“Whoa,” I choked out as I took in the full scene, “this is incredible. It looks like a professional speedway.” I popped upon my toes for a better look. “You even have a drag strip and figure eight track. You’ve got it all.”
Finley chuckled at my enthusiasm, and could we just sayChristmas miracleat hearing Slade and Finley laughing today.
“Hunter designed and built this a few years ago,” he said. “He got sick of us racing in the streets, and having to deal with pissed off enforcers and council alphas. It’s been a weekend haunt ever since. Weather dependent.”
The weather was mild again today, with perfect blue skies and chilly winds but no snow. “Conditions look good for racing,” I commented, having no idea if that was true. I’d never done this in any sort of professional capacity. “I mean, once we get some heat into the tires.”
The four Porsche GT3 R’s in the lineup were from the garage, and already knew they were running semi-slicks. Unless we wanted to die, we’d need to warm them up first.
Finley’s wide-eyed and proud expression had me wanting to prance around with my damn fur puffed up. Apparently, all of his grouchy ways were forgotten with a few kind words and some dimples. I really needed to work out my fucking priorities here.
“Absolutely,” he said, unaware I was mentally beating myself up. “This is one of my favorite weathers to race in. The NA engines love the cool air.”
“Naturally aspirated love it as much as the turbos?”
That got me another slow, smirking grin, and my stomach intensely flip-flopped. “Turbos like it the most, but all engines perform better in cooler air.”
“Very true,” I said with a nod, sparks lighting up my veins. The car talk was turning me on, and more than that, it was Finley. The bear kept adding dirt to the chasm, and it didn’t feel quite as vast as before.
Finley held my gaze for a few long seconds, but before he could say anything more, Kellan noticed our presence andstarted bouncing and waving as he shouted for us toget our asses over there.
As we headed for them, I found myself saying, “We need to do this more often. Just hanging out and chatting.”
When he brushed his hand over the top of mine, a jolt ran through my body, and I choked back a gasp.
“I’d love that,” he said softly, and it was clear he meant it. “I know I have a lot to atone and apologize for, Em, and to kick it off I was wondering if you might consider sitting in on a therapy session next week. I’ll be delving into my past, and I’d like you there to learn a little more about me.”
I blinked at him. “You’ve been in therapy?”
That was the first time I’d heard of it, and the knowledge brought forth another surge of hope. Therapy was the last thing I’d expected from the proud, stubborn shifter, but it was a tangible sign he was not just talking the talk. He was walking the walk. A sign that I could start to trust in the future he promised.
He nodded, and didn’t try to downplay it at all. “Yeah, and it’s been really helping. I think. Dealing with my past is not a linear journey, but I feel mentally stronger. I feel like I’m starting to accept and move through my traumas and learn healthy coping mechanisms. Rather than going straight for anger and violence. Rather than pushing those I care about away because I’m scared of being hurt. Honestly, I wish I’d started therapy years ago.”
With my heart in my throat, I barely stopped myself from grasping his hand. Fuck, I was so proud of him. “If you want me to sit in on a session, just let me know the time and place. I’ll be there. No doubt I need therapy too, and can I just say how proud I am of you.”
I almost died as I caught sight of the splash of pink tinged high on his cheeks. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. I’d rendered him speechless, and it hurt to think that itmight be because he’d never had anyone say those words to him before.
When we joined our pack, it cut off further deep and meaningful conversations, and I sucked in a shuddery breath as Kellan threw his arms around us both. “Race time!” he crowed, and I forced myself to focus on that.
Today we could pretend everything was perfect and that this was a normal birthday slash Christmas celebration.
Reality could wait for tomorrow.
CHAPTER 29
EMME
We lined up at the start of the track with Hunter, Kellan, Finley and me behind the wheel of the Porsches, our cars white and shiny against the darker tarmac. Slade was in his green SVJ and Warrick in a bright red McLaren Senna—I’d never seen one of those in real life before and I was giddy at getting to observe it on track. Cora rode shotgun with him, and she smiled and waved when she caught my eye from two cars away.
All of us were pumped. I could only liken the adrenaline coursing through me to how it felt when my alphas touched me. Like my soul was about to leave my damn body.
Kellan’s laughter rang out as he revved his engine, and I barely resisted laughing with him. We’d already done two warmup laps to get heat into the tires, and now we all sat and watched the light. It was red, and I swear the anticipation of it turning green was next freaking level.
Hunter had shown me how to activate launch control, and while I’d never raced a car like this before, I’d been impressed at the way it handled in the warmup laps.
I turned to find Hunter, on my right, smirking and looking sexy as fuck in a car that rightfully shouldn’t fit his huge frame.On my left was Kellan, and I chuckled as he bounced in his chair and shouted out thatFinley was going down. The bear was on his other side, and I couldn’t see his reaction, but I’d bet he was rolling his eyes.
When Kellan focused on me, he briefly calmed and smiled in his golden boy way. “Love you, Shortcake!”
