Epilogue
Six Months Later
The Mojave Desert stretched wide, and around Willow Springs International Raceway, the asphalt ribbon of track cut through the surrounding pale sand, as if someone had drawn it there with a marker. It was quiet there that day. Just their group, there for a little fun during the offseason.
Reese leaned against the pit wall, sunglasses pushed up into her hair as the wind, warm for February, rolled across the valley.
Six months ago, she’d been standing on a balcony in Barcelona, trying to imagine what her life might look like with Sloane fully in it.
Turns out the answer was: better than she’d even dared to picture.
Venice Beach had quietly become home. Not just her address between races, and the three months of the offseason, but something real.
Their mornings started slow—sunlight spilling through the windows while they stayed tangled in bed far longer than either of them intended.
Some days, they ran along the boardwalk before the crowds woke up.
Other days, they didn’t bother leaving the beach house until noon.
Afternoons meant sand and salt air, lying side by side on the beach with the Pacific stretching endlessly in front of them.
But evenings were the best part.
The smallest outdoor cafés with string lights and tables squeezed onto sidewalks. Shared plates. Cold wine. Sloane’s hand resting casually on Reese’s thigh like it belonged there.
And the nights …
Well.
Reese smiled to herself.
Safe to say neither of them had suffered from a lack of enthusiasm in that department. They were adventurous in bed, loving, and deeply satisfied.
Life had settled into something warm and bright and very much what they made it.
And in a few weeks, the new Formula 1 season would start again.
Reese would be back in the Laurens car, chasing the other drivers around the world, and seeing if she could advance Laurens’s spot in the Constructors’ Championship.
Sloane was headed back to the academy for another season, which meant they’d be together in almost every city on the schedule.
She couldn’t wait to explore each one with her hand in Sloane’s.
Behind Reese, the rest of the crew had taken over the garage like it belonged to them.
Marissa and Cassidy were arguing about who’d had the cleanest lap of the afternoon. Delaney was sprawled across a stack of tires, insisting she could definitely beat Marissa if she got “just one more go.”
And a few yards away, Samara had a camera perched on her shoulder, documenting the chaos with obvious satisfaction.
Her film was almost complete and off to editing, but she wanted to grab a few extra shots of Reese gearing up for the season ahead.
Some unofficial car time with her friends should fill out the story nicely.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Samara said when Reese noticed the cameras on her … again. “You’re the one who made the story so compelling. I’m just seeing it through.”
Reese laughed.
Veronica clapped her hands once, drawing everyone’s attention.
“All right,” she said brightly. “Everyone’s had some time to play behind the wheel. Should we head to dinner, maybe?” Even Veronica had slid behind the wheel of the retired F1 car. She’d borrowed it from a friend who’d picked it up at auction. The car could move. Reese was impressed.
Delaney pointed toward the far end of the garage. “Not everyone.”
All eyes shifted to Sloane, who stood near the car, looking relaxed and happy.
“Oh no,” Sloane said immediately. “Today is for you all. I’m literally the cheerleader.”
Marissa folded her arms. “Sloane. Can you honestly walk away from this without driving a lap or two? No crowd. No media. Just friends hanging out.”
Cassidy nodded calmly. “No pressure. You can set your own pace.”
“It would be disrespectful to motorsport not to have a little fun,” Delaney said.
“Oh, I had no idea,” Sloane said with a laugh. “I would hate to offend motorsport, but … I’m not sure I want to go there.”
Veronica grinned like a proud mastermind. “Well, the car’s privately owned and fully insured.” Sloane raised an eyebrow. Then she looked over at Reese.
Reese shrugged, a slow smile spreading across her face.
“Totally your decision.”
Sloane studied their faces, clearly teetering, almost like the temptation was too much. “Well, why not?”
“We’re doing this,” Delaney said, clapping her hands.
A few minutes later, Sloane was lowering herself into the cockpit of the old single-seater, sliding into the seat like her body remembered every inch of the motion. The engine fired with a sharp mechanical growl that echoed across the open desert.
Everyone drifted toward the pit wall.
Even Samara lowered her camera slightly, suddenly very interested, before raising it again, realizing what she might be about to capture.
The car rolled out onto the track.
The first lap seemed cautious. Sloane was feeling the brakes, testing them out. Then, the steering. The grip.
“She’s rusty,” Delaney predicted.
“Well, yeah. Give her a minute,” Veronica said, hands on her hips, dark hair blowing in the breeze, as she stared out at the track.
Second lap. Faster. Cleaner.
Reese felt something tighten pleasantly in her chest. Things were looking good out there. The way Sloane placed the car through the corners had her breath catching—smooth, controlled, and effortless.
Cassidy leaned forward slightly. “Okay.”
Marissa’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh.”
Third lap. Sloane decided to stop being polite. The car exploded down the straight, engine screaming as she braked impossibly late into the corner and snapped the car toward the apex with surgical precision.
Delaney blinked. “Holy shit.”
“And there’s Sloane,” Veronica said with a nod of her head.
Marissa laughed in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Cassidy shook her head slowly. “That’s … absurd.”
Reese just stood there, grinning like an idiot.
Because watching Sloane drive like this—confident, fearless, completely in command—was the sexiest damn thing Reese had ever seen in her life.
Veronica beamed like a proud parent. “That’s my girl,” she said. “That’s my best friend.”
Sloane finished the lap like she had something to prove, carving through the final corner before coasting back to the pit lane.
The car rolled to a stop in front of the garage. The engine shut off. And suddenly everyone was talking at once.
“Did you get that?” Delaney asked, turning to Samara.
“Every second,” Samara said. “Wow.”
Sloane climbed out of the cockpit, pulling off her helmet and shaking out her hair like she hadn’t just stunned the entire group.
Reese didn’t think. She just walked straight over, grabbed the front of Sloane’s race suit, and kissed her. Hard. The pit lane erupted.
Delaney whooped loudly. “That’s the kind of energy we need today.”
Marissa laughed, clapping once. “Iconic.”
Cassidy shook her head with a small grin. “Honestly? Relationship goals.”
A few feet away, Samara kept filming, clearly delighted with what she was capturing.
When Reese finally pulled back, Sloane was smiling that easy, confident smile that had undone her from the very beginning.
“You liked that?” Sloane asked softly, squeezing Reese’s hand and then heading over to the group.
“Liked it?” she called, hurrying to catch up. “Are you kidding me? That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. You’re a badass. I mean, I knew you were a badass. But you still are a badass. As in presently.”
“Thank you, baby.” Sloane leaned over and kissed her again, quick this time, but just as certain, her hand settling warm and steady at the back of Reese’s neck.
Standing there in the middle of the desert, surrounded by engines, sunshine, and the people who had become their family, Reese had the quiet, unmistakable feeling that everything had landed exactly where it was supposed to.
Around them, their friends were still buzzing, arguing about lap times and replaying the moment Sloane had rocketed through the final corner like she’d never left the sport at all.
The desert wind moved across the track, restless beneath the afternoon sun, carrying the sound of laughter and the engine ticking as it cooled. This was the kind of night Reese lived for right along with the people she loved most. She wanted to bottle the moment and save it forever.
Reese slipped her hand into Sloane’s, their fingers slotting together easily.
Six months ago, she’d been hoping this life might work. Now she knew it did. And on the horizon, the new season was waiting like a fresh page about to turn.
More races. More cities. More miles.
But this time, Reese stepped into it with not just ambition, but something she’d never had before: the woman she loved beside her.
And honestly?
Reese couldn’t wait to see where they went next.