Tessa crosses her arms. “You have two minutes to get out there and onto your spot for the national anthem or you get fined,” she scoffs. “Which meansVanstonegets fined.”
My eyebrows draw together in annoyance. “You’re my engineer, not my handler.”
I stand from the couch and shake myself into the rest of my race suit. I zip it up and brush past her, bumping into her shoulder for good measure.
Her sharp gasp cuts through the tiny room.
“I’m not your handler?” she questions from behind, her tone full of sarcasm. “If I didn’t have Gia intervene when you were talking to Vinny, what would’ve happened?”
I head toward the other racers with Tessa hot on my heels.
“You seem awfully protective of him,” I say.
“And you seem awfully jealous.”
My steps falter.
Me? Jealous?
I don’t get jealous, and especially not where it concerns her.
I’m too close to my opponents to say anything else, so I keep my mouth shut. I walk over and stand beside her brother, who doesn’t even look in my direction.
He’s clearly focused. Unlike me.
I don’t note a single verse of the national anthem or notice the cameras zooming in on my face. My heartbeat drums inside my ears instead, even as I pull my helmet on and get seated in my car.
It isn’t until her voice filters through, wrapping around my head like a relentless weed, that I can hear again.
“Radio check. Can you hear me?” she asks.
I clench my jaw. “Unfortunately.”
She scoffs, and I chuckle inside my head.
I wiggle my fingers.
In and out.
In and out.
In and out.
I keep them outstretched when I realize my stretches are mimicking her breathing through my helmet.
“Stop breathing so hard.”
She growls. “You are unbelievable.”
My lip twitches. “I’ve heard that many times, especially in the bedroom.”
Her loud, exasperated sigh derails my nerves. But only for a second.
“Take off the way we did in practice,” she reminds me.
I remain silent.
5…4…3…2…1.
