Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
Hours later, Lana and I walk hand in hand from the racetrack to where the after-party is being held.
I know she’s watching me with curious eyes, but I can’t seem to shake this strange mood.
It started when we parked and walked into the track.
My heart started racing, a Pavlov’s effect to the impending adrenaline my body thought I’d be feeding it soon.
It was familiar—the sounds, the smells, the feel.
All the same as before, except it was all wrong.
Instead of wearing a race suit, I’m in jeans and a T-shirt.
Instead of taking my place in the pit, I sat in a numbered folding chair.
Instead of wearing a helmet and hearing the race relayed through the headset, I heard it from the announcers and watched the turns that can’t be seen from the stands on a screen.
It was all wrong. Totally and completely wrong.
The door to the party comes into view, and I reach for it, but instead of grabbing the handles, Lana tugs my hand, pulling me aside. I look down at her with confusion, and she gives me a reassuring smile that I try to return. From the uncomfortable look on her face, I don’t think I nailed it.
“You okay?” she asks, voice low.
“Yeah. I’m fine. It’s just… It’s just a lot,” I say, trying to keep myself from sounding too down.
“We can go back,” she murmurs, her hand reaching up to settle on my chest. “It’s fine, Rome. We don’t have to—”
“We do,” I tell her, my voice not a cautious whisper like hers.
“Rome, it’s clear this isn’t fun for you.”
“It’s not,” I admit, a bit too much sharpness in my voice.
I close my eyes and try to center myself.
“It’s not fun. It sucks, and I wish I were out there.
But if we figure this out, it’ll help me come back.
” It’s what’s been rolling through my mind all day, the only thing keeping me sane right now.
As soon as we figure out who is behind this mess, I’m good to go back to Indy.
I give Lana a smile that feels somehow more forced than before.
“Now, let’s go before I change my mind.” She looks doubtful, but I lean down to press my lips to her gently before moving back to the door. Taking in a deep breath, I open it before guiding her in.
This, too, is both foreign and simultaneously so familiar—the noise, the laughter, the music, the people.
It’s extravagance, meant to be either a celebration for a win or a party to get over the disappointment of a loss.
Sam Trent won today, so it’ll be decidedly more cheerful and lively in the room.
While I’m happy for him and I’m even happier to know Levi did not win—I don’t think I could have handled watching him win from the stands—it was strange being able to tally up the mistakes, the missed opportunities, and what I would have done differently.
It was strange knowing I would have undoubtedly locked in the win.
I wave to a couple of people as we enter, then pull Lana into a corner to steal some peace.
“How do you feel?” she asks.
“Fine,” I lie. “What’s the first step?”
“We have to mingle,” she says, nervously biting her bottom lip. Not because she doesn’t want to, but I think she’s not sure how I’ll handle it.
“Perfect. I’ll take you around to meet everyone. I need a drink first, though. Want to come along, or stay here?”
“I’ll stay here and observe, if you don’t mind. See if anything catches my eye.”
“Of course not,” I say, leaning in and pressing my lips to hers in a soft, gentle kiss.
It feels like all eyes are on us as I do, the long-time, strictly single player with a woman.
I never wanted a girlfriend, not when racing was way more important to me, and I wouldn’t want anything to get in the way of my goals.
But even though I’m not thrilled to be here, I have to admit that showing Lana off is appealing.
“Do you want me to get you a drink?” I ask, my hand resting on her back as she looks around the room.
It’s filled with celebrities, racers, and people with more money than sense.
Most of them are people I spent too much of my life trying to impress, to win over, only for them all to abandon me as soon as I was cut off.
“A drink would be absolutely amazing,” she says. “I need something to do with my hands.” I look at her with a soft smile.
“Okay, be right back,” I say, then turn to head off to the bar. I wave at a few people as I move but go straight to order our drinks.
When I make my way back with a beer for me and a glass of wine for Lana, I hesitate, watching her talk to a reporter I recognize.
Stephanie is often assigned to the Indy circuit, and my steps quicken, worried they’re pestering her about being my new girlfriend.
My steps slow when I catch the conversation they’re having, realizing it’s not about me at all.
“So you’re the only woman in Monster Smash?” Stephanie asks, and Lana nods. “How has that been?” She waits a moment before answering, tipping her head to the side, contemplating the question.
“At first, it was interesting. I had to prove myself a bit more, I think, because everyone had been there a while and, you know, I was driving a giant unicorn truck.” She lets out a small, self-deprecating laugh, lifting a shoulder nonchalantly.
“Do you think the team putting you in the unicorn truck made it harder for them to take you seriously?”
“I think people would have underestimated me regardless of what kind of truck I was in. The unicorn truck definitely made me stick out a bit more, but I kind of like it. I like being underestimated. I like looking like the token girl in the circuit, and then surprising everyone. And it’s been a hit with the fans.
Plus, I think it makes it more accessible to young girls—they’re attracted to it because it’s cute and girly, and in some way, feel a bit more included and welcome.
But then they become interested in the sport, engines, all of that.
It’s an entryway, and it’s telling other girls and women that they can belong here or anywhere we want.
” She continues, talking about the fans she’s met and the stories they’ve shared, and I watch in awe as she lights up with joy.
It twists my gut to see her like this when I know she’s planning to give it all up.
Lana didn’t come here to be in this world forever, but I know to my bones that if she let herself, she would find her home, her purpose.
She fits, both in her personality and her unwillingness to let men be assholes to her, and in the two months she’s been at Monster Smash, she’s grown so much.
It guts me to think that she might just leave it all behind soon.
That thought is a reminder of why we’re here, and I force myself to step toward her. I’m almost there, catching her eyes and getting one of her beautiful smiles as she shifts my way, when a familiar voice calls out my name.
“Rome, my man!” I turn to see David, one of the few drivers I got along with decently from the start. He isn’t one of Levi’s cronies, which helps. Since my suspension, he’s one of the few people who reached out to ask how I was doing.
“Hey, David,” I say with a smile, putting a out a hand for him to shake. He pulls me in for a hug instead, surprising me.
“So fucking good to see you. It’s been too long,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder before pulling back. “Please tell me they stopped this bullshit suspension.” I shake my head regretfully.
“Unfortunately, no. I was nearby for this race, figured I’d come see how much you guys suck without me,” I joke.
“Well, I can’t say we’ve been performing better without you. This season’s rankings make it pretty clear we need you.”
“We suck without you,” Sam agrees, coming over as well. “Plus, I selfishly need you here. Everyone’s too fucking boring. I always had the best nights when you’re out there with us.” I give him my normal, devil-may-care smile. “Though I haven’t seen you out in a while. You still lying low?”
It snaps into place so easily, so quickly, I almost don’t realize it’s happened until the words fall out of my mouth. The way I sink into the familiar role of asshole, the way it feels natural and comfortable, the easiest version of myself to wear.
“Yeah, man. I’m trying to be a good boy, win the board’s trust. Can’t be seen partying it up,” I say, ignoring the fact that my partying days have been nearly non-existent for at least two years. And after the last one led to the worst decision of my life, I can’t see myself going back.
“Well, when you come back, I want to celebrate. Party in Vegas, bottle service, the whole nine,” Sam demands. I tip my beer toward him and give him a friendly grin.
“You know how much I love bottle service.”
“Are we talking about going out with the party boy himself? Thank god. We need you to draw in the pretty ladies. David isn’t pulling his weight,” Noah says, sidling up to our small group.
Noah, another driver, has always played the game of being friends with whoever he thinks will give him access to bigger and better things.
For a while, he was friendly with me, but when I stopped going out as often, he became attached to Levi at the hip.
I’ve never really liked him for that reason, but I can’t help but laugh.
“That’s because his ugly mug can’t pull them as well as I can.
” I realize my mistake when I feel the change beside me, a brush of cold from where Lana is standing.
It’s subtle, and no one around us notices.
She’s still chatting with the reporter, close enough to grab and definitely close enough to hear our conversation.
There’s still a small, polite smile on her lips, but the rest of her screams discomfort. Desperate to fix this, I shake my head.
“But I’m off the market, haven’t you heard? Found my girl. I’m reformed.” I watch as her body relaxes, but barely, and unease churns in my gut. Not noticing a thing, Noah waves a hand as if it doesn’t matter.