Reese stood. “That was one moment,” she said gently. “It happens. It didn’t even make the stewards’ notes.”
“I know.” Sloane nodded, eyes bright. “I know all of that. The logic is right in front of me, but I can’t grab hold. I know the statistics, the margins, and the safety improvements. How manythings have improved since I was driving.” Her voice softened and broke just a little. “I didn’t know what it would feel like to watch it happen to someone I love.”
That landed.
Reese took a step back this time, hand dragging through her hair. “So, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I don’t know if I can live like this,” Sloane said. She forced herself to meet Reese’s gaze. “Loving you and waiting for the worst thing not to happen. I’m just being honest.”
Reese’s jaw tightened. “Are you asking me to stop?”
“No,” Sloane said immediately. “God, no. I would never ask that. This is who you are.” Her hands dropped uselessly to her sides. “That’s what scares me.”
Reese paced once, then turned back. “You knew racing was my life.”
“I knew it intellectually,” Sloane said quietly. “I didn’t know it viscerally. I didn’t know how much I’d have to lose.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Reese’s voice dropped. “I can’t promise you safety.”
“I know.”
“I can’t promise this gets easier.”
“I know.”
They stood there, neither reaching for the other. The want was there, familiar, aching, but so was the fault line running straight through the middle of it.
Outside, laughter drifted up from the street below. A car passed. Life went on, unaware.
“I don’t want to lose you,” Reese said finally. “I can’t.”
Sloane swallowed hard. “Neither do I.”
But nothing was decided. Nothing was solved.
Neither of them moved at first. The space between them felt fragile, like one wrong motion might shatter what they were still trying to protect.
Finally, Reese reached out to hook her fingers into the hem of Sloane’s shirt. A quiet question. A plea without words.
Sloane went willingly.
They didn’t talk anymore after that. There was nothing left that wouldn’t hurt to say. Reese climbed under the covers first, and Sloane followed, fitting herself against Reese’s back like muscle memory knew exactly where to land. Reese reached behind her, lacing their fingers together, pulling Sloane close until there was no daylight between them.
Sloane pressed her face into Reese’s shoulder, breathing her in. Warmth. Familiarity. The even rise and fall that told her that right now, at least, everything was okay.
They lay there wrapped around each other, holding on to what they knew to be true. That they loved each other. That this was real. And whatever waited for them down the road hadn’t arrived yet.
Tomorrow would come with its questions and its choices and its impossible asks. But for tonight, they stayed exactly where they were, anchored in the quiet certainty of each other, neither ready to let go.
Not yet.
Morning came too soon. Sloane woke with the sense that something had already gone wrong, even before she remembered what it was. Reese lay warm and solid beside her, breathing evenly, an arm slung across Sloane’s waist like always. For a few fragile seconds, Sloane let herself believe they were still suspended in last night, untouched by consequence.
They were both flying out that day, but had purposefully booked flights for the early evening so they could enjoy as muchtime together as possible. Sloane was off to meet with a client in Munich, and Reese was heading to Florida with The Starting Grid to visit Cassidy and unwind with her friends.
“Hey, Hotshot,” Sloane said as Reese’s eyes fluttered open. When she saw Sloane, she relaxed into a smile.
“That’s me. Hi.”
