The celebration had stretched late into the evening, the team still buzzing from the race and the unexpected result that had everyone talking at once. Not to mention, Ezra had finished in P6, pulling in additional points for Laurens. Glasses clinked, stories grew more exciting with every retelling, and Reese found herself pulled into a steady stream of congratulatory hugs she still wasn’t sure how to gracefully accept.
“I think we’re going to do a lot of damage together,” Ezra said, touching his pint glass to hers.
Reese grinned. “I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to racing with you.”
Across the room, Sloane stood in easy conversation with Marissa and Delaney, one shoulder resting against the bar while Marissa animatedly told a story, her hands moving as much as her words. Sloane laughed, bright and relaxed, and Reese felt the familiar pull in her chest that always seemed to lead her back to that exact spot.
She drifted over, still riding the energy from the race.
“There she is,” Marissa said, smiling as Reese approached. “We were just saying that drive deserved its own highlight reel. I should be heavily featured, screaming like a maniac muppet.”
Reese laughed. “I can make that happen. Did you guys see that start though? I got boxed in for a second and thought, well, that’s it, race over.”
“Oh, we saw it,” Delaney said. “Then you just kept going like some kind of contracted killer.”
“Dark,” Reese said, “but I like it.”
Sloane laughed along, their eyes meeting and holding for a moment longer than called for. Eventually, Reese finished her drink and offered a few last grateful smiles to the people nearby. When Sloane’s hand found hers in the easy chaos around the bar, the decision felt natural rather than deliberate. “Let me grab Luke real quick.”
She found her brother in the corner, engaged in a round of darts with some of the crew members. “I think we’re going to sneak out, but I wanted to tell you how awesome today was. Seeing your face.” She gave his chest a thump, just so he wouldn’t think she was too soft.
“I think we have a lot of great races ahead of us, Roo.”
“Oh, I think I need to hear about Roo,” Sloane said, her eyes dancing.
“So many stories for you,” Luke said, and took her hand in both of his. “And it was an honor meeting you earlier. I hope I wasn’t too enthusiastic.”
“Not at all.”
Luke looked to Reese and back. “It sounds like we have more good times ahead.”
“Yeah, we definitely do,” Sloane said.
They slipped away with quiet goodnights and soft laughter, stepping out into the cool night together, both of them perfectly content to trade the noise of the celebration for the quiet promise of time alone.
Now nestled in the quiet of the hotel room, Reese took a seat on the edge of the bed. Her body was still wired, muscles thrumming from the g-forces that left her arms heavy, but the ache felt distant now. Sloane was here. That was the only thing registering.
Sloane didn’t rush. She kicked off the heels she’d changed into for the gathering, crossed to the minibar, and pulled out two bottles of water. When she turned back, her eyes were soft, steady, tracing Reese like she was memorizing her all over again.
Reese managed a tired grin. “You’re really here.”
“I’m really here,” Sloane said, handing her one of the waters before sitting on the bed beside her. Their knees brushed. “You were unreal today. I’ve watched a lot of races, but watching you claw through that field … I forgot how good it feels to see you do that.”
“It felt different with you here again. Everything was a blur these last few races, like a part of me was missing. And it was.”
Sloane reached out, threading her fingers through Reese’s, her thumb brushing over her knuckles. “I was thinking of you the whole time. Missing you. Every single day. I just … needed to get my head right first.” She paused, exhaling slowly. “I did the work. Or at least the start of it. Therapy, breathing exercises,planning for when it hits, all of it. But today? Sitting in those stands, watching you fight for every tenth … it wasn’t terrifying. I was in it. I was proud. Not just of you, but of me, because I could finally be there for you without my past choking me. It felt like a step. A real one.”
Reese’s throat tightened. She lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to Sloane’s knuckles. “I’m so fucking glad you’re here.”
Sloane’s free hand cupped Reese’s jaw, her thumb tracing the line of her cheekbone. “Me too.” She leaned in and kissed her—slow at first, almost careful—then deeper, hungrier, like the month apart had finally snapped its restraint. Reese groaned into the kiss, the sound vibrating low in her throat as her fingers tightened on Sloane’s hips, yanking her flush until their bodies locked together with a soft, urgent thud. The weeks of absence crashed through them: every phantom brush of fingertips she’d imagined in empty hotel rooms, every clipped goodnight that had left her staring at the ceiling, every cold sheet that had mocked her loneliness. Now it all ignited—hot, immediate, electric.
They stumbled toward the bed without breaking the kiss, mouths sliding wet and greedy. Reese’s team jacket slithered to the carpet with a hushed rustle. Sloane’s shirt came next—each button popping free with a tiny, satisfying click until the fabric parted and warm skin met warm skin. The air carried the faint, intoxicating mix of Sloane’s perfume—something sharply citrus and clean—layered with the lingering warmth of sunbaked grandstands.
Reese’s mouth chased the pulse in Sloane’s throat, lips parting to taste the faint salt of the day still clinging to her skin, the rapid flutter beneath like a trapped bird. When her teeth grazed the tender spot just below Sloane’s ear, Sloane’s breath hitched sharply—a quick, ragged inhale that sent a freshjolt straight to Reese’s core. Sloane’s fingers dug into Reese’s shoulders, nails pressing crescent moons through the thin tank top, urging her closer, harder.
“God, I missed your mouth,” Sloane murmured, voice rough like gravel, lips brushing Reese’s as she spoke.
Reese pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, darkened with desire. “I missed everything about you.”
