Page 47 of Crash Course Omega
I wave to the photographer right next to the line, even though my disappointment clenches my heart. I used to be so much better than that. But I have to remember to cut myself some slack. I’m not the old me that only saw my mistakes.
“That was still my fastest lap though, yeah?” I ask him.
“By a mile,” he says. “You got that in at 1.47. You still shaved a few seconds, and you know how amazing that is. Especially with Jaxx still trailing behind you.”
“I’m heading off for one more lap. I’ll be there soon.”
“You don’t have the fuel or battery for that kind of speed again, so keep yourself in check. I don’t want to have to send out the crane to pick you up halfway around the circuit.”
“You’re so mean.”
“And you’re still a little brat. Just keep yourself in line.”
“Fine. I’m still going to give the reporters something to write about.”
“Yeah, whatever. Keep acting like you've just run a perfect lap.”
I can’t stick my tongue out at him, but it’s probably better I shut up so he doesn’t nag me anymore.
“Okay, Jaxx is coming into the pits. Follow him when you come around again.”
“On it,” I say, still putting my foot down even though he told me no.
I ease myself around the first corner and keep up the race. Though I’m just trying to beat my time, it’s being out on the track by myself that matters the most.
The guys are still talking in my ear, but I can let all that fade away as I push hard and let the air flow over me.
When I really let go, when I let myself sink into a role in front of the camera or into the seat as I steer, I glide along. All I needis the car and the track, and the sound of my heartbeat as the engine pitches higher with every gear change.
My ass is numb from the vibrations, and my cheeks ache from grinning so much.
I want to feel like this all the time.
I sigh as I race down the bumps in the track, sinking into the feeling of freedom.
My brother is right, even if he doesn’t say out loud that he’s trying to get me back into racing. And this is a good way to go about it.
Clenching my teeth, I slam my foot down, going for it with everything I have. I brake too hard on the corners, scream down the straight, and yell out as I soar toward the pits with 1% of battery to spare.
“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Jacob says in my ear, but I just laugh as I slow into the pit lane and drive toward the team.
“Are they doing a change?” I ask.
“No, just stop. We’ll take it from there.”
But the main problem is that Maddock, Jaxx, and Everest all stand there, waiting for me.
I’m already heavy with slick, Everest has smelled how much I’d perfumed, and there are other alphas out there who will scent me as well.
“Jacob?” I say quietly as I slow the car. “Could you ask my bodyguards to come?”
“What's wrong? What happened?” Panic suddenly shoots through his voice.
“I need their help. Tell them to get my bag. They'll know what I mean.”
I try to calm myself down, but it’s too much. With Maddock glaring, Jaxx grinning, and Everest looking at me like he needs me as much as I want him, it makes me want to leap into their arms and let them carry me away.
But I have to escape. They’re definitely going to scent my perfume, but I can’t just say I was excited from the drive, because my slick tells a different story. If they really are my scent matches, it might send them into a rut in front of other people. Though I sort of want to see that as well.
