Page 52 of Octane

The look of surprise on Bethany's face at Jackson’s willingness to reschedule his entire day just for me doesn’t go unnoticed.

“You really don’t have to reschedule your day. I shouldn’t have come.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m glad you’re here. Come on, let’s go talk in my office.”

He places a hand on the small of my back and his touch devastates me. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it.

“Have a seat anywhere,” he says when we enter his office.

He closes the door behind us as I sit on the sofa, in the same spot I sat in last week.

Was it really only a week ago?

After he sets his bag down, he takes a seat next to me on the sofa. Being so close to him almost makes me forget why I came.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” Jackson’s look of concern is touching.

“You tell me,” I laugh dryly.

“I don’t understand.”

I take a deep breath.

You can do it. Tell him quickly, like pulling off a Band-Aid.

“Jackson, I’m quitting the team. I don’t belong here. I’m no good, and I’m not worth all the trouble.”

He closes his eyes, and I can tell he’s getting tired of me saying this.

“Sawyer, when are you going to realize your talent? When are you going to see that you’re a rookie driver who went from an independent league straight to a cup series team?” I hate that he looks so disappointed in me. Like he can’t understand why I still feel this way about my driving.

“I don’t know what it was that made you want to sign me. I know you were trying to form a minor league team. But at this point, I don’t think I’m even good enough for that league. My sponsors are going to drop me. They won’t want to be affiliated with a loser.”

“Sawyer.” Jackson grabs my shoulders and turns me so we’re face to face. “Look at me. Right here,” he points two fingers at his own eyes. “First, your sponsors aren’t going to drop you. They don’t drop people after one bad race.”

“So you admit it was a bad race.”

I know that’s not what he meant, and I feel horrible for saying it. I tried to stop it from coming out, but my self-deprecation was too strong to fight.

“Don’t do that. Do not put words in my mouth.”

Now I feel even worse.

“Okay, if they won’t drop me because of one bad race, then they will when Warren Kramer calls them.”

“What are you talking about?” The skin between his eyes crinkles in confusion.

“I overheard Daniel on the phone with his father last night. Kramer Enterprises represents a lot of my sponsors. He’s going to call them and suggest they drop me.”

“I doubt they would drop you just because Warren Kramer asks them to, butifthey do, there are a thousand other sponsors out there who will be ready to take their place. Including Powell Racing Corp and all of its subsidiaries.”

The goofy grin on his face makes me smile. I shake my head and roll my eyes playfully.

“You have to stop all this self-doubt,” Jackson cups my cheek in his strong, warm hand. “Daniel has been feeding you bullshit for far too long. You need to get it through that beautiful head of yours that you’re worth it. You’re incredible. You’re too important to the team, and you’re too important to m—,” Jackson swallows before continuing, “too important to lose.”

Either from his near confession slip-up, his scent in my nose, or from being in such close proximity to him again, my body moves closer to him. With a deep breath, I look into his eyes.

Tell me I was wrong, that I didn’t almost hear what I thought I heard.

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