"Fuck!" Arya says. She opens the side compartment, the overhead panel, checks under the seats, but she can't find her racing gloves anywhere. "Fuck, fuck," she mutters. All the cars are in line, engines running. The whistle is going to sound any second, but Arya can't race without her gloves.

"Come on. Where are they?" Arya unbuckles and reaches over the back of her seat, hands patting down the black carpet, only finding fast food bags, crumbs, and old receipts. Windows cracked, Arya can hear the crowd outside, nervous, excited chatter streaming into her car.

Her hand sweeps over a wad of fabric and, "Yes!" She tugs the gloves from a tight spot between her seat and the car door. Arya shakes them out and then slides the supple leather onto her hands. As she finishes pulling on the second glove, a light flashes, and the whistle blows.

The cars next to her shoot off down the road. Arya grabs her stick shift, pulls the car into first, and guns the gas. "Fuck!" She screams one more time. How could she be so stupid? She just lost seconds on the start; there's almost no way she'll be able to make that time up now. And all for a pair of gloves.

Her father gave her the gloves on her fifteenth birthday, the day she got her driver's permit. Her mother had narrowed her eyes and asked, "Why does Arya need racing gloves, Ned? You know that's not allowed in this family anymore. Not after Bran."

But her father just shrugged his shoulders and said, "Their just gloves."

And they were just gloves. But they were also her lucky gloves. Her favorite gloves. She won her first race with those gloves, and ever since then, Arya has refused to compete without them.

"Come on," Arya says, snapping back to the present. She continues to shift gears as her speed increases, wind whipping through her windows. The hound, Jon, and Loras are all at least four car lengths ahead of her. There's an opening on the left side, but will she have enough speed to take it?

Faster and faster. The car accelerates, and for the second time, Arya wonders what Gendry did the last time he worked on it. Her car has never run this smooth, this fast, despite the wear and tear she's been causing it lately.

Jon pulls away from the pack, surging forward by half a car length and leaving the hound and Loras side by side. Instead of separating, the two cars converge, playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse. The hound merges closer and closer until his side view mirror grazes against the side of Loras' car. The sound of screeching metal breaks through the wind, and alarmed, Loras falters, dives to the side, and loses speed in the process.

"Perfect," Arya says, smiling to herself. She slams her foot on the gas and surges forward, passing Loras and quickly finding herself neck and neck with the hound. "Thanks for the opening," she calls out her window, but she doubts Sandor can hear her.

Outside zooms by in a blur of dust and stars. Arya only looks forward, eyes trained on Jon's car. "Mess up, come on, fuck it up," she says, praying Jon will make a mistake even though he never makes mistakes. It's not that she wants him to lose; it's just the she wants to win. She needs to win.

She's still neck and neck with the hound, but Loras is coming up from behind, and from a glance in her rearview mirror, Arya can tell that he's pissed off. The hound bullied him out of the race, and Loras isn't going to let him get away with it. All the better for me, Arya thinks, let those two idiots work it out, and I'll deal with Jon.

Just as she predicted, Sandor loses speed as Loras starts to trail behind him. Arya pushes forward into second place, but there's only a small stretch of road left. Will it give her enough time to overtake Jon? He's still half a car length ahead of her. She could play it dirty, blare her horn or flash her brights, but that's not her style. Winning isn't satisfying if you cheat yourself into first place.

"A little faster. You can do it," Arya's foot is pressed all the way down, pedal against the floor. The body of the car is shaking under the exertion, and Arya has to grip her wheel with white knuckles to keep it from turning to the side. Slowly, she catches up to Jon, inch by inch. It seems that her car runs just a little bit faster than his, but he had the head start, and he hasn't faltered once for the entire race.

As the finish line emerges, fresh white paint against the dark black road, Arya takes a sharp breath, leans forward, and shoots her car forward, straight as an arrow.

But it's not enough.

Jon beats her, only by a few inches, but he beats her. His car screeches to a halt, and she brakes hard and fast so she won't crash into him. Sandor finishes close behind with Loras in last, a scowl on his pretty face.

"Fuck!" Arya says, slamming her steering wheel with a closed fist. She accidently hits the horn, and the sound blares loudly in the open night. Her cheeks flame with embarrassment. Not only did she lose the race, but now she's also acting like a fucking immature idiot. Get it together, she tells herself.

She steps out of the car, being careful not to slam the door shut behind her. Jon walks up to her, his mouth quirked into a smug smile, his arms wrapped around his lean chest. He laughs when he sees Arya's enraged face.

"I told you not to get too cocky," he says.

Arya narrows her eyes. "It's wasn't my fault. I couldn't find my gloves."

"Unless gremlins hid them, it sounds like it was entirely your fault." Jon holds out a hand for Arya to shake, and she begrudgingly takes it. "Good race though. If you had started on time, you might have even won."

"I would have won. And I'll win next time. You just got lucky."

"We both know luck has nothing to do with it. And stop being so grumpy. You still got second place. Not bad for your second time out here."

"Third time," Arya corrects. "Kind of. If you count the race I crashed. At least I won that one."

"And you'll win another one. Eventually. Just maybe not while I'm around."

"You're an arrogant idiot."

Jon shrugs his shoulders, still smiling. "Call me what you want. You still lost. I'll see you around, Arya."

"Don't call me that!" Arya's pulse starts racing, she turns around, making sure no one is near them. Thankfully, the hound and Loras are back at the tent with an enraged Joffrey. "Joffrey can't know who I am. No one can know who I am. Don't forget it."

"Right. Sorry."

"Also," Arya says, stepping forward and lowering her voice. "There's something else I need to talk to you about."

"What is it?"

"It's about Sansa. And Joffrey. And the whole family actually."

Jon's smile disappears, and his face takes on a guarded expression. "I haven't talked to our family for a long time. Not for years except for you and Robb."

"I know, but this is important. Can I come over tomorrow sometime and fill you in?"

Jon pauses, hesitant, before answering, "Sure."

"Okay, great. I'll see you then." Arya starts to leave, but she turns around one more time. "Oh, and Jon?"

"What?"

"I will beat you next time. I can promise you that."

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

Arya squares her jaw. "I don't."

"I'm so screwed," Arya says as she paces the floor of Gendry's bedroom. "I needed that money. What the hell am I going to do now?"

"You can stay here."

"I know that." Arya stops pacing and turns to face Gendry. "I mean, thank you for your, uh, hospitality."

Gendry laughs. "Watching you trying to be polite is like watching a cat try to swim."

"Fine. In that case, I just won't try." She starts pacing again. "The point is, I need money. It's great that I can stay here, but I can't just shack up with you forever, and I still need food, clothes, gas, you know, the necessities of life. I just don't know what to do."

"You could get a job."

"A job?"

"Don't sound so stunned. A lot of people have jobs. I have a job."

"Jon doesn't have a job."

"That's because Jon wins his races."

Arya narrows her eyes. "You're stepping into dangerous territory, Gendry Waters. I'm already angry. Don't make it worse.

"You're not the hulk, Arya. Despite what you think, you aren't very intimidating."

"No?" Arya raises an eyebrow.

"No."

"We'll see about that." Arya rushes forward and jumps onto the bed, landing right on top of Gendry with her full body weight. He lets out a gasp, but Arya ignores him. She straddles his waist and grabs his arms, pining them behind him. "I'm stronger than I look," Arya says, smiling.

"No you're not."

"Admit it, and I'll let you go."

"You'll let me go?" Gendry starts laughing. His blue eyes are light and amused.

Arya, slightly confused by his laughter, continues, "Yes, I'll let you go." She tightens her grip on his wrists and presses down further against his body. This only makes Gendry laugh harder. "What's so funny?" She asks.

"The fact that you think you're stronger than me."

"I am-"

Before Arya can finish her sentence, Gendry yanks his arms away from her, puts his hands around her small waist, and flips her over so that she's pinned to the bed and he's hovering over her. He smiles arrogantly and uses a free hand to brush Arya's mussed hair out of her face. "It's sweet really. It's like you're a little puppy who thinks she can play with the big dogs."

"Please stop comparing me to animals," Arya mutters.

"I can't help it. You have very animal-like qualities."

"Yeah, well does an animal do this?" Arya lifts her leg and knees Gendry sharply in the stomach. He let's out a groan, but his grip on Arya's arms doesn't loosen.

"Nice try," he says smiling. "Besides, do you really want to escape?" He lowers his body so that it's just barely brushing against Arya's. His head dips down and lips graze across her neck. When he looks up and locks eyes with Arya, her pulse is already racing. "Don't you like it here?" He teases.

"You're an idiot," Arya says, but she can feel herself giving in. It's exhausting to fight with Gendry. At least he can't say anything stupid when they're kissing.

"Yes, I know. You've told me that before." His lips lower again. This time they trail against Arya's collarbone, warm breath against her chest. She squirms beneath him, already impatient for more. Her arms are still pinned against the bed.

"Enough, already," she says. "If you're going to kiss me, just kiss me."

Gendry pauses. He looks up, blue eyes dark and clear. A smile curls at the ends of his mouth. His full lips part, and he says, "All right."

And then he swoops back down and kisses her. His mouth is hot and insistent, and Arya wishes she could use her arms to drag him closer. Instead she leans up and catches his lips in hers, gasping when his tongue slips into her mouth, gasping when his teeth just lightly bite the bottom of her lip.

All the tension from the day, all the stress from the race, it all disappears as their mouths collide again and again. All she can think about is Gendry, how his warm, hard body is pressing her into the bed. How his lips are trailing against her skin, leaving every part of her bothered and flushed. How is arousal is pushing up against the side of her leg as they push their bodies closer and closer together.

"Please," she says, gasping as Gendry suddenly bites the bottom of her earlobe. "Let me use my hands."

Gendry leans down, smiling against her mouth. "Well since you said please."

As soon as Gendry releases her arms, she wraps them around his back, desperately trying to pull him closer. She loves the feeling of his body against her own. She loves it even more without clothing. "Take your shirt off," she commands, hands already tugging at her own top.

"You didn't say please."

Arya finishes with her own shirt, and she can feel the heat of Gendry's gaze sweep over her torso, eyes lingering on the bra that she's already unsnapping. "I said, take your shirt off," Arya repeats.

Gendry licks his lips. Arousal flushes through Arya, hot and strong. She drops her bra as Gendry finally takes his shirt off, and as soon as its discarded on the floor, Arya reaches forward and presses her mouth against his hard chest. They're both kneeling on the bed, so Arya pushes Gendry backwards and slides on top of him, slowly trailing openmouthed kisses against his bare skin.

Gendry groans beneath her, bucking his hips against her own, his desire hard against her body. "Jesus," he moans as Arya licks his nipple. She moves further down, hands following her mouth, massaging and touching every inch of his skin. She can't believe how brazen she's being. Sure, she's been with guys before. But she's never been this forward. Something about Gendry makes her throw all caution to the wind.

As she makes her way to his athletic shorts, a wave of embarrassment finally courses through her. There's Gendry. All of Gendry. The shorts don't hide much. But Arya pushes away the small amount of discomfort and starts to tug down the elastic waist.

"Wait," Gendry says. His hands, already tangled in Arya's hair, reach down and grab her shoulders.

"What?" She asks.

"Just wait a second, come here." He tugs her arms gently and pulls her up to face him. As soon as she looks at him, she flushes. His eyes are filled with desire.

"What?" She asks again.

"Should we maybe slow down? I don't want to rush you into anything."

"Do you want to slow down?"

"No, but-"

"Good," Arya responds, already sliding back down his body.

Gendry stops her. "Wait."

"You're really killing the mood for me, Gendry."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just that you're so...young."

Arya's stomach drops. She thought they were past this. She thought Gendry finally saw her as someone older, more mature. "I'm not that young."

"You're six years younger than me, Arya. I just don't want to pressure you into something you're not ready for."

"You're not pressuring me, you idiot. If you recall just moments earlier, I was trying to take of your pants."

"I just-" Gendry sighs and runs a hand through his messy hair. "I just think we should take things slow for now. I don't want you to do anything that you'll regret."

"The only thing I'm regretting right now is the fact that you managed to engage me in this fucking ridiculous conversation."

"I'm sorry. I just-"

"Don't want to take advantage of me. I get it. That's very fucking noble of you, but in the future, please remember that I make my own decisions, and if I want to stop or if I feel uncomfortable, you'll know it, all right? I'm not some delicate little flower. I'm not some kid. I'm a racer, and I'm eighteen, and I like you, so I don't need you to protect me. Okay?"

Gendry looks at her, blue eyes narrowed, as if trying to see through her. Finally, he relents. "Okay. You're right."

"Thank you." Arya looks down, suddenly very aware that she's completely topless. Gendry notices too, and he smirks when her cheeks turn red. "Well," Arya says. "Now that we've lost the mood entirely, I'd really appreciate it if you could just hand me my bra."

Gendry smirks again, but he hands over her bra and shirt. "No redeeming the mood?" He asks.

"Don't think so. Not now." The stress from the race is already seeping back into her mind. Plus her family. And her lack of money.

"It'll all work out," Gendry says. "You'll get a job, make some money, win some races, quit the job, and everything will be fine."

"I know. I just can't believe I lost the race." Arya gets out of bed and Gendry follows her as she makes her way into the kitchen. Her stomach is growling, even though it's almost three in the morning.

"I meant to ask, what was up with the late start? I've never seen you do that."

"I was just being stupid." Arya turns around and faces Gendry. He's lounging against the kitchen counter. "I couldn't find my racing gloves, and by the time-"

Gendry's face pales. He quickly looks away, but Arya catches something guilty in his expression.

"Gendry," Arya starts. "Do you know why my gloves weren't in their compartment?"

"I, well...uh," Gendry massages the back of his neck and looks at the floor. "You see, when I was working on your car, I took them out and-"

Arya strides forward and punches Gendry hard in the stomach. "Fuck!" He cries, bending over, gasping, hands clutched to his stomach. "Fuck that really hurt!"

"I told you I was strong," Arya counters. She smiles smugly. "Just be glad I can't reach your nose."

A/N – Kind of an abrupt ending- but there wasn't much room for the next section I was planning. Hope you don't mind. School starts tomorrow for me, so I'm not sure how fast updates will be coming. I'll try my best to keep up.

As always, thank you for all of the wonderful reviews last chapter! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. I hope you guys liked it.

Thank you for reading and reviewing!