Steve takes his headset and places it over Daniel’s ears. He starts to get into all the technical aspects of his equipment. Daniel seems really into it. Maybe he’ll become a crew chief someday. Daniel’s mom taps me on the shoulder while Daniel is fully engrossed in what Steve is explaining.
“Thank you so much for doing all of this. He has been so excited about it since you and Regan visited the hospital.”
“It’s no problem at all, Mrs.—” She stops me.
“Tara, please.”
“It’s no problem, Tara. I’m glad he can have this experience. I have it set up so you have a personal suite for the race.”
Tara leans in and gives me a peck on the cheek. I’m surprised, but I grin at her. It’s a motherly thank you peck on the cheek. It feels nice to have a bit of that motherly energy swarming around me. I get it from Ms. Rosa a lot of the time, but it’s nice to have it come from someone like Tara. It makes my heart ache missing my own mom, wishing that she would be here supporting me like she and my dad used to.
We exchange more thank yous as I leave them so I can suit up for the race.
I’m walking back to my hauler to get ready for our pre-race meeting, and see Brady coming out of her own. She gives me a nod that I reciprocate, and then she’s heading toward me with a hint of a smile on her face.
There’s that dimple again.
“Was that Daniel from the hospital that I saw you giving a tour?”
I nod. “Yeah, I set them up in a personal suite for the race today.”
Her smile grows and that dimple deepens.
“That’s so nice of you. Good luck today.” She walks off toward her pit stall. I rake my fingers through my hair, still wishing I’d gotten it cut, and exhale a breath. My heartrate has skyrocketed, and I’m willing it to come down.
Fuck, I’m in big trouble.
FOURTEEN
REGAN
Everything that can gowrong has gone wrong for this race. It seems that all the work that my team and I put into this setup has been for naught.
I’m starting twenty-fifth for this race. Sure, it’s the longest race of the season, and there are ways to make up that ground, but it’s not the start I wanted for my hometown race.
It really sucks that Dad can’t be up on the pit box today. Again—consequences of my own actions. This is just qualifying and practice. I’m hoping we can get our shit together for the actual race. Dad's replacement, Danny Shoulderman, and I just keep butting heads on almost everything. He’s about the same age as Dad, but he thinks that just because he’s older, he’s right about everything. It’s really frustrating. Without trust between a crew chief and driver, it can make things even harder during a race.
It doesn’t help that after Dixon came by the shop the other day, I haven’t been able to get him out of my head. I thought the one time after seeing him at The Meadows Diner was going to be enough…but I was wrong. Seeing him outside the racetrack has me seeing him in a different light.
One where in another world, we could maybe be friends. Or something more. But we are not in that world. We’re in this one. And I may or may not have scoped out his perfect ass as he left to go back to his truck after I rolled back under the car. I also may have had another long bath that night, thinking about said ass.
I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. We have seen each other every weekend throughout the racing season for two years, and all I’ve ever felt is dislike for the guy. Now, he’s part of my fucking fantasies, distracting me from my goals.
I’m walking down the grid to get to my car when I notice Dixon with Daniel and his family from the hospital. It’s really sweet of him to do that for that little boy. Dean gives Daniel a fist bump and leaves them to continue walking around the pits. A woman stops him, and he gives her a kiss on the cheek. Another grid girl?
A wave of something that I don’t recognize washes over me. It settles in my chest and sits there, heavy. I don’t like seeing that. Wait, is this jealousy? No. I can’t be jealous. I have nothing to be jealous about.
Dean notices me and I wish him good luck anyway, though this feeling still dancing in my stomach. I do my best to shake it all off so I can concentrate on the race at hand.
Opening ceremonies are complete, and I’m climbing into my car and getting strapped in. Although Dad isn’t up on the pit box as my crew chief, he’s still here and comes to my car window to give a bit of a pep talk before we start.
“You got this. Stay calm and push your way through the field. Talk to Shoulderman like you would if he were me,” he says, tightening my belts again over my shoulders.
“Let’s do this.” I give him a fist bump through the window, and he puts the window net up, locking it into place before climbing back over the pit wall.
The green flag waves and the race begins. Shouldermanand I were able to agree on some changes during practice finally, and so far have helped, but we still have a long way to go to make this car at least top fifteen worthy.
The race has fallen into a steady rhythm, and green flag pit stops are starting. We have to be sure that we get this right—one mistake can cost us any ground that we’ve already gained.
