CHAPTER ONE
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Dana
She noticed the way shoulders slumped under the invisible weight of a botched strategy call from the pit wall.
She saw jaws clench around old crashes that had never fully healed, the ghost pain flaring whenever the weather turned cold or the g-forces spiked.
She caught the way eyes dulled when the once-electric thrill of the sport slowly morphed into just another endless, grinding day on the calendar.
At thirty-eight, Dana had become almost eerily good at spotting strain — whether it lived in the knotted muscles of a driver’s neck after a long stint in the cockpit or hid behind a friend’s bright but forced smile at a sponsor event.
Tonight, however, the hospitality suite of the Ashworth Racing motorhome hummed with something brighter, something almost electric. The kind of raw, unguarded energy that even a cynical, battle-hardened physio like Dana found impossible to ignore.
Jax’s stunning pole-position qualifying lap for the season opener still replayed on every screen around the suite, the timing perfect, the car dancing on the edge of grip in a way that made the whole paddock buzz.
It was all the more sweet because Dana knew exactly what it meant to him.
Jax was a good friend of hers — one of the few drivers she genuinely cared about beyond the professional boundaries of her job.
She had watched him endure the brutal heartbreak at the end of last season: finally winning the World Championship he had chased for years, claiming Aria’s heart after a long, tentative dance around their feelings, only to lose his grandmother — the strong, no-nonsense woman who had raised him single-handedly after his parents’ absence.
The woman who had been his anchor, his loudest cheerleader, and his quiet moral compass through every karting weekend and junior formula grind.
The grief had hit him like a high-speed impact.
For weeks he had moved through life like a ghost, shoulders heavier than any championship trophy could lighten.
The pre-season had been dedicated to healing — not just the body, but the raw, gaping hole in his chest. Dana had worked on him personally during those quiet winter months: long physio sessions where the conversation turned from car balance to the ache of missing the one person who had always believed he could be more than his last lap time.
She had seen the slow return of light in his eyes, the way his posture straightened as the pain began to loosen its grip, and how Aria’s steady presence had become the new foundation he could lean on without shame.
That pole tonight wasn’t just a fast lap.
It was proof that Jax was coming back to himself — stronger, wiser, and finally allowing joy back into his life.
The mechanics whooped and hollered down the corridor outside, and the sharp, familiar scent of hot rubber and brake dust lingered in the air like smoke from a recent, hard-fought battle.
But none of that held Mia’s attention. She had already seized Dana’s wrist with surprising strength and dragged both her and Aria into a quiet, dimly lit corner of the suite where the thumping noise of celebration softened to a distant murmur and the warm, golden lighting felt suddenly more intimate, almost conspiratorial.
“Lucas proposed,” Mia burst out, her eyes sparkling brighter than the glittering city lights visible through the windows behind her. “Last week in Nice — at our little olive grove, just as the sun was rising. Is was the whole fairytale. He got down on one knee before my coffee had even cooled.”
The platinum ring on her finger caught the soft light — simple, elegant, and utterly certain. Aria’s eyes filled with tears instantly. Without a word, she pulled Mia into a fierce, lifting hug, as bright laughter spilled through happy tears that refused to be contained.
Dana stepped forward without hesitation, wrapping her strong arms around both women.
Mia smelled of jasmine and the faint, ever-present trace of trackside adrenaline that seemed to cling to all of them — the same scent she had carried since the day she first arrived at Ashworth Racing seven years earlier.
Back then Mia had been wide-eyed, full of endless questions, and almost impossible not to love.
Dana had been the hardened one in those early days, already deep in the trenches of the garage, her hands calloused from years of manual therapy and her heart guarded from too many seasons of watching talented people break themselves against the unforgiving sport.
Their friendship had formed fast and deep: late-night coffees in dimly lit hotel lobbies, shared eye-rolls at over-the-top sponsor expectations, and a bond forged strong enough to weather every storm the paddock could throw at them — from heartbreaking DNFs to tabloid scandals and the quiet, grinding pressure of constant travel.
Dana had known Lucas even longer. She had first met him back in the karting days when he was still a cocky, sharp-tongued teenager carrying the crushing weight of a famous racing surname like a millstone around his neck.
She had taped up his scrapes, given him straight-talking grief whenever he pushed his young body too hard, and quietly watched him grow into the exceptionally talented driver — and the grounded man — he was today.
When Mia had entered his life, Dana had seen the profound change almost immediately: the constant, restless noise in Lucas’s head had finally begun to quiet.
The heavy emotional armour he had worn for years started to crack, letting in light for the first time in a long while.
They had both been through enough pain, enough disappointment, and enough loss to approach love with careful, wary hands. Tonight, that hard-earned caution had finally given way to something beautiful and certain.
“Holy shit, Mia,” Dana murmured, her throat tight with emotion even as her grin stretched wide and genuine across her face. “About bloody time. You two are so perfect together it’s almost sickening to watch.”
Mia laughed, the sound watery but bright and full of joy. “Hey, don’t ruin the moment with your cynicism!”
“Too late,” Dana replied, squeezing both women harder for a moment before gently pulling back just enough to swipe at the corner of her eye with the back of her hand. “I’m really, really happy for you. After everything the two of you have been through… you deserve this more than anyone I know.”
Aria eased out of the group hug first, her cheeks streaked with joyful tears but glowing with that quiet, steady warmth that Jax had slowly coaxed back to life— the same warmth that had helped pull Jax through his own grief.
Seeing her friend laugh through happy tears sent a sharp, unexpected wave of warmth flooding through Dana’s chest — a reminder that some things in this chaotic world could still heal, even after devastating loss.
Later, when the celebrations had finally quieted and the Melbourne night had turned crisp and cool, Dana walked back to the hotel alone. The gold-embossed wedding invitation pressed against her hip inside her jacket pocket like a small, insistent weight she couldn’t quite ignore.
Thirty-eight.
Mia — her best mate, the young woman she had taken under her wing all those years ago — was finally settling down into something real and lasting.
Aria had Jax and that soft, steady glow that seemed to radiate from her these days.
And Dana? She had a string of short-lived sparks that had never lasted longer than six months.
Dating apps filled with ghosts who vanished after one conversation and men who wanted to lecture her about cryptocurrency.
Dates that too often ended with awkward requests for Lucas’s autograph or condescending comments about how women belonged in the hospitality suite, not deep in the technical heart of the garage.
She wasn’t bitter. Not exactly. Just… profoundly exhausted.
She paused under the wide hotel awning, tilting her head back toward the hazy city stars that struggled to shine through the light pollution.
She was truly, deeply thrilled for Mia and for Jax’s hard-won moment of triumph.
But alone in the quiet dark, the question she usually kept locked away in the deepest part of herself slipped through anyway, unbidden and sharp:
Had the life she had always vaguely assumed would one day show up already slipped past her without her even noticing?
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Eddie
The party on the rooftop was slowly winding down by the time Eddie slipped away.
Low, pulsing music still drifted through the warm night air, scattered bursts of laughter floated on the breeze, and half-empty champagne glasses sweated on tables scattered across the terrace.
He had done his duty — firm sponsor handshakes, polite small talk with team principals, and a quick, focused word with Etienne about the setup changes needed for tomorrow’s race.
The tall, dark-haired actress from the hit streaming series everyone was buzzing about caught his eye across the crowd.
She laughed easily at his dry, self-deprecating quip about the razor-thin margins of qualifying, touched his arm with light but deliberate fingers, and leaned in close enough for him to catch the heady mix of her expensive perfume and unmistakable intent.
They left together, slipping out discreetly and ordering an Uber that arrived within minutes.
In the back seat of the sleek black car, the city lights of Melbourne streaked past the tinted windows in blurred ribbons of gold and neon.
The moment the door clicked shut, the actress — Tara, she had reminded him with a sultry smile — turned toward him with hungry eyes.
Her hand slid up his thigh as she closed the distance, her mouth finding his in a deep, heated kiss that tasted of champagne and promise.