"I turned it down."
That made me look at her—really look.
She didn't meet my eyes. Just kept staring at a crack in the floor tile like the truth might crawl out of it if she focused hard enough.
"I'm done, Colt," she added, barely above a whisper. "I've decided to quit. Walk away from the circuit. For good."
The words hung between us, heavier than they looked.
"That's… big," I said finally. "You sure?"
She gave a faint nod, her lips pressing into something that wasn't quite a smile. "It means I can stay close. No more hoping my mother will get better while I'm off chasing races. I need to be with her."
Still, she wouldn't look at me. And something in her voice—it didn't sit right. Not completely.
I reached out and let my fingers brush over hers.
And just like that, I felt it again.
That little twist in my gut.
The one that told me there was more coming.
And that whatever she was trying to bury—wasn't going to stay buried long.
I didn't speak right away. Just watched her. Took in every small tell.
The way she pressed her palms flat against her thighs. The way her knee bounced, like her body hadn't gotten the memo that she was "done" chasing speed. The way her eyes kept dodging mine.
"You said you're quitting," I said, keeping my voice low. "But you didn't say it like you meant it."
Her eyes flicked to me, then away just as fast.
"I meant it," she said.
"No," I murmured. "You practiced it."
That earned a soft puff of breath—more sigh than laugh. But it wasn't amusement I saw in her. It was something closer to guilt. Or maybe grief.
"Tessa," I said, her name like an anchor. To keep her here. Not drifting into that space where she shut everyone out.
She straightened, defensive now. "Colt?—"
"You love the track," I said, cutting gently across whatever excuse she had loaded up. "Always have. You live for the rush. The speed. Winning one heat at a time. Hell, you left me for it."
That hit. She flinched—just barely—but I caught it.
Her gaze dropped again as she started messing with the cuff of her jacket. "It's not that simple."
"Didn't say it was. Doesn't make it untrue."
Her hands stilled. "Some races… cost too much."
That landed deep. I felt it in my ribs like a bruise I hadn't noticed until someone pressed on it.
I could've let that be the end. Could've nodded and moved on.
But if we were ever going to be real again, I had to press just a little harder.