Chapter 18 Hello, F1
Morning arrived gently.
Reese surfaced a little at a time, aware first of warmth, then of weight—Sloane’s arm draped over her waist, her breath a steady, familiar rhythm against the back of Reese’s shoulder. Sunlight filtered through the thin hotel curtains, painting everything gold and unhurried.
For once, Reese didn’t feel the need to move right away.
She lay there, cataloging the quiet details: the faint crease in the pillow where Sloane’s head rested, the way her fingers curled unconsciously, as if even in sleep she was making sure Reese was still there.
The night before hadn’t been dramatic or rushed or heavy with consequence.
It had been easy. Laughter and conversation and a closeness that had settled in naturally, like it had always meant to.
Reese smiled to herself.
“Good morning,” Sloane murmured behind her, voice still rough with sleep.
Reese’s smile widened. “You’re awake.”
“Have been for a minute,” Sloane admitted. Her thumb brushed a lazy arc along Reese’s hip before sliding up to her right breast and cradling it. “Didn’t want to break the spell.”
Reese rolled onto her side so they were face-to-face. Up close, Sloane looked softer, more relaxed, and more beautiful than ever, the edges of her usual composure eased by rest and morning light. Reese reached up, smoothing a stray lock of hair back from Sloane’s forehead.
“You okay?” Sloane asked.
Reese nodded without hesitation. “More than okay.”
“Me too.”
The certainty in her voice did something quiet but profound to Reese. It was everything she wanted to hear.
“One thing you don’t know about me yet, is how much I enjoy the morning.”
Reese raised a brow. “Yeah?”
“Can I show you?”
Reese nodded as Sloane slid down the bed.
When warm lips found her center, Reese closed her eyes and swore.
She parted her legs to give Sloane better access, aware that the orgasm was only right around the corner.
Sloane’s tongue circled her clit, teasing, until Reese began to rock her hips, seeking the payout she now desperately needed.
Her body went warm and tight when Sloane started to softly suck, coaxing her closer and closer until the dam broke and pleasure raced through her with a force she hadn’t been prepared for.
“Fuck,” she cried out, her fingers through Sloane’s hair.
“Oh, fuck. Oh, my God.” Sloane continued to play as Reese rode out the remaining shock waves.
“See? I think that’s kind of the perfect way to say good morning.” Sloane then slid out of bed and walked naked, stunning and unapologetic, toward the bathroom. “Gonna grab a shower. See you soon.”
“But I didn’t get to repay the very sexy favor. Get back here. Or at least walk across the room naked again. In fact, always do that.”
“Later!” Sloane stuck her head out. “You have an important morning, and I wanted to send you off right.”
“I think you aced that one.” Reese blew a strand of hair off her forehead and lay there an extra moment, her body heavy and happy on the cool sheets.
Sloane’s voice floated in. “Also, I love the noises you make just before.”
“I don’t make sounds.”
“God, you so do.”
Reese laughed and turned over, grabbing her phone. She’d called Luke and her mom the night before and texted the news to The Starting Grid to ensure her friends would hear it from her before any of the race outlets, which she knew would be reporting that morning.
She took a look at the messages now, smiling at them.
Marissa had been first.
Marissa
Fuck yeah, you saucy little race minx. You actually did it! Do you know how hard I’m going to hug you tomorrow?
Delaney must have seen the message early that morning, probably on her way to work out.
Delaney
Literally shaking right now. Are you kidding me? Let’s fucking goooooo!
Cassidy had yet to chime in, which meant she was probably not up yet, the resident sleepyhead of Formula Next. She’d once slept through her own practice session.
Room service arrived, Sloane’s doing, and Reese, in her underwear and a black tank top, nursed an orange juice as she watched the sun rise higher and higher in the sky.
Fresh from the shower and wearing a fluffy robe, Sloane came to stand behind her, her cheek pressed to the side of Reese’s shoulder. “Excited?”
“Nervous.”
“Pshh. Since when do you get nervous? This is a good thing,” Sloane said finally, low and sure. Not the voice she used on pit walls or in meetings. This one was just for Reese, intimate and familiar. “No matter how it shakes out.”
Reese nodded, though her chest felt too tight for words. “I keep thinking I’m going to walk in there and they’ll squint a minute and realize I’m not what they ordered, like an erroneous Big Mac.”
“They won’t,” Sloane said immediately, without hesitation. She tipped her forehead to Reese’s. “And if it’s not a fit, that says nothing about you. Remember, this is a business as much as it is a sport.”
Something in the center of Reese’s chest loosened, and she relaxed. Sloane had a way of adjusting her perspective right when she needed it. “You always know what to say. You’re too wise. You’ve gotta stop it.”
Sloane huffed softly. “Untrue. I just know you more and more each day.”
For a few seconds, the world narrowed to the space between them. The hum of the hotel faded. The pressure of what came next paused, suspended.
“This has been a good morning.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Sloane brushed her thumb along Reese’s jaw. “Go get ready,” she said, gentler now. “Walk in there like you belong. Because you do.”
Reese leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to Sloane’s mouth—warm, grounding, full of promise and restraint all at once. “I’ll see you after? Say yes.”
“I feel like that’s becoming your signature line.” Sloane’s smile was soft but sure. “I’ll be right here.”
Reese lingered one heartbeat longer, then stepped back before she could overthink it. Before the moment asked for more than either of them could give. It was perfect as it was.
Forty-five minutes later, Reese had just finished pulling on her jacket in her own room, nerves buzzing under her skin like static, when the knock came.
She frowned at the door, not expecting anyone.
When she opened it, Cassidy launched herself forward into Reese’s arms. “Well, hi,” Reese said with a laugh.
“Oh my God,” Cassidy said, wrapping Reese in a fierce hug, her cheek pressed hard against Reese’s shoulder. “You did it. I mean—you haven’t done it yet—but you did it. You’re gonna do it. I’m so proud of you that I can’t stand it.”
Reese laughed. “I hope to do it, and thank you.”
Cassidy pulled back just long enough to grin at her, eyes bright and unapologetically damp. “I just saw the message, or you would have heard from me sooner.” She shook her head, smiling helplessly. “The Starting Grid thread should come with the sound of an alert for important moments.”
“Nope,” Reese said cheerfully. “This is perfect information control. I’m enjoying the staggered celebration.”
Cassidy hugged Reese again, tighter this time, rocking them both slightly like she couldn’t help it.
“Did I mention that I’m exponentially proud of you?
You’re going to walk in there and be brilliant and charming, the quickest on the track they’ve ever seen, and they’re going to fall over themselves trying to figure out how they ever almost missed you. ”
Reese swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. Cassidy spoke with such conviction that she was almost convinced it was true. “You really think so?”
Cassidy pulled back, hands still on Reese’s arms, utterly sincere. “I know so. And also—” Her voice dropped conspiratorially. “If they don’t, I will personally fight them. I’m slight, but I’m scrappy.”
Reese laughed again, this time steadier. “I believe you.”
Cassidy beamed, clearly pleased. “Good. Now go. Be amazing. Text the chat the second you’re done because I’m going to be pacing laps around the garage waiting to hear. Oh, wait. Who’s racing today for Ravensport?”
“One of the academy reserves they’re pulling in from F3. Julie will engineer. I’m going to try not to be jealous.”
“The web of drivers is a complicated math problem I’m still learning.”
“You’ll get there. Look how fast you’ve learned to drive a single-seater. One of the best defenders on the academy circuit.”
“You’re going to make me blush.” Cassidy squeezed her once more, then finally let go, backing toward the hallway. “No matter what happens,” she said, softer now, “this is huge. Don’t forget that. Enjoy your moment. Eat some chocolate. Do a cartwheel.”
Reese watched her go, heart full and humming. Cassidy was pure light, and she continued to prove it over and over again.
When the door closed, Reese stood there for a second longer, breathing in the support, the love, the fragile sense that everything was lining up just right.
Then she squared her shoulders, grabbed her keys, and headed out to meet her future.
The Laurens Racing hospitality suite was all clean lines and curated confidence, intimidating in the way it felt like grown-ups lived here.
Glass, brushed metal, and the quiet hum of money doing what it always did best. Well, well, Dorothy.
You’re not in Kansas anymore. Reese took a breath before stepping inside, rolling her shoulders once, the way she did before climbing into a car.
Ready.
Shanelle Laurens was already there, standing near the windows with a tablet tucked under her arm.
She turned as Reese entered, her smile sharp and appraising in a way that felt deliberate rather than unkind.
A Black woman in a sport dominated by white men would surely have her work cut out for her, but Shanelle knew the business of racing more than anyone.
She was well respected, but it hadn’t always been that way.
“Reese,” Shanelle said. “Right on time.”
Reese returned the smile. “I try to be.”