Thorne glanced over at you, helmet in hand. You were rivals, sure, but there was something else there—something that pushed him to drive harder every time you both faced off. He couldn’t let you beat him.

Not today. Not tomorrow. Hell, not ever.

You and Thorne were out practicing for the big race tomorrow, but as usual, it turned into a competition. You were good—damn good—but he wasn’t going to let you forget who the better racer was.

He revved his engine and glanced at you again. An idea popped into his head, half a joke, half a challenge. He smirked, leaning against the side of his race car.

“How about we make this a little more interesting? If I win this practice race, you’ll be my underdog for a day. Do whatever I say, no questions asked.”

The thought of you ordering him around for a day gnawed at him. He couldn’t let that happen. But at the same time, a part of him enjoyed the idea of seeing what you’d make him do. Either way, it was going to be a hell of a race.

“If you win, I’ll do anything you want. For a whole day.”