Chapter Twelve #2
“Absolutely calling you that through customs.”
“I’ll tell them you’re trafficking something.”
His grin drops.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
Talon shakes his head, but there’s a tiny smile there.
Which still catches me off guard sometimes.
Things between us aren’t perfect.
I don’t think they will be for a while.
But they’re better.
And right now, I’ll take better.
Andre starts handing out information.
Flight time. Luggage limits. Gear transport. When everyone needs to be back here tomorrow. What gets shipped and what travels with us.
I listen, but somewhere between bike inspections and arrival schedules, my brain catches up to one very important detail.
I’m going to fucking Ireland.
Well.
Ireland-adjacent.
Whatever.
I’ve barely had time to process Tampa and now apparently we’re crossing an ocean.
I glance over at Wolfe.
He catches my eye and smiles.
I mouth, Ireland.
His grin widens.
Behind him, Thorne is looking down at the paperwork Andre gave him, but something about his expression has changed since he walked in.
He looks lighter.
Not fixed.
Just less shut down.
Maybe I’m projecting because of what Wolfe told me this morning.
Maybe I’m hoping.
Either way, I’m suddenly thinking about that conversation on the beach again.
Don’t give up on him.
I meant it.
Wolfe cares about Thorne so fucking much it practically hangs off him, and Thorne can pretend all he wants, but I’ve seen the way he looks at Wolfe when he thinks nobody notices.
Those two are going to kill me.
Assuming Draygon doesn’t get there first.
I glance beside me.
He’s already watching me.
Of course.
His eyebrow lifts.
I shake my head once.
Later.
The corner of his mouth moves like he understands anyway.
Fantastic.
My life is ridiculous.
“All right,” Andre says, snapping the folder shut. “One more thing.”
Everyone looks back at him.
“You can bring the girls.”
Revel immediately brightens. “Fuck yes.”
Andre points at him.
“But.”
Revel’s face falls.
“There it is.”
“If they can travel on this notice and they want to come, fine. Bring them. But I mean what I said about focus. No fucking around,”
He looks around at all of them.
“This is not a vacation. I don’t want anybody showing up late because you were out drinking. I don’t want anyone hungover. I don’t want relationship drama spilling into the paddock, and I definitely don’t want to hear that one of you did something fucking stupid because you forgot why we’re there.”
Revel slowly raises his hand again.
Andre closes his eyes.
“What now, St Clair?”
“What if the relationship drama is motivational?”
“Put your fucking hand down.”
Revel lowers it, completely unfazed. “I’m just saying, Cece’s attitude really gets the fire going. Great motivation for the track.”
Reign snorts, and Sayshen shakes his head.
Draygon reaches over and shoves Revel sideways by the shoulder. “Bro, shut the fuck up.”
Revel catches himself, laughing. “What? I’m being dead ass.”
“That’s what makes it worse,” Draygon mutters.
“I’m serious,” Andre says, and this time there’s no room for anyone to joke. “The TT is a big fucking deal. That course is thirty-seven miles of public road. No runoff. No gravel traps. You miss your line, you’re looking at stone walls, houses, trees.”
The room settles.
Andre looks around at all of them. “More than two hundred and sixty competitors have died racing on that Mountain Course over the years. Just last year, guys were leaving qualifying with broken spines, shattered ankles, head injuries. This year, a newcomer died during qualifying.”
That wipes the last of the smiles away.
Even Revel goes still.
Andre taps the folder against his palm. “So yeah, be excited. You should be. Getting invited is fucking huge. But understand what you’re signing up for. This isn’t one of our normal circuits where you push too hard, slide out and bitch about the fairings afterward.”
His eyes move across the group.
“One mistake over there can be the last one you make.”
Nobody says a word.
Wolfe folds his arms, expression serious now. Talon gives a slow nod. Reign’s grin is gone, and even Sayshen looks like the reality of it finally landed.
Andre exhales. “We go over there, we represent this team properly, and every single one of you comes home with me. Clear?”
A round of quieter yeahs moves through the garage.
“Good.” Andre looks around one final time. “Two days. Get your shit sorted. Sunday morning, I want everyone here at eight. Echo, I’ll send you the bike specs as soon as I get them.”
“Got it.”
“Good.”
He turns and starts toward his office, shutting the door behind him.
For one second, everyone just stands there.
The second Andre’s gone, the garage starts buzzing again.
“Holy shit,” Reign says, still grinning. “We’re actually doing the fucking TT.”
Sayshen laughs. “This is insane.”
“The good kind,” Revel says, grinning like he’s already halfway there.
Talon shakes his head, but even he looks excited now. Wolfe’s got that easy smile back, and Thorne is doing his best to look unaffected.
Our eyes catch for a second.
Just long enough for something tight to pull in my chest.
Then he looks away.
Right. Still doing that.
Revel claps his hands once. “Okay, fuck this. We need to celebrate.”
Sayshen looks over. “Our place. Beach this afternoon.”
“BBQ?” Reign asks.
“Obviously.”
“Bonfire too,” Revel adds.
Sayshen nods. “Hell yeah! Celebrate the TT and Wolfe’s birthday at the same time.”
Wolfe groans. “You guys really aren’t letting that go, are you?”
“Nope,” I say.
Draygon smirks. “I’m in.”
“Same,” Reign says. “I’ll grab Lena and we’ll meet you guys there,”
Talon gives a small shrug. “Yeah, all right. Cece and Bex are already there, working on one of Bexley’s new bikini lines for some project,”
Everyone looks toward Thorne.
He rolls his eyes. “Why are you all looking at me? Course I’m fuckin’ coming.”
Revel grins. “Perfect. Demon beach day it is.”
And just like that, it’s settled.
Two days until the Isle of Man, but tonight, we celebrate.