“That’s your boy!” Cleo nudged me.
“He’s not…”
She chuckled.
With fifteen laps to go, he closed in on Stefano.
“Is he going to try something stupid?” Imani asked, her voice low.
“He promised he wouldn’t,” I whispered.
Stefano defended aggressively, but Griffin was patient. He waited, probing for a weakness. Then, on the main straight, he pulled alongside. For a heart-stopping second, they were wheel-to-wheel, a hair’s breadth from disaster. Griffin held his line, executed a perfect pass, and claimed the lead.
The room exploded. I was on my feet, screaming inside. The move jostled Hazel awake but mercifully she didn’t scream the place down.
Cleo nudged me. “You can breathe now, you know.”
“Not until the checkered flag.”
Imani raised her glass. “To surviving ninety minutes of terror. For you, anyway.”
The final laps rushed by in silence, Hazel heavy on my chest, every muscle drawn tight. When Griffin crossed the line first, the stands exploded. Champagne everywhere, strangers hugging, Hazel blinking at the commotion.
Relief hit me so hard my knees felt weak. He was safe. He’d won.
“He did it!” Cleo hugged me from the side. “And you didn’t faint. I’m impressed.”
I laughed, letting the sound dissolve some of the tension. “Don’t tempt fate. There’s still the podium. And the interviews.And the endless sponsor photos.” I pressed Hazel’s hand to my lips, relief and something sharper fizzing through me. “He’s safe. That’s all that matters.”
Cleo squeezed my arm, eyes bright with mischief. “So, when do we get to meet the man himself?”
I smiled, but kept my eyes on the screen. “Let’s give him a minute. He’s got a victory to enjoy.”
“This is insanity,” Imani shouted over the noise, dodging a cameraman.
“Welcome to racing.”
Cleo nudged me, eyes shining. “You know you’re on every video screen right now, right?”
“I’ll survive.” I kept my gaze on the podium, on Griffin.
It was ridiculous, but I felt exposed wearing his name and number, like I’d wandered into a spotlight without meaning to.
The crowd roared as the drivers stepped onto the podiums. Stefano looked thunderous in second place. Then Griffin took his spot on the top, holding his trophy high, and the crowd’s roar just about deafened me.
As he scanned the celebrating crowd, his gaze snagged on mine. His attention dropped to my shirt and happy surprise flashed across his face. I shifted Hazel, covering my chest and his number. His lips curled, and I remembered we’d dressed Hazel for him too.
His gaze returned to mine and he swallowed, something raw and electric in his stare.
For a breath, the rest of the circuit faded.
It was just him, staring at me like I’d handed him the checkered flag myself.
Then the media mask slammed down. The easy smile, the practiced fist pump for the crowd.
“Holy shit,” Cleo whispered beside me. “He just had a full-on ‘my family is here’ moment.”
“He looked like he’d been run over by his own car,” Imani said, not bothering to hide her grin.
