Owned by a Speed Racer

1

“What the?” Ian sat bolt upright when I entered his room. It's 8 am in the morning but I'm already dressed in my school uniform. He shot me an annoyed look before covering himself with a thin blanket that’s doing little to hide his topless body.

"What are you doing here? Paano ka na naman nakapasok?” he asked angrily but I ignored him. I sat on the plush beanie in front of his bed and settled my eyes on his face. He looked darn cute with the messy hair and sleepy voice. If he wasn’t already a racer, he could pass as an international model with those striking physical attributes.

"Good morning, my dear boyfriend." I greeted with a vibrant smile.

His expression didn't change, he still looked pissed off with me. "Answer me! Paano ka nakapasok? I’m pretty sure I instructed my househelp to always close the gate when she takes out the trash. This is the fourth time you barged inside my house unannounced!”

I shrugged. “You’re not supposed to get angry. You’re supposed to be happy to see me. You’re supposed to give me a hug and I’m supposed to push you away and pretend that I don’t like it. Shall we have a do-over, Ian?”

Groaning, he took a pillow and put it above his face. He faced the other side and decided it was best to pretend I wasn’t there. “Will you please get out of my room?” He moaned from under the pillow after a few minutes of lethal silence.

"Nope." I stood up from the beanie and sat on the other side of his bed. I poked his shoulder repeatedly until he was forced to acknowledge my presence.

“God, you are so annoying!” What is the term Mom uses when she sees Daddy frowning? Oh, I remember. Bugnutin. That’s what Ian is right now. He’s being so bugnutin.

"Why are you so bugnutin, Ian? That’s not how you treat your girlfriend. We became a couple just the other month but you're already shouting at me." He shot me daggers with his eyes. 

"Ang kulit mo kasi! Ano bang gusto mo’t ang aga aga ay nambubulahaw ka sa bahay ng iba?"

"What is nambubulahaw?" My eyebrows creased to convey confusion. I really hate it when someone uses a word I’m not familiar with.

He palmed his face. "Just tell me what you need, Daze."

"I want you to drive me to school," I admitted while crossing my arms. His eyes widened as if he couldn't believe I asked for such a petty request. But hey, I think it's sweet when your boyfriend drives you to school.

"Why don't you do that yourself, huh? I'm sure you can afford to ride a cab. Hell, I'm even sure you have a family chauffeur, so why are you pestering me?" He was wearing his frown again but all I can think of was how hot and cute he looks at the same time. He sure is rocking the just woke up look. I’m one fortunate girlfriend!

"Because you're my boyfriend. Meaning you’re supposed to do those kind of stuff for me, right?" I raised an eyebrow but he just grunted like an ogre. “Up, up, you lazyass!”

I walked to the other side of the room to study the paintings that hung on the walls. A mixture of abstract and realism. My mother owns a glorious amount of luxurious paintings as well. No doubt that she would buy the Mona Lisa if it was to be put on sale. Talk about an obsession with art.

“You seem to like art so much.” I pointed out as I remembered the paintings that were on his living room. Some were real life scenarios, others were scenery.

"Yeah and you seem to be good at being an infuriation.” I made a sharp turn after he made that comment and saw him straightening up. Teed off with his biting comeback, I took my left shoe off of my foot and took aim. Bulls-eye!

"What the hell, Daze? Bakit ka ba palaging nambabato? You have some serious issues!” He grabbed my school shoe and threw it to the far side of the room. "Remind me again why I agreed to be your boyfriend, brat."

I gave him a smirk. "You fell for my charm. Almost everyone does, so it isn’t really a surprise. Also, no one is bold enough to say no to this brat."

He pushed his hair away from his face and did some stretching. He closed the blinds that I opened earlier and flicked the light switch open. "How did you get here anyway?"

"I hitched a ride from a friend and asked her to drop me here."

"Why didn't you just ask that friend of yours to drive you straight to school then, huh, genius?"

I rolled my eyes for the second time. "Because it's a boyfriend's duty. So what are you waiting for? Go take a bath now. You smell like a dead rat.” I teased.

He seems to be contemplating whether to give me a snarky comment but swallowed it down at the last moment. Instead, he walked off to his bathroom with heavy footsteps. I walked to the other side of his room to pick up and wear my left shoe. Afterwards, I headed to his bathroom door and knocked twice.

"What?! Don't tell me you're going to barge inside my bathroom, too!"

"You wish, Ian. A fair invitation if you'd ask me but nah. I'm saving your body for the honeymoon."

"Luka-luka!" He shouted. I frowned and took my phone out. I googled the definition of luka-luka and when I read what it meant, I irritably kicked the bathroom door with a loud grumble. “I am not baliw! Damn you!”

When he did not answer, I decided to sit by the piano on the corner of the room and started to play the only piece I’ve committed to my memory. I played but I did not sing. My older sister, Ate Alexiana, is the one with the nice voice and Kuya Alexander is the one expert with the piano. They are twins and they share the same love for music. While I, I guess I was the oddity in all the Monteverde children. I wasn’t good with any craft. My brother, Kuya Zade, is the family brainiac. Trust him to know about literature, science and math. I couldn’t even name any of Edgar Allan Poe’s works or tell the correct order of the planets, much less remember the Pythagorean Theorem.

Despite me turning out to be a little bitchy – okay, fine, maybe not just a litte – my parents adore me. They never made me feel like I didn’t belong with my siblings. I was always pampered and looked after, and for that, I would always love them, too.

My eyes roamed around Ian’s room. I noticed how bland it looks like. Except for the paintings, everything is a mixture of the colors charcoal and grey. It makes me wonder why men, even my brothers, have awful taste in design. This room looked lifeless and dull. “I’ll give you a makeover one day once we’re married,” I stupidly giggled.

I was broken from my reverie when I heard the bathroom door slide open. A dripping wet Ian came outside with only a short towel covering the lower half of his body. I knew I was supposed to avert my gaze but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I watched as a drop of water rolled from his face onto his chest. The drop continued rolling until it disappeared under the towel.

Damn, I want to see where that drop went! a naughty part of me thought.

"Done ogling, Daze? Wipe that drool on the side of your lip." I shot him a death stare. He’s not the only one who knows how to give death stares here.

"Actually, no. I think I'm going to stare at it some more." And I did. I thought I heard him chuckle but that must be my imagination. He held my arm and gently dragged me outside his room. He closed the door and I heard the lock click.

I blinked several times before pounding my fist against it. "Ian Lexus, let me in!"

"No. I'm going to get dressed. I can't let you see the full package, Daze. Can you do me a favor and behave even just for a few minutes? Jesus, your high-pitch voice will wake up everyone in this village."

“You’re over-reacting! I just want to stay inside your room and scan through your stuff. It’s not like I’m going to peek at you while you get dressed.”

"I didn't say that you’ll peek. Now, just zip your mouth and wait for me or I will not drive you to school." I bit my lip and counted to ten before I went down to his living room. His helper, Nana Nita, smiled at me and I smiled back. She gave me a sandwich and I packed it inside my school bag. She reminds me of my Nana Soling because they have the same gentleness in their eyes. Nana Soling has been with us since my mother was a teenager, and with the old age, my parents made her look over our family house in Bicol instead.

A series of steps made me look at the top of the stairs and there he was, looking as dashing as ever. Rugged jeans and a plain dark blue shirt. Who knew an outfit that simple could twist my stomach into knots?

"Handsome. I look handsome, I know. Stop staring, Daze. Baka lumuwa ang mga mata mo." He walked down the stairs and grabbed a glass of readily-prepared orange juice sitting on top of one of the counters. “Like what you’re seeing?”

I made ismid. "You are mahangin, do you know that?"

He grinned after he emptied the glass. He set it atop the counter again and took slow steps toward me, no doubt so I could check him out further. "Why don’t you try speaking Tagalog? Amerikanang hilaw. I’ve never once heard you speak a full tagalog sentence. Kahit na lumabas na tayo ng tatlong beses.”

"Excuse me? I have American roots! What do you mean amerikanang hilaw!”

"See? You look cute speaking our native language with that accent. It works for you,” he smiled. He c****d his head, an indication for me to follow. We went to his garage and he typed a password on the LED panel on the side of the wall. The large metal door clinked and lifted, giving me a wide view of his cars. His red Ferrari was there, and the yellow and black Mustang, too. The race cars were at the back, glimmering proudly under the fluorescent lights.

"Put as much distance as you can from my babies," Ian said with an upturned brow. He fished his keys from his pocket and twirled it around his fingers.

"I’m your girlfriend. You should call me baby. Not these cars.”

"Girlfriend kita pero hindi ka sanggol." My eyes narrowed. I walked over to the Ferrari and faced him. “Oh, really?” I acted as if I was going to kick the car and his eyes widened in fear and sudden panic.

"No! Daze, f**k!”

“Hindi ako sanggol, right?” I jested with an evil beam.

He looked defeated as his shoulders sagged. He scratched his chin as if only now realizing what he’s gotten himself into. We’ve seen each other thrice, excluding today, since I first sneaked inside his house. He should’ve known how impulsive and incredibly petulant I can be. “Stop. Okay, okay. Calm down, baby."

A triumphant smile split my lips. "Come here, let's get you to school,” he said in a forced tone. He clicked his key and the Audi near the garage door beeped. We walked over to the car and he opened the door to the driver’s side and quickly slipped inside. Chivalry is dead with this guy. Rolling my eyes, I circled to the shotgun seat and almost slammed the car door close.

"Buckle me up." I said in a commanding tone after I put my school bag on the backseat of his car. The inside smelled like his perfume, and damn, I can already feel myself getting lost in it!

He looked at me, eyebrows furrowed. "Pati ba naman ‘yan, Daze? Do it yourself, what are those hands for!”

"My hands hurt,” I pouted like the childish person I know I am. Giving up, he reached forward to buckle my seatbelt. The grin on my face did not go unnoticed.

"Thanks, baby!" I clapped, delighted that I’ll be on car ride with him.

"I can’t believe I’m driving a spoiled heiress to school,” he sighed before he started the engine.

“You’re driving thid spoiled heiress crazy, too.” He groaned, annoyed with my banat. Nana Nita opened the gate for us and Ian drove out. I looked at him, laughing, because I’ve been fantasizing about this moment the first time I laid eyes on him in one of his races. The first ever race I attended was with Kristina. She and her brother were avid fans of speed racing. I was forced to attend with the two of them because I wanted to have some reason to skip the family lunch that Sunday.

When we got there, I could remember complaining about how jampacked and noisy the place was. Naturally, they both ignored me and got me a soda and cheesedog to shut me up. After an hour of waiting, the announcer declared that the race would start in a few minutes. The crowd roared and cheered while I stayed silent and tried my best to look like I was enjoying. The names of the racers flashed on the screen along with their pictures.

Carlo Rick Marciano. George Jackson. Alfred De Gano. Luis Thompson. Frederick del Valle. Rueven Tabalina. Ryan Samson-Smith. Craig Johnson Vincent. Lee Ramirez. Ian Lexus Estillore.

My eyes were trained on the last one. He had a catchy and playful smile, as if he knew a secret the whole world does not. His thick black lashes were a good decoration to his communicative russet eyes. His lips, slightly chapped, looked inviting. His stubble, instead of making him look shabby, only added up to his charisma. A single earring glistened on his left ear, just a small diamond.

“You okay?” Kristina asked and I looked away from the huge screen.

“Yes,” I lied. I took a deep breath, knowing right there and then, that his smile would be in my dreams for the night and in the other nights that would follow.