"You look beautiful," Carter appraised Lydia with a lustful look as she climbed into his classic mustang. Her senses were overwhelmed in an instant. A mixture of Hugo Boss, leather and nicotine created an overwhelming scent that ignited a foreign form of excitement.

The street lamp cast a shadow on the car, his window was half way down as he held a cigarette between his thumb and index finger, the smoke and his cold breath billowing together.

"Thanks," Lydia blushed and pulled her seat belt on as she admired how incredible he looked. The soft hood of his leather jacket was rested on his brown hair. His slim fit grey jeans complimented the outfit, offering a lighter shade in his otherwise dark appearance. "You look hot."

He gave her a sideways smirk and threw the butt of his cigarette out the window before he leaned across the centre and cupped her neck, driving their mouths together in a kiss that made Lydia's head spin.

"So," Lydia attempted to steady her breath once Carter leaned back in his seat and shifted the stick into gear. "What are we doing?"

"Still up for a little thrill?" He pulled away from the curb and the engine roared as it took off down the street.

"Yeah."

"Good," he grinned, offering no more explanation.

"I love this car," Lydia leaned forward and caressed the dash. It was clear that the interior wasn't original but she admired that the classic look was kept. "This isn't a GT model but it sounds like it's got a V8 engine? The late 65s usually come with a 3.3 litre?"

He turned his head and stared at her with an impressed expression before he turned his head back to the road. "You know your cars."

"Yeah, my grandpa is big on classic cars. He owns the show room in town."

"Oh of course," Carter gave a nod.

"This is a six speed as well," Lydia pointed at the shift stick. "That's not standard."

"I had the engine rebuilt," Carter informed with a glowing smile. "I love the look of the late 65s. I'm not big on the GT models. Some people are into them. But I wanted the guts so I replaced the motor and gearbox."

"It's incredible."

"Thanks beautiful."

Lydia didn't want to spend the entire time ogling him as they traveled. But she couldn't help but admire his form as he drove through the night. The burnt yellow shade illuminated his sharp features whenever a streetlamp shone upon them. His hand kept curled around the gear stick, shifting it up and down with flawless transition. He looked beyond hot behind the wheel.

After about half n hour, Carter pulled off the main road, driving up a dark twisted road that was void of street lamps or the luminous of house windows. It was deserted. But it didn't take long until Lydia could see a bright glow around a wide bend and when they turned the corner, dozens and dozens of cars were parked at the bulb of a long road which veered off in another direction.

"This is the race strip," Lydia murmured, staring out at all of the vehicles that were parked with their lights on.

"You've been?" Carter questioned.

"No, just heard of it."

Hundreds of people walked between the vehicles, girls wore outfits that should have resulted in frostbite at this time of the year. Engines rumbled. Music thudded.

Lydia was so entranced at her surroundings that she hadn't realised the car had come to a stop. Outside it appeared that the starting point was only a few meters to the left and there was a car sitting in wait with its driver leaning on the door, conversing with a small crowd.

"You race?" Lydia questioned Carter who was watching her with a cautious look.

"Yeah and it's not because I need cash or any sob story like that. It's just fun," he chuckled. "And I'm up next."

Lydia nodded, watching as he stared out the window at the growing crowd that was starting to gather. He turned back to her and laced his fingers with hers, piercing her with an intoxicating gaze.

"I don't want to leave you alone, but I don't want to pressure you into coming with me," he explained with a soft voice. "You can watch from the sidelines with a friend of mine or you can come with me. There's no pressure Lyds. I won't think less of you whatever you decide."

"Doesn't the cold make it dangerous?"

"It's a straight line," Carter explained, popping a cigarette between his lips. "It's safe. I've done it tons. But like I said, no pressure."

Lydia chewed on her lip as Carter cupped his hands around the stick in his mouth, lighting up while she mulled it over. She trusted Carter. She believed that if he told her it was safe, then he meant it. Sure, things could go wrong, that was always the case in a car. But she came out for a thrill and so she took a deep breath and smiled as he used his free hand to hold hers.

"I'm in."

—

I'm going to see Infinity War today. Wish me luck that I don't turn into an emotional vegetable.