Frequencies of Us Chapter 73: Racing Hearts, Chasing Trouble

Mateo POV

I’m running hard on the Lincoln High track. The October sun beats down, hot on my shoulders. Noah sits on the bleachers, holding a stopwatch. His hair flops over his eyes, shining like gold. “Faster, or no kiss!” he yells, smirking at me. His voice makes my chest tight, a good tight. I push harder, legs burning, lungs screaming. The finish line blurs past. I stop, hands on my knees, chest heaving. Sweat drips into my eyes, stinging.

Noah jumps down, stopwatch clicking. “Not bad,” he says, grinning. I don’t wait. I grab his arm and pull him behind the bleachers. The metal’s rusted, cool against my back as I pin him there. My hands grip his hips, tight and sure. I kiss him hard. My lips crash into his, all teeth and heat. He tastes like mint gum and something sweet, maybe candy he snuck earlier. His laugh bubbles up, soft and shaky, right into my mouth. My heart slams, wild and happy.

His hands grab my shirt, pulling me closer. I press against him, feeling his body through his clothes. He’s warm, solid. I slide my tongue past his lips, deep and slow. He moans, quiet but real. My hands move up, under his shirt, touching his skin. It’s smooth, hot. I feel his ribs, his heartbeat racing under my fingers. He arches into me, needy. I love that. I love him.

I break the kiss, breathing hard. “You’re mine,” I whisper, my voice rough. He nods, eyes locked on mine. I kiss him again, softer this time. My hands slip lower, tugging at his jeans. He helps, pushing them down just enough. I feel him, hard already. My fingers wrap around him, stroking slow. He gasps, loud in the quiet. His head tips back, hitting the metal. I kiss his neck, sucking hard, tasting salt.

His hands fumble with my shorts. I help him, shoving them down. He grabs me, firm and warm. I groan, loud, too loud maybe. His touch sends sparks up my spine. I move faster on him, matching his rhythm. Our breaths mix, fast and messy. He pulls my hair, just a little. It’s perfect. I kiss him again, deep, swallowing his moans. My body’s tight, buzzing, ready to burst.

I press closer, hips rocking into his hand. He’s shaking now, close. I feel it too, building hot and fast. “Mateo,” he whispers, voice breaking. That’s it. I lose it, spilling over his fingers, a low growl ripping out of me. He follows right after, shuddering against me. We hold each other, panting, sticky and warm. His forehead drops to mine. We stay like that, breathing together, sweet and still.

I pull back, grinning. He smiles, shy but happy. I fix my shorts, then his jeans, my hands slow on him. He laughs, soft. “You’re crazy,” he says. I shrug. “Only for you.” My chest feels full, like it might crack open. I want to stay here, just us, forever.

Then a voice cuts through. “Fairy Dash caught a spark, huh?” It’s Ryan. My stomach drops. I turn fast. He’s standing there, twirling a spray can. His jock buddies snicker behind him, eyes mean. “Ortiz wants you gone, Vargas,” he says, smirking bigger. My fists clench. I step forward, ready to swing. Noah grabs my arm, holding me back. “Don’t,” he whispers. I hate that he’s right. Ryan’s not worth it. But his words burn, sharp and ugly.

I glare at him, chest tight with anger. He laughs, tossing the spray can up and catching it. “You’re done here,” he says. His buddies nod, crossing their arms. I want to wipe that smirk off his face. My hands itch to hit something. Noah’s grip tightens, keeping me still. I take a breath, trying to calm down. He’s warm behind me, steady. It helps, a little.

The dusk is turning dark now. Shadows stretch long across the track. Ryan steps closer, voice low. “Better watch your back.” My jaw locks. I’m about to snap, tell him off, when a light hits us. A flashlight beam, bright and sharp. It slices through the air, landing on me. I squint, raising a hand. Heavy boots stomp closer. A security guard’s voice barks out, loud and mad. “Vargas, you’re done!”

My heart stops. I freeze, staring into the light. The guard’s a big guy, his face hard. He’s coming fast, boots pounding the dirt. Noah’s hand drops from my arm. I feel cold without it. “What?” I say, voice shaking. The guard points at me. “You heard me. Move it!” Ryan laughs, backing off with his crew. They melt into the dark, still snickering.

I look at Noah. His eyes are wide, scared. My stomach twists. Is this Ortiz? After everything—the videos, the threats—did he send this guy? My mind races. The guard’s close now, flashlight blinding me. “Now, Vargas!” he yells. I don’t move. I can’t. Noah steps beside me, his shoulder brushing mine. “Mateo,” he says, quiet. I don’t know what to do.

The guard grabs my arm, rough. I yank back, instinct kicking in. “Get off!” I shout. He grips harder, pulling me toward the track. Noah’s voice cracks behind me. “Wait!” The guard doesn’t stop. My feet stumble, dragging. I twist, looking at Noah. He’s pale, reaching for me. My chest hurts, like it’s ripping.

Then I hear it. A low rumble, far off but growing. My head snaps up. Headlights flash in the distance, cutting through the dusk. A car, speeding toward the track. Fast. Too fast. The guard stops, turning to look. His grip loosens. I pull free, heart slamming. The car’s engine roars, loud and mean. It’s coming straight for us. Noah grabs my hand, pulling me back. “Run!” he yells.

We stumble, feet slipping on the dirt. The headlights grow, blinding. The guard shouts something, but I don’t hear it. The car’s close now, tires screeching. My breath burns in my throat. Noah’s hand is sweaty in mine, tight. We dive behind the bleachers, hitting the ground hard. The car skids, a sharp squeal. Metal crunches somewhere close. I look up, panting. The guard’s gone. The car’s stopped, lights glaring. A door slams open.