“Hell, yeah.” Kelsie leans over to aggressively tousle my hair. “Time to party.”
“Oh,” I say, while Travis says, “Well?—”
“No, hush, both of you,” Kelsie says. “We’re celebrating. There’s a fancy party one of Harper’s sponsors is throwing at the hotel. I heard Quin McCarthy might be there!”
Travis smirks at the name. I elbow him hard. “We can’t leave Ghost, though,” I say, beckoning him toward me. “You two go to the party, Travis and I will take him home.”
“Nice try, but no,” Kelsie says. “I know you two are secretly eighty-five-year-olds who’ve been married sixty years, but this is a huge deal, Jacob. We need to celebrate it. And may I remind you that I flew thirteen hours to be here with you?”
“But Ghost?—”
“I’ll take him to Matty,” Heather says. “I think he could use an emotional support dog right about now.” She nudges Travis with her hip. “Kelsie’s right. We need to celebrate.”
Travis looks from Heather’s face to Kelsie’s and then gives me a crooked smile. “I don’t think we’re getting out of this.”
“You’re not,” Kelsie and Heather say in unison.
Ghost barks once, like he agrees with them, and I crack a smile. “Yeah, alright.”
Heather and Kelsie are right, like they usually are. The party, which takes place in a club on the top floor of our hotel, is really fun. A lot of Travis’s friends from the Harper crew are there, and Marcie and Samuel from Crosswire, too. We all crowd into a booth and Heather orders a tray of old-fashioneds for the table and a pitcher of ice water for Travis and me. Under the noise of the loud, thumping music, Marcie tells me that Clayton is definitely retiring next year—apparently she got the inside scoop from his wife—and Samuel promises to eavesdrop freely anytime Sofia and Cory talk about his replacement.
“It’ll be you,” Travis says, leaning close to speak low in my ear.
A shiver of nerves courses through me. “Will I still make your life perfect when I beat you in the championship next year?”
His lips curve. “Yep.”
I glance at the party around us, the mass of dancing bodies, the Harper and Crosswire crew. “Will I still make your life perfect if I kiss you right now in front of everyone?”
His smile widens; his knee nudges mine under the table. “Yep,” he says again.
I don’t kiss him, but only because Kelsie chooses that moment to try to drag us both onto the dance floor. I’ve said it, though. I’ve put it out there. Whether it’s a day from now, or a month, or a year, I know the moment is coming. And I’m not scared of it, not even at all.
Ben and Anne and Trevor and Jonathan arrive, and they spend some time chatting with us before joining the others on the dance floor. The club is getting more and more crowded, and even Quin McCarthy makes his promised appearance. We see him talking with Trevor and Jonathan at the bar for a while before Trevor drags them both out dancing.
For a while, we watch them all, then Travis leans close and says, “You want to get out of here?”
There’s nothing in the world I want more.
I follow him out of the club, but instead of taking the elevator downstairs, he leads me up a stairwell to the roof. The heavy door is propped open with a janitor’s bucket, and we slip through and step out into the warm night. The skies are clear but the stars are faint, like they are back in London. When we were in Canada, we stayed in a cabin a few hours outside of Whitehorse, and the stars were so close and bright it felt like you could reach out and grab them. We lay outside for hours, staring up at them with our fingers tangled together inside our shared sleeping bag.
“Pretty,” Travis says, as we step past a whirring air-conditioning unit to lean against the railing. The city stretches out before us, the track still lit up from the race. I’m sure there are hundreds of parties going on in the city right now, but up here, the world is still and quiet.
“So,” Travis says. “How does it feel?”
“Good,” I say, smiling. “Strange.” I shift sideways so my arm is touching his. “It was fun racing against you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I don’t think I could’ve beaten you if you didn’t have that slow stop.”
“I know you couldn’t have.” He laughs as I elbow him. “I’m kidding. You belong on the grid next year. You’re a great racer.”
“You’re better,” I say. “At least for now.”
He trails his fingers up my arm and then frowns. “Do you seriously have goosebumps right now?”
“It’s cold!”
