and potatoey on the inside, with just enough salt to make it like a damn party in my mouth. With ketchup. A man couldn’t eat fries without a bucket of ketchup. And not some off-brand, bottom-shelf kind of ketchup. There was only one ketchup: Heinz.

Agree with the ketchup, there are only one: Heinz.

Next I flipped the top off my burger, picked up the two slices of tomato, and tossed them onto Trent’s plate. Did I mention I don’t like tomatoes? Yes. I know that’s what ketchup is made of. He picked up one of the slippery-looking red, seedy slices and shoved it in his mouth. Trent didn’t like ketchup, but he loved tomatoes.

I always ate half his fries. I had an addiction. He was my enabler. Besides, I paid him in tomato slices.

College is like being on the starting line of a race, revving your engine to go.”

I combed my hair, too—well, with my fingers. Swept it up and over to the side using some of the wax shit Ivy told me I needed. I didn’t argue when she handed me the jar a while back. I only argued with my sister over shit I cared about.

It meant a lot to have the support of everyone for this. I’d always had a big family. I grew up in one. But family seemed to take on a new meaning when I moved here to be closer to my sister. There was something special about family by choice. It wasn’t blood that held us all together. It was loyalty. Love.

I didn’t have any brothers or sisters by birth, so having them now sort of filled a void in my life I hadn’t realized was there. Basically, I loved them.

Did not only all women, but all men not stand a chance against the blond-haired, blue-eyed French fry snatcher?

Apparently, one kiss from Drew was like the equivalent of an overdose of Viagra.

My name is Drew Forrester. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with my best friend. Who’s a guy.

I felt about Trent the way I felt about racing. Just as racing and cars were a part of me, so was he.

Trent was a paradox, and not many people saw. He was strong. But there was something impossibly vulnerable about him.

This guy was turning me into a marshmallow.

“That drives my mother crazy. All that money on braces and my tooth still won’t do what it’s told.”

Labels were for food, and while I’m mighty tasty, I did not qualify as food.

might not be a morning person, but I was a Trent person.

She grinned and held out her arms. “You have to finish your breakfast first,” Ivy told her. Her lower lip wobbled, and I reached into her seat and pulled her out anyway. “You can’t just give her everything she wants.” Ivy scolded me. “Why not?” I asked. “That’s what Braeden does for you.” “He’s got ya there, baby,” B said, coming up behind her to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

I liked the way his jeans hugged his narrow hips and cupped his butt. I liked the long strides he took when he walked. He was powerful-looking, almost intimidating. His heart was kind. His lips were soft, and I liked the feel of his skin against mine. He was basically everything I could ever want in life rolled up into a single person.

“You’re my person,” he concluded after a moment of silence. “My exclusive person.” I laughed. “Your exclusive person, huh?” He nodded. The scruff on his jaw scratched against my chest. “And I’ll be yours.” “Kind of like out of everyone—women and men alike—I’m the person you chose,” I mused. “I like it.”

Yeah, I was one lucky bastard. I was his. He was mine. My person.

It was him—plain and simple. It was having my best friend become my lover, my heart, and the center of my world.

voice had gone quiet. Deadly. That was a dangerous tone for Braeden.

He was beautiful. A fucking beautiful, stubborn man. I’d love him for the rest of my life. And then I’d love him longer.