Page 52 of Revved up & Ready

“Practice makes me a better racer—a safer racer.”

“Dammit, I guess I like that too,” she says, pointing toward the house. “But are yousureyou don’t want to stay home and hang out with me all day instead?”

“I wish,” I sigh. It’s doubtful she realizes that’s the most tempting offer I could have gotten. If it weren’t for the rainstorm, I’d have said yes in a heartbeat. Leaving her is hard, but I can’t let this chance slip away.

Just as I’d hoped, the rain has turned into a heavy downpour by the time I make it to the track. A rare and needed opportunity.

“What’s up, dickhead?” Ludlow greets, coming over to help unload my trailer.

“Just looking forward to racing circles around you, asshole,” I laugh, pulling him into a loose hug and patting him on the back.

“You two are so weird,” Hart mutters from under the canopy.

“You know you’re going to get wet, right?” Ludlow smirks.

She runs a hand over her still-dry hair. “Not yet, I don’t.”

Under the canopy, I check my phone before slipping into my leathers. There’s a message from myIncite Energyrep.

Ian: Can’t make it today after all. But keep it up! You’re right on track.

I don’t dwell on his absence because I get a text from Sadie that shifts my focus.

Sadie: Rubber side down, Hacker! Stay on your bike.

“Your pretty pink-haired girlfriend got you smiling like that?” Hart asks.

“You know it.” I’m grinning hard at my phone.

Me: I’ll come home in one piece. And a better racer. Promise.

Luke always says working on motors is his meditation, and racing has always been mine. It doesn’t matter what’s going on in my life—the second my tires hit the track, my mind settles.I’ve never felt more at peace or more alive than I do on a bike.

This year, I’m racing the BMW 1000RR—an absolute beast of a machine. It’s our first time in the rain together, and I start off even easier than I usually would on a wet day. This may be myonly chance to find my edge on this bike in these conditions, so I’m dialing in.

I find my groove, leaning into each turn, pushing my speed a little more with every lap.

Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast.

I’ve hit the bike’s limit for these conditions on about half of the turns, but I want to see—

Ludlow low-sides off the track, but he’s fine—already standing by the time I’ve pulled over to help.

I didn’t tell Sadie it’s more common than usual to crash in the rain. She was already so fragile, and I didn’t want to scare her further. It didn’t seem like she could’ve handled the explanation that a low-side—when the bike slides out from under you—is usually a very recoverable crash. She’s imagining a rarer high-side—when you get flung over the handlebars, like the time I broke my femur—or, worse, an even rarer collision, like what she experienced.

Ludlow’s back on the track in no time, and I follow him out to finish my laps. Once my trailer’s loaded and I’m changed into dry clothes, I text Sadie.

Me: Safe! See you soon, sunshine.

Sadie: Yay!

A picture comes through next—Sadie’s purple-tipped fingers petting Boo between his jade-colored eyes.

Sadie: He let me pet him!

Me: He loves you.

Sadie: He might.

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