“He’s your Julie.”
Sloane nodded. “And just as good at his job.” A pause. “We got the news about Tyler while at the restaurant.”
“Right. I wondered.” She watched the smile fade from Reese’s lips. “And how did that affect you? I imagine it was jarring. I’m glad Denny was there.”
Sloane went still.
She’d expected Reese to leap immediately into a discussion about the available seat and her chances of snagging the reserve spot. And why wouldn’t she? It was the obvious pivot, the big talking point, the undisputed headline everyone in the paddock would be dissecting by morning. Instead, Reese had thought first ofher—of Sloane and her headspace. The realization landed hard enough that Sloane swallowed, the words she’d been ready to say stalling on the tip of her tongue, stunned into silence.
“What’s up?” Reese asked, her brows drawing together as she studied Sloane’s face. She shifted, pushing herself into a seated position so they were eye to eye, close enough that Sloane could see the concern etched there.
“Just really thoughtful of you to ask,” Sloane said finally. “You’ve got a lot going on.”
“So do you,” Reese said automatically. “And I know how you respond to incidents on the track.” Sloane flashed to another time. Reese in a quiet suite, holding her hand, talking herthrough the panic that had wrapped itself tight around her. “How did you feel?”
Her therapists—there had been several over the years—would have encouraged her to take this moment, this sincere opening, and say the thing out loud. To name it. Sloane dropped her gaze to the bedspread, focusing on the navy stitching that formed neat four-inch squares. “Uh … at first, everything went a little tight,” she said. “My chest, especially. That’s usually my cue to remind myself to breathe. To tell myself I’m safe.”
Reese lifted Sloane’s hand and turned it over, examining her palm as if it required careful study. The simple gesture siphoned off some of the pressure, making the words easier to access.
“I looked around the restaurant to orient myself and forced a deep breath. That’s usually the moment when the panic either takes hold—or it doesn’t.”
Reese traced the lines of her palm, slow and purposeful, grounding in a way that felt almost deliberate.
“I was worried it would be bad,” Sloane admitted. “But being there with Denny helped. It added a level of safety. I was lucky.”
“I’m sorry that happened,” Reese said softly, lifting her gaze to meet Sloane’s. Her eyes held kindness, and something deeper—understanding. Reese knew exactly what they put on the line every time they climbed into a car. She understood the stakes in a way most people on earth never could. And still, she took them on. Because she loved the sport.
And so did Sloane. To this very day.
“When I took Veronica’s offer to work at the academy, I was worried about stepping back into the world.”
“I can imagine.”
“But meeting you? It’s helped.” Reese’s lips parted ever so slightly. “Because whatever is happening between us has been a bright spot. A tether that made me feel … well, stronger. Like I’m not in this alone.”
“You’re not. And I’m not either.” She squeezed Sloane’s hand.
“So, my thesis statement is that I’m grateful for you on this journey, Reese, and?—”
Reese’s phone lit up and vibrated, pulling attention from both of them.
She looked down at it and then back to Sloane, eyes wide. “It’s Jeremy.”
“He’s your agent, right?”
Reese nodded solemnly. “He’s probably just calling to tell me about Tyler. But I should take it just in?—”
“Go, go, go,” Sloane said. “Take it in the hall. Give yourself space.”
Reese nodded dutifully and excused herself to the hall for whatever news was about to come their way. Time seemed to stretch on for years, when in fact it was only five minutes. Sloane sat on the edge of the bed, unsure what to do with herself. She straightened the hangers in the closet, fixed her hair in the bathroom mirror, and made sure the TV’s remote was next to the bed. Anything to keep herself busy because the anticipation was almost too much. When Reese returned to the room, her face gave nothing away. In fact, it was carefully blank.
“Is it what I think it is?” Sloane asked, her heart hammering. “Was itthecall?”
She wanted this for Reese because it was what Reese wanted, but that didn’t stop the fear from twisting low in her chest. Did she have it in her to watch Reese, this woman she was growing to care for so deeply, step into a world where the margins were razor-thin and the risks so unforgiving?
Reese didn’t answer right away.
She closed the door behind her with more care than necessary, like even the sound of it might shatter somethingfragile in the room. Her phone was still in her hand, screen dark now, the call ended.
