You stirred in bed, an uneasy feeling in your mind. This tour was stupid, the challenge was to spend as much time with your rival as you can before the race for the Piston Cup.

Your agent had agreed that the best way to win this challenge was to share a hotel room with none other then the infamous Jackson Storm. Your arch nemisis.

Despite his hesitance, Storm agreed, knowing you two weren't the only competitors and certainly not the last. Everything to him seemed a competition.

You kept flinching in your sleep and tossing and turning in bed. Were you seriously having a nightmare? One week before the race?

You jolted up, sitting up in bed as if you just emerged from underwater, your senses coming along as you heard a male voice.

"Take it easy." It was Storm, sitting at your side, concern written all over his face.