“You’ll probably be here for roughly six, maybe seven hours. But don’t worry. Lunch will be served.”
That was a good thing.
“It’ll go by fast,” the guy assured him.
Right. Like Z was even remotely worried about spending the good part of a Saturday at a racetrack.
***
Atticus took his turn filling out paperworkbefore joining everyone else in what was clearly a classroom. According to the person who had checked him in, training was part of the experience. Not only would they have someone teaching them beforehand, but they would also have someone in the car helping them along.
He would do whatever because he was just along for the ride.
He looked up when Slade walked in. He didn’t make a sound, didn’t move an inch, wondering if Slade would join him or if he would continue to pretend that yesterday hadn’t happened.
That had been the case for most of last night. While Atticus had unpacked what few belongings he had—shoving clothes into drawers, hanging a few in the closet, stashing his toiletries in the bathroom—Slade had watched TV in the living room. When Atticus came to join him, Slade went to the kitchen and made himself a sandwich. He’d offered Atticus one, but he could tell it was an afterthought, so he declined. Rather than watch TV with him after that, Slade had excused himself to his bedroom.
Atticus had considered trying to talk to him, but he wasn’t sure what there was to say. He wanted to pretend Slade had no reason to be upset with him, but he knew better. What he was asking of Slade wasn’t fair. Not even a little.
So rather than hash it out, Atticus had gone to bed only to be woken up before dawn when Baz came banging on the front door.
And here they were.
He watched Slade as he walked toward him. He held his breath but let it out with a shit ton of disappointment when Slade took a seat beside Evan.
Atticus knew he would have to confront Slade at some point, but it wouldn’t be today. Or tomorrow, for that matter. This was Brantley and Reese’s time, and the last thing Atticus wanted to do was make them regret inviting him.
***
“Hey, man, can I ask you fora favor?”
Evan watched as Cal approached the man at the front of the classroom. They exchanged a few words, and a minute later, Cal pulled out his phone and took a selfie with the guy, grinning wide.
“Five points, bitches,” Cal told the room, holding up his phone to show the photo on the screen. He pointed to his own head, referring to the fact the guy was wearing a hat.
“Did you get that, Z?” Evan called out to the man in charge of keeping score. “Five points for my team.”
Z flipped him off, but he pulled out his phone and typed something.
“Send it to JJ,” Baz instructed. “It doesn’t count if she doesn’t see it.”
Cal tapped something on his phone as he took a seat at the front of the room. A second later, Griffin came in wearing a shit-eating grin to go with his determined expression. He held up his phone, shoving it in his brother’s face.
“Five points for Atticus’s team,” Griffin announced. “I felt the dude’s beard.” He canted his head, awhaddya knowlook aimed at his audience. “It was softer than it looked.”
Z choked on a laugh as he continued to type.
Evan had honestly forgotten all about the scavenger hunt. Ever since they announced that this was a group thing, he’d been trying to decide whether he wanted to bow out gracefully or suck it up and get behind the wheel. Considering how excited Brantley and Reese appeared to be that they were all getting a chance to drive, Evan opted for the latter. He wasn’t a thrill seeker by nature. Some might claim his career as a police officer would contradict that, but it was true. And perhaps his career choice was why he’d never been into adrenaline-pumping activities.
Except here he was, about to get schooled on the art of racing.
He was still grinning like a fool when Slade sat down next to him.
“Seriously?” Evan said, frowning at his partner.
“What?”
“You’ve spent the past month counting down the seconds until Atticus got back, and now you’re sitting by me?”
