Chapter Twenty
Echo
By the fourth morning in the paddock, I finally stop feeling like I’m borrowing somebody else’s job. Which is impressive, considering I woke up this morning wrapped around Wolfe with his arm heavy over my waist and absolutely no desire to move.
I’m still thinking about him more than I should be.
About how different he is when there’s no one else around.
Softer somehow, even though Wolfe is already probably the gentlest person on this entire fucking team.
Last night there was no rush in him, no need to prove anything or turn every touch into something bigger than it was.
He was just warm and patient and so stupidly affectionate that I’m pretty sure he spent more time kissing me than doing anything else, like having me there was enough on its own.
And afterward was somehow worse.
The way he held me against his chest. The way his fingers kept moving lazily through my hair while we talked about nothing and everything until my eyes started getting heavy. The way he kissed the top of my head when he thought I was already asleep.
Kind.
That’s the word I keep coming back to.
Wolfe is kind in a way that doesn’t feel performative. He doesn’t make a big deal out of taking care of people. He just does it, so naturally that sometimes you don’t realize how much he’s giving until you’re already standing in the middle of it.
Apparently that’s dangerous as fuck for me.
Because somewhere between falling asleep on his chest and waking up with his face buried against the back of my neck, I realized just how easy it would be to get used to him.
Maybe I already am.
I push the thought aside and look down at the setup sheet in front of me before I can make myself emotional over a man who is currently twenty feet away drinking coffee like he didn’t spend half the night making my chest feel weird.
Work.
I can do work.
The sponsor bikes don’t feel foreign anymore. I know which one runs hot, which gets twitchy under hard braking, which rear starts moving around on corner exit, and exactly how far I can push Thorne’s setup before he starts acting like I’ve personally sabotaged his career.
More importantly, I’m starting to understand what each bike wants from me.
Not as instinctively as the ones back home yet, but enough that I’m not second-guessing every adjustment or checking the same thing four times before I trust myself.
I know what the guys mean now, even when half of them are absolutely shit at explaining it, and the feedback has gotten smaller with every session.
Yesterday there was still a lot of maybe this and something feels off there.
Today, we’re down to fine-tuning. Half a click here, a little more support there, just enough resistance taken out to give them what they need without chasing problems that aren’t there anymore. We’re not fixing things now, we’re dialing them in, which means we’re close.
Actually fucking close.
I’m leaning over Wolfe’s setup sheet, comparing the notes from his last run against the changes I made yesterday, when he drops onto the stool beside me and starts peeling his gloves off one finger at a time.
“Well?”
Wolfe leans back on the stool, pulling one glove free with his teeth before dropping it into his lap. “Almost perfect.”
I immediately look up. “Almost?”
His mouth curves. “Knew that’d get your attention.”
“Don’t be annoying. What is it?”
He takes a drink of water, still looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Front’s good under braking, but I’m still getting a little more resistance than I want when I transition through the faster stuff. Nothing bad. Just feels like I’m working it harder than I should.”
I glance down at yesterday’s notes and run my finger over the last adjustment we made. “Same place as before?”
“Less than before.”
“So we fixed most of it.”
“You fixed most of it.”
I look back over the notes, then point to the line with my pen. “I can take one more click out. It should free the front up through the faster transitions without messing with the support you’ve got under braking.”
Wolfe watches me for a second, then nods. “Do it.”
“That’s it?”
“You know what you’re doing.”
Something warm pulls low in my chest at how easily he says it.
I set the sheet aside and move to the bike, crouching beside the front end while Wolfe stays where he is, close enough that I can feel him watching without needing to look.
I make the adjustment carefully, one click and nothing more, then run my hand over the area out of habit before standing again.
“There. That’s all I’m touching.”
“Happy?”
“I’ll be happy when you come back and tell me it did what I wanted.”
His hand catches lightly at my waist when I step closer, and before I can say anything else, he leans in and kisses me.
It’s quick at first, soft and familiar, but I smile against his mouth and that’s apparently enough encouragement for him to kiss me again, slower this time.
When I pull back, he’s still close enough that his forehead almost brushes mine.
“Now go test it before you distract me into forgetting I have a job.”
His thumb presses once into my side. “Yes, ma’am.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m still smiling when he finally lets me go.
There’s a looseness to him this morning that wasn’t there when we first got here.
The course is still dangerous and every one of them knows it, but that first-day tension has settled into something steadier now.
Respect instead of nerves. They’re not underestimating what they’re doing anymore, they’ve just stopped letting the fear take up all the space.
Wolfe takes a step backward, still watching me.
“You’re smiling.”
“I am not.”
“You definitely are.”
“Go bother somebody else.”
“Can’t.” He starts pulling his gloves on, that easy grin still sitting on his mouth. “You’re my favorite.”
Heat rushes straight into my face before I can stop it.
I grab the pen off the bench and throw it at him.
He catches it one-handed without breaking stride.
Cocky bastard.
****
By late morning, Andre confirms they’ve got another full practice block before the schedule starts tightening closer to race day.
Talon, Draygon, Thorne and Wolfe are heading out in the same block, staggered enough that they’ll each have their own stretch of road but still close enough to stay on the team channel.
Reign, Sayshen and Revel are up next, which leaves the three of them hanging around the bay with absolutely nothing productive to do.
Naturally, Revel decides to become my problem.
He leans over my shoulder while I’m checking Wolfe’s rear tire.
“You ever think about how weird tires are?”
I don’t look up. “No.”
“The whole bike is depending on two tiny patches of rubber touching the road.”
“Please leave.”
“I’m serious. That’s fragile as fuck when you really think about it.”
“Revel.”
“Yeah?”
I straighten and point across the bay. “Your motorcycle is over there.”
He looks toward it, then back at me.
“It misses you.”
Reign catches the back of his shirt and starts dragging him away. “Come on before she stabs you.”
Revel lets himself go, still looking deeply offended. “She’s suppressing intellectual curiosity.”
“I’m preserving your life.”
“Basically the same thing.”
Sayshen laughs from somewhere behind them while I shake my head and turn back to Wolfe’s bike.
A minute later, Wolfe walks over already zipped into his leathers, helmet tucked under one arm. He doesn’t say anything, just stops beside me while I finish checking the rear, move around to the front and run through the controls one last time.
I make it about five seconds before the weight of his stare starts crawling over my skin.
“Stop staring at me.”
“Can’t.”
I glance up. “You absolutely can.”
“Okay, I could,” he says, mouth pulling into that lazy grin. “But I don’t want to.”
“Shocking.”
“Thought you liked the attention.”
“Depends who it’s from.”
His brows lift. “That right?”
I give him a pointed look and go back to the bike, finishing the last couple checks while he stands there entirely too pleased with himself.
“You know,” he says after a second, “you were much sweeter to me last night.”
“That was before you started hovering over me at work.”
“I’m not hovering.”
“You’re literally standing two feet away watching me.”
“Admiring.”
I look over my shoulder. “Annoying.”
His grin widens and he reaches for me.
His hand slides around the back of my neck and he pulls me into a kiss right there beside the bike, warm and familiar enough that for a second I forget there are twenty people moving around us.
It isn’t dramatic and nothing about it feels different, it just feels like,Wolfe.
His mouth against mine. The faint woodsy, leather and smoke scent. His thumb brushing once beneath my hair before I pull away.
“You’re going to get yelled at.”
“Worth it.”
“Go.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He pulls his helmet on, but before heading for his bike, he looks over at Thorne.
Thorne is still fastening one glove, and Wolfe walks straight over, catching the edge of his helmet with two fingers and giving it a light tap.
“Try to keep up today.”
Thorne looks him over slowly. “Bit cocky, aren’t you?”
“I’m always cocky.”
“Yeah, noticed.”
Wolfe grins. “You like it.”
Thorne’s mouth pulls into something wicked. “Maybe I do.”
There’s a beat where Wolfe just looks at him, amused and warm, before Thorne reaches out and gives the front of his leathers a small tug.
“Hey, Echo, I was thinking I might keep our man tonight.”
Wolfe’s brows lift.
Thorne glances over at me and blows me a kiss, followed by a cheeky wink. “You’re welcome to join, obviously.”
I laugh. “How generous of you.”
Draygon passes behind me on his way toward his bike, presses a quick kiss to the top of my head and gives my ass a playful pat as he goes.
“Oh, so I’m not invited?”
I look after him. “The more the merrier.”
He glances back over his shoulder, dark eyes amused. “Good answer.”
Thorne points at him. “Don’t get too excited, mate. I said I’m keeping Wolfe.”
“And apparently Echo’s running open enrollment,” Draygon replies.
“Exactly,” I say.