The only problem was Alexi. That could be taken care of with sweet words and false intentions. Or perhaps better with honeyed words and ulterior motives. Yes. Okay, so it was chill...
Now what about the tactics? Remember, tight on the curves and hips forward! Fuck, you’d think he’d remember hips forward, but no! Okay and the jumps around the third turn, keep elbows in. God he would love to fuck Allyson. When Alexi’s gone, he would bury it in her. The bitch!
What if they knew about that time at the boathouse? Fuck, it was just children playing. They’d crucify him. Alexi would love that, wouldn’t he? Hips forward! God that made him hard. Fuck! He was going to win!
He’d show them. They probably knew. Fuck ‘em. He didn’t care about those fuckers or that derby anyway. In the scheme of things, what the fuck, anyways?