Lucas pauses, like he always does when Sam brings up next season. “No.”
“Then maybe he will.”
Thomas says he doesn’t want to change teams, but Sam can be very persuasive. Not that it’ll take much convincing—it’s no secret what a powerhouse Red Boar has become and how comedically terrible Ferraro's strategy is.
Plus, Sam saw an edited photo of Thomas in a Red Boar suit, and he looksgoodin navy.
Lucas stifles a laugh. “Do not count on it.”
“Oh yeah? Who else are we considering?” Sam scoffs as theyturn a corner. “One of the VFIBR kids? I’m not going to teach some child to drive a big boy car.”
“One of them is doing well this year.” That sounds dangerously close to Lucas considering it. “He is twenty-two, I think.”
That’s basically twelve. “An infant. A small, incompetent, little baby.”
“Only six years younger than you.”
A jolt of electricity strikes his heart.Only seven years. Sam never expected their age difference to be thrown in his face like this. “It’s not the same thing.”
“It could be.”
No, it can’t. It’s completely different.
They stroll down the hallway, quieting as they pass through the garage. The drivers smile, nod, and wave at various team members, but Sam is still fuming.
“You need to be careful with him,” Lucas says when they’re alone again. “Don’t get too close to your enemy.”
“You sound like Adam.”
“He is not wrong. Relationships across teams never work—you need to let him go.”
What does Lucas even know? He knows nothing about Thomas—orSam, for that matter. Sam doesn’t need to be lectured by some guy who thinks he likes kangaroos. Hehateskangaroos.
“It’s not arelationship.”
Lucas grunts with frustration. “Whatever you are doing that involves your penis—it needs to stop!”
Sam’s pissed off enough to stride a little faster and ignore his teammate. He’s not in arelationship, he’s just blowing off steam. They’re both consenting adults. They’re allowed to do whatever they want with their penises.
He can stop at any time, he justdoesn’t want to.
Sam wins the Austrian Grand Prix by ten seconds. The clock doesn’t show how hard he had to push or how difficult it was to fight through the grid after his slow pit stop.
He scrambles up to the top of the car for his victory pose as Lucas and Finn pull up to either side of him. Jakob is the last car to park, taking the final Home Race spot.
Not a red car in sight.
“No Ferraros!” Lucas says, catching Sam when he hops down off his car. They embrace before turning and congratulating the Mercenary driver.
The team is extra animated when Sam throws himself against them. It’s the first time all year that their biggest rivals aren’t sharing the stage.
“That’s how you do it!” Adam yells, sending Sam flying with a thunderous clap to his back.
Sam had nothing to do with Finn making podium, but after the Thomas-in-the-garage fiasco, he’s willing to take credit for anything that makes Adam happy.
The Red Boar boys concentrate all of their champagne spraying efforts on Finn, but Sam is still soaked to the bone by the time he’s back in his driver’s room and thumbing through his texts.
Owain
