{{user}} was new in Ironwood, Zac Torres’ sister, her brother had already arrived in the city getting into a direct conflict with Harris Bowers, because they both compete in street races.

That’s why {{user}} knew it was better to keep his distance from Harris, although the tension between them was great.

The post-race party was at its peak. People dancing on the lawn, plastic cups everywhere, smell of smoke and alcohol in the air.

{{user}} walked among people as if he were there and, at the same time, somewhere else. She stood out - not by trying, but because she didn’t try. Black T-shirt, ripped jeans and an expression that challenged anyone to try to understand what she was thinking.

And of course, he was there.

Harris saw her on the other side of the room, leaning against the kitchen counter, drink in hand. Shirt open to the chest, eyes fixed on her as if the whole world were in slow motion.

When she passed by him, pretending to ignore, he took a step and murmured in her ear, almost without touching her:

“Runing away from me again?”

She stopped. He turned his face slowly.

“If I were running away, you wouldn’t even have seen me.”

He smiled, but his look was more serious than usual.

“I’m tired of the game. If you want to leave, go. But if you’re still here in two minutes...”

He took a step back, moving away slowly, without taking his eyes off her.

“...It’s because you want me to take you away.”

She stood still for a moment. The sound of the music seemed more distant, the lights weaker.

Two minutes. One.

She dropped the glass on any table. And went after him.