Life had settled into something warm and bright and very much what they made it.
And in a few weeks, the new Formula 1 season would start again. Reese would be back in the Laurens car, chasing the other drivers around the world, and seeing if she could advance Laurens’s spot in the Constructors’ Championship. Sloane was headed back to the academy for another season, which meant they’d be together in almost every city on the schedule. She couldn’t wait to explore each one with her hand in Sloane’s.
Behind Reese, the rest of the crew had taken over the garage like it belonged to them.
Marissa and Cassidy were arguing about who’d had the cleanest lap of the afternoon. Delaney was sprawled across a stack of tires, insisting she could definitely beat Marissa if she got “just one more go.”
And a few yards away, Samara had a camera perched on her shoulder, documenting the chaos with obvious satisfaction. Her film was almost complete and off to editing, but she wanted to grab a few extra shots of Reese gearing up for the season ahead.Some unofficial car time with her friends should fill out the story nicely.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Samara said when Reese noticed the cameras on her … again. “You’re the one who made the story so compelling. I’m just seeing it through.”
Reese laughed.
Veronica clapped her hands once, drawing everyone’s attention.
“All right,” she said brightly. “Everyone’s had some time to play behind the wheel. Should we head to dinner, maybe?” Even Veronica had slid behind the wheel of the retired F1 car. She’d borrowed it from a friend who’d picked it up at auction. The car could move. Reese was impressed.
Delaney pointed toward the far end of the garage. “Not everyone.”
All eyes shifted to Sloane, who stood near the car, looking relaxed and happy.
“Oh no,” Sloane said immediately. “Today is for you all. I’m literally the cheerleader.”
Marissa folded her arms. “Sloane. Can you honestly walk away from this without driving a lap or two? No crowd. No media. Just friends hanging out.”
Cassidy nodded calmly. “No pressure. You can set your own pace.”
“It would be disrespectful to motorsport not to have a little fun,” Delaney said.
“Oh, I had no idea,” Sloane said with a laugh. “I would hate to offend motorsport, but … I’m not sure I want to go there.”
Veronica grinned like a proud mastermind. “Well, the car’s privately owned and fully insured.” Sloane raised an eyebrow. Then she looked over at Reese.
Reese shrugged, a slow smile spreading across her face.
“Totally your decision.”
Sloane studied their faces, clearly teetering, almost like the temptation was too much. “Well, why not?”
“We’re doing this,” Delaney said, clapping her hands.
A few minutes later, Sloane was lowering herself into the cockpit of the old single-seater, sliding into the seat like her body remembered every inch of the motion. The engine fired with a sharp mechanical growl that echoed across the open desert.
Everyone drifted toward the pit wall.
Even Samara lowered her camera slightly, suddenly very interested, before raising it again, realizing what she might be about to capture.
The car rolled out onto the track.
The first lap seemed cautious. Sloane was feeling the brakes, testing them out. Then, the steering. The grip.
“She’s rusty,” Delaney predicted.
“Well, yeah. Give her a minute,” Veronica said, hands on her hips, dark hair blowing in the breeze, as she stared out at the track.
Second lap. Faster. Cleaner.
Reese felt something tighten pleasantly in her chest. Things were looking good out there. The way Sloane placed the car through the corners had her breath catching—smooth, controlled, and effortless.
