Page 92 of Revved up & Ready

She narrows her eyes. “You weren’t scared at all?”

“I was scared for you.”

She digs her teeth into her bottom lip, eyes narrowing even further. “Why would you be scared for me? I wasn’t onfire.”

“Because of this,” I say, rubbing the back of my hand along her soft cheek—cold and wet from the tears I caused. “I knew you would hate it. I don’t know how to make it better for you. I wish I did.Fuck, I wish so much I could take all your anxiety away.”

She watches me for a long time, taking those deliberate, counted breaths. When I match them this time, her lips pull into a weak smile.

“I like it when you do that. If we’re breathing together, I can feel that you’re alive.”

“Of course, I’m alive,” I say with a low chuckle.

Her usually soft face hardens into severe lines as her voice rises loud enough I’m sure we’re not the only ones who hear her next words.

“It’s not anof course, though, Cam. It’s not a given.Thatis the risk. That’s it. You coulddie.”

She’s been careful not to say crash around me since the first time we talked about it—always whispering if she ever had to say the word. But now all bets are off, and it’s a punch to the gut that I deserve.

“I could.” It’s the first time I’ve allowed myself to voice anything like that to her, and her mouth drops open in shock.

“And you’d just be okay with that?” she asks.

Itdoeshappen. I’ve known of a couple of guys who haven’t survived crashes. It’s a heartbreaking tragedy—an extremely rare, but possible outcome for any racer. It’s a possibility I came to terms with a long time ago—long before I knew Sadie.

“No, I wouldn’t beokaywith it. I don’t want to die this way. I have no intention of dying this way. That is how Ilive.” I say, pointing at the track where the racers are gridding up again.

“Shouldn’t you be out there?” she asks, caught between confusion, concern, and anxiety.

If I’m not out there, I won’t get any points for this race. Ludlow will likely win, which means I’ll be down fifteen pointsfor the season. With only two races left, I’ll have to win both, and he’ll have to place lower than second on one if I want the championship. Ian is pacing where Luke has him blocked away from us. Even if I finish second for the season—when they said I only had to make top three—I’m showing everyone, includingIncite Energy, that racingisn’talways my top priority by staying in my pit and not finishing this race.

I may lose my spot on their team.

“No,” I say, resting my forehead against hers before pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. “I should be right here.”

She huffs a frustrated sigh. “You make it so damn hard not to fall in love with you.”

Fall in love with me?

“I keep telling myself I cannot fall for you. I can’t let myself love you because it would hurt too much. If I love you, then this,” she gestures frantically at her heart, “is how I always have to feel. But I already feel like that all the time, so…” she lets her words trail off.

“That’s not what I want it to feel like for you,” I say, running my thumb along the pink edge of her hair. “You deserve so much more than that.”

The engines on the grid start up—my friends, colleagues, and competition ready to launch and finish this race. It’s been a long time since I was sitting in the pits for a green flag, and my soul longs to be out there. But more than being on the track, my soul longs to be right here with her.

“Do you want me to stop racing?” I ask, my heart thudding as the bikes on the track take off without me.

“What the fuck?” she asks, a bewildered whisper.

“I’ll do it. That can be my last race if you want.” My heart breaks at the suggestion, but I mean every word.

Her head tilts with skepticism. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” I say, the words landing solemnly between us. I know we’re still being watched, but this part of the conversation is only for her and me. “You are the only thing that matters more than racing. So yes, if that’s what you want, I’ll quit.” I swallow thickly. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” her response is immediate, but her lips curl in distaste as she says the word. “No—I don’t know.” She sighs, resting her head heavily on my shoulder. “I want you to race, and also never be in danger. Is that so much to ask?”

A low chuckle fills my chest. “Unfortunately, yes.”

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