My eyes flash to Connor before answering.
“Yeah, it’s serious.”
He stands. “That’s cool. I hope it works out. Anyway, Ishould probably go get ready. I have to be at check-in at seven. Are you guys still going to come watch?”
“We’ll be there, don’t you worry,” I tell Renner with a smirk he doesn’t understand.
Once Renner is gone, I turn to Connor.
“That fucking asshole is trying to turn this whole thing around on us.”
“We still have a couple cards left to play; one of which is the ace of spades,” Connor reminds me with a grin.
Chapter 40
Connor
Pulling my Vertigo board from the nook by the front door, I welcome the familiar feeling of butterflies in my stomach. They’re much different now than they were the night I tried to get back on a board for the first time since the accident. These butterflies are familiar, creating a heat low in my belly, making me hungry for victory. And this particular victory will be oh so fucking sweet.
I run my hand along the board, caressing her, and checking her over for any spots I may have missed last night when doing my pre-race check. My hands are steady despite my nerves as Vox approaches me from behind and wraps his arms across my chest.
“She’s beautiful, Connor. She’s ready to fly, just like you,” he says reassuringly. My stomach clenches because I can hear the sadness in his voice. He wants to race so fucking badly.
“I’m going to win this for you,” I tell him, gripping his crossed arms where they rest against me.
“No way, baby. You’re going to win this foryou.” He pauses and then adds, “And Sam.”
Suddenly choked up, I nod, too afraid to speak.
“We need to roll. Are you ready?” he asks.
Nodding again, I let Vox look me over.
“Goggles, check. I’ve got your backup pair in my bag. Not sure yet what the weather’s going to do, so if you want to switch your lenses, just let me know. My dad said he’d have your Fall Line Boards jacket at check-in for you. Boots look good. Chapstick in your pocket?” he asks, as his hand pats the pocket over my chest. “Yes. Good. It’s windy today, so you’ll want to make sure you pull this up,” he says, tugging on my balaclava.
“This isn’t my first race, hotshot,” I remind him, his checklist spiking my nerves.
“I know. I just feel so fucking useless. Being your equipment manager makes me feel like I’m still a part of it.”
I grab the back of his neck and kiss him before putting my helmet on.
“You’re thebestpart of it.”
As Vox and I are making our way to check in, we’re joined by Turner Montgomery, who hands me a gorgeous ice-blue racing jacket with his logo splashed across the back. Seeing my last name sewn above it makes my heart skip a beat, and goosebumps break out across my flesh.
Taking the jacket from him, I choke out my words.
“Thank you for this opportunity.”
“Thankyoufor the opportunity to reconnect with my son. Have fun out there today.”
“Yes, sir.”
As we approach the registration booth, I give my name, and the guy checking in next to me whips his head in my direction, yelling, “No fucking way!No one told me you were going to be here!”
I smile at the guy as Vox takes my number and begins pinning it to my jacket.
“TheConnor Lang?” the guy asks.
