Chapter Eighteen
Revel
Race mornings usually fix whatever the fuck is wrong with my head.
By the time I’m suited up and the paddock is alive around me, everything narrows down to things that make sense—tire temperature, braking points, track conditions, the weight of the bike beneath me, who’s starting where and how much room I can steal before somebody decides they want it back.
It’s clean. Simple. Fast enough that there isn’t space for anything else.
Usually.
Today, Cece is standing in our paddock wearing a Demons pass around her neck, and apparently even race day isn’t enough to get that woman out of my fucking head.
She’s leaning against one of the workbenches while Echo finishes checking something near my bike, black shorts showing off those legs I’ve spent an unhealthy amount of time thinking about, hair pulled into a high ponytail and the worlds tightest fucking jeans.
She looks comfortable here now, talking to Bex like she’s been hanging around race paddocks her whole life instead of pretending a few weeks ago that she only tolerated us because the girls kept inviting her.
I catch myself staring.
Again and unsurprisingly, Talon notices.
“So,” he says from the folding chair beside me, dragging the word out while I tighten the cuff of my undersuit. “Miami.”
I don’t even bother looking at him. “Beautiful city. Highly recommend.”
Across from us, Thorne snorts into whatever protein bullshit he’s drinking. “That all you’ve got, bruv?”
“What do you want, a fuckin’ TripAdvisor review?”
Talon leans back against the workbench, grin already there. “Nah. Think we’re more interested in the accommodations.”
“Bed was decent.”
Sayshen cracks up behind me. “Decent?”
I finally look up and all three of them are staring at me like they’ve been waiting all morning to be annoying.
Nosy fuckers.
I shake my head. “If you guys are this invested in where I slept, start a group subscription or somethin’.”
Talon laughs. “Bro, you vanished with the one girl who’s had you workin’ overtime since day one, got stuck in Miami with her for what, nearly a week? Then you roll back into Tampa cheesin’ like you just won a championship.”
“I always look this good.”
“That wasn’t the accusation,” Sayshen says. “But she is over there wearing a VIP pass and one of your old training shirts, so…”
Thorne lifts his drink toward Cece. “And, apparently, man’s buyin’ jewelry now. Heard you got her a necklace, loverboy.”
My eyes go to her before I can help it.
The little gold waveform is sitting right beside her locket.
Still wearing it.
Fuck, that does something stupid to me.
I drag my gaze back to Thorne and let a lazy grin pull across my face. “You been sitting around with the girls gossipin’ about my girl and her jewelry, mate? What’s next, cucumber sandwiches and a little fuckin’ tea party?”
That lands exactly how I wanted.
Talon’s brows shoot up.
Sayshen makes this loud, offended noise and starts laughing harder.
Thorne lowers his drink nice and slow. “Your girl?”
I shrug like I didn’t just drop a grenade in the middle of the garage. “That’s what I said.”
Sayshen points at me. “Oh, he’s gone. Fully gone.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Talon’s grinning now too. “Nah, man. You said that way too easy.”
I glance back toward Cece.
“Probably because it is.”
Across the paddock, Cece looks over like she can sense her business being discussed from thirty feet away.
I smile at her and she narrows her eyes.
Yep. That’s definitely my girl.
Whether she’s ready to put that on a fucking T-shirt yet is another problem entirely.
Echo saves me from further interrogation by throwing a shop rag straight at Sayshen’s chest.
“Can you idiots gossip after the race?”
Sayshen catches it. “Easy for you to say. You already know everything.”
Echo’s smile turns suspicious.
My head snaps toward her. “Everything?”
“Relax.”
“That is never a reassuring thing to hear from you.”
Cece’s eyes narrow at Echo now.
Interesting.
Before either woman can betray me, Andre walks into the middle of the paddock carrying his tablet and the expression of a man who regrets every life choice that led him to managing professional racers with the emotional maturity of unsupervised teenagers.
“Enough.”
Thorne gestures toward me. “Important team business.”
“You can conduct it from the grandstand if you don’t shut the fuck up.”
That mostly works.
The paddock settles into something closer to professional while Andre starts running through the schedule. Around us, mechanics finish the last checks, tire warmers still wrapped around the bikes while generators hum beneath the constant clatter of tools and voices.
Engines bark to life farther down pit lane, sharp enough to cut through everything else, and the air smells like fuel, hot rubber and the coffee somebody left sitting too close to a toolbox.
I missed this.
The noise. The routine. The way race day feels like the whole world has been boiled down to a strip of asphalt and whoever is willing to push hardest across it.
Still, part of me misses waking up in that shitty Miami motel with Cece already sitting at the desk in my shirt, pretending she wasn’t going to steal half my breakfast later.
That realization is probably more dangerous than anything I’m doing on the track today.
“Revel.”
I look up.
Andre is staring directly at me.
“Sorry, Coach.”
The entire group goes silent for half a second.
Thorne actually turns his head.
“Did this prick just apologize?”
“Fuck off.”
Andre pinches the bridge of his nose. “Track’s hotter today and grip through the back section isn’t where it was yesterday. Use your heads. I don’t want anybody manufacturing passes that don’t fucking exist this time.”
His eyes settle on me.
I grin. “Feels targeted.”
“That’s because it is.”
“I’ll have you know I’ve been responsible lately.”
Echo pauses halfway through pulling the zipper up on her leathers and looks over at me, one brow climbing slowly.
“Responsible?” she repeats, like the word personally offended her. “Didn’t you convince Cece to jump out of a fucking plane while you two were in Miami?”
Talon lets out a sharp laugh from beside the bikes.
Sayshen points at me. “Oh, shit. Yeah. Forgot about that.”
“I didn’t convince her,” I say. “She agreed.”
Echo gives me a dead stare while tugging one glove tighter around her wrist. “Right. Because you’re known for calmly presenting safe, reasonable options.”
Thorne snorts into his drink. “Man probably went, ‘Go on then, Mama, jump out the fuckin’ plane with me,’ flashed that stupid grin of his, and kept at her till she finally caved.”
“Worked, didn’t it?”
That gets a few laughs.
Echo shakes her head and bends to adjust the cuff of her boot, but when she straightens again, there’s this look on her face like she’s been holding onto something way better.
“And don’t even get me started on what happened between the jump and you two actually landing.”
The garage goes quiet for half a second.
Then Sayshen nearly chokes.
Talon’s head snaps toward me. “Wait, what happened?”
Thorne lowers his drink, eyes narrowing with immediate interest. “Oi. Now we’re gettin’ somewhere.”
I drag a hand over my mouth, already knowing exactly what Echo’s about to do.
“Echo.”
Her grin turns feral.
“Oh, now he wants privacy.”
A few of the guys laugh, but Andre cuts through it before Echo can make my life any worse, moving on to Thorne and finishing the rest of his notes.
Thank fuck.
This time, I actually listen.
Mostly.
By the time Andre wraps up, the whole paddock shifts with him. The bullshit dies down, tire pressures get checked one last time, gloves get pulled on, helmets come off the shelves. Everyone settles into that quieter, locked-in version of themselves that always shows up right before we race.
I grab my gloves from the bench and start tugging the first one on.
“Revel.”
Cece’s voice cuts through everything else.
I turn toward her.
She’s standing a few feet away with her arms folded across her chest, and the second I look at her properly, the grin starts slipping off my face.
This isn’t her usual don’t be a dumbass look.
She’s actually worried.
I try anyway. “You here to tell me how pretty I look in leather?”
“No.”
“Damn. Kinda thought that was coming.”
She walks closer, but there’s no real bite behind her expression. Her eyes flick toward the bike, then back to me, lingering there a little too long.
“Don’t do anything stupid out there.”
I let out a small laugh. “That narrows it down.”
“Revel.”
That’s what gets me. Theres no sarcasm or Spanish insult.
Just my name. Said soft enough that something in my chest pulls tight.
I stop fucking around.
She comes to a stop in front of me, arms unfolding as she looks up.
“I know you know what you’re doing. I know you’ve done this a million times. I know all of that.” She swallows. “I just…don’t want to stand here and watch something happen to you.”
Fuck.
The paddock noise seems to drop away around us.
I lift a hand and cup her jaw, thumb brushing slowly over her cheek while I hold her eyes.
“Hey.”
She exhales through her nose, trying to hold herself together like she’s annoyed she even let me see this much.
“I’m coming back.”
Her eyes tighten slightly.
I lean closer. “I mean it, Mama. I’ll be right back here when this is over.”
She looks at me like she wants to believe that and hates how badly she needs to.
So I give her more.
“I’m not going anywhere.” My thumb moves under her cheekbone. “Not today. Not after this race. Not even when shit gets hard. I’m always going to be here.”
Her lips part.
I keep my forehead close to hers.
“You’ve got me, Cece. I’m not leaving you.”
That does it.
Her hand fists into the front of my suit and she pulls me down.
The kiss hits hard.
Not playful and teasing. Nothing like the quick shit we usually steal when everyone’s around.
Right now, she’s kissing me like she’s scared, and I kiss her back like I can fix that.