Page 19 of Formula Chance

“You’re obviously blind when you look in the mirror,” he chides and then indicates a chair near his. “Got time to hang out?”

“Only for you,” I tease. Or am I flirting?

No, definitely teasing. Carlos has always been like a brother to me.

I sit down beside the handsome driver and take him in. I’ve known him since we were kids. When I say pretty much all these drivers grew up together, it’s the truth. They all raced on the same karting tracks, and I was there beside my dad watching them. We’ve seen each other through pimples and braces, heartbreaks and heartaches.

He nods at me, looking down to the Titans logo on my shirt pocket. “How’s it going?”

“It’s still sinking in. I feel like I’m in a dream.”

Carlos chuckles. “I always knew it was a dream you’d achieve.”

“How could you have known that when I didn’t?”

“You knew it, Bex. Otherwise, you’d have never aimed for that top spot.” He wags his finger at me. “You have that sort of spirit that won’t ever give up if you want something bad enough. Besides, you’re one of the most determined people I know. Definitely have one of the strongest work ethics.”

While that statement should make me feel good, it saddens me because for some strange reason, it makes me think of my failed relationship with Nash.

I shake off those dark sentiments. “Well, I appreciate the compliment. Things looking good for Union Jack?”

Carlos shrugs casually, his smile never fading. “Same old, really. Some good, some bad. But hey, I’m happy to still be here, you know?” His gaze upon me turns softer. “It’s really good to see you.”

His genuine joy floods me with a giddiness that feels like champagne bubbles coursing through my blood. “I couldn’t have done it without a lot of people supporting me,” I admit. “And honestly, it feels a bit surreal to be here.”

Carlos gives me a nod of understanding before his gaze flicks around the paddock. “I have to say, I was surprised to see you and Nash end up on the same team,” he says, the words coming out carefully, as if gauging my response. “Actually… I was surprised to see him back in FI again.”

I shake my head. “Not me. I always knew he’d get back in, but yeah…” My voice drifts off, my fingers plucking at a string on my sleeve. “A shock to be on the same team.”

Carlos’s lip curls up in a half smile. “I’m going to be nosy and ask how that’s going?”

I lift a shoulder, unsure how to even describe my feelings on the matter. When my gaze meets his, I admit, “It’s just weird.”

His head cocks to the side. “How so?”

Carlos knows a bit about our breakup. As we’ve hung out from time to time over the years, he was an easy ear to listen to my frustrations with the demise of my and Nash’s relationship. Carlos was close to Nash as well, and while he never told me anything that Nash might have said to him, I knew he sympathized with us both.

With a sigh, I lean back into the chair. “I don’t know. There was so much anger when we broke up that we just… parted ways and never really said goodbye to each other.” He left our apartment after our fight and then didn’t come back. After a full day and night, I was pissed. I was convinced he’d gone out to party with friends and possibly women. That was more important to him than coming home and trying to convince me to put that ring back on. My stubborn pride had me leaving with only a very short note of farewell.

And Nash never once tried to call or text me. I took that to mean he was glad it was over, and man, did that hurt.

Then it made me angry and bitter toward him, and I’ve never been able to let that go.

“Where did you go, Bex?” Carlos chides, and I blink at him.

He comes into focus, and I feel my cheeks heat. “Sorry… went down memory lane without you, I guess.” I clear my throat, sit straighter in the chair. “Like I said… it’s weird, but we haven’t tried to kill each other yet.”

“And you haven’t seen him since you broke up?”

“Once,” I say, remembering that visit to his hospital room after the crash. I was watching his race on TV and when I saw the flames, I about died a thousand terrifying deaths. “I went to see him in the hospital. The day after the crash.”

Carlos can hear it in my voice. It was not a pleasant experience. “What happened?”

I grimace, remembering how horrible Nash had looked. His face was red with second-degree burns, his hands wrapped because of third-degree burns. He was heavily medicated, given the extent of his injuries. When I first walked in, he stared at me through a fog, but then I could see the moment when he realized who I was. I’ve never seen eyes go so cold before. “He was not happy to see me,” I admit quietly. “Asked me to leave.”

Actually yelled at me, except his voice was raspy and abraded. I didn’t miss the enmity, though. “Get the fuck out, Bex, and don’t come back.”

There was so much venom in his words, I felt like I’d been slapped. I took a step backward, unsure of what to do. His manager, Greg Persons, happened to walk into the room at that moment. Because he can handle any situation, he took me by the arm and gently steered me out.

---