I shouldn’t be feeling this way, where my chest tightens and I have to consciously draw a slower breath now that she’s here.
The traitorous part of my brain conjures an image of matching my stride to hers in the early morning quiet, just the two of us and the open road.No agenda.No feature.No Blane.
She gifts me a lopsided smile, and somehow it lands deeper and harder than a full grin.
Before I can say a word, Blane snaps his fingers.“I had an idea last night.Two, actually, but the first one’s gold.”
He slides his empty coffee cup to the edge of the table with the casual expectation of someone who’s never had to refill his own.
“Grace wants action shots.Our editor will demand it.The good stuff, authentic, high-energy.”He leans forward.“So, hear me out.The racetrack.There’s one around here you used to use, right?”
Grace drops into a chair.“Yes.”
He leans forward, animated, gaze landing on me.“We get Coach here behind the wheel.A few laps, maybe some drills.Capture that spark.”
Grace turns to me, eyes bright with something close to excitement.“Would you?”
That look—hopeful, unguarded—hits somewhere I’m not prepared for, and it takes everything in me to shut this down.
“I don’t really race anymore.”I casually scratch at my eyebrow, not able to fully look at her as I turn her down.
Blane’s snort cuts through the kitchen.“Come on.Once a driver, always a driver.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Isn’t it?Because I pulled your old footage last night.You were something else out there.Fans loved you, sponsors loved you.”He leans back, comfortable in his smugness, and pauses for a beat, deliberate and pointed.“Funny thing, though, Grace’s notes stop right where things get interesting.About a year ago, you retired at twenty-seven, came home.No explanation.That kind of gap doesn’t write itself.”
The words needle my growing irritation.
Behind me, Mom quiets in the way she does when she has opinions she’s decided to keep to herself.For now.
I look at Grace, and her gaze flashes with annoyance aimed at Blane.
How much does she share with him?Am I not supposed to know that?
Notes were one thing—that’s the job, and though I didn’t like it, I understood.But this feels like something else, like I’ve been discussed, dissected, handed over in pieces I didn’t agree to give.
My nostrils flare, and my chest tightens, hot and uncomfortable.I’m too old for this and know all too well about what it costs to let someone close, too familiar with the wreckage it leaves behind.After Erica, I set a simple rule—anything that even smells like attachment, walk away.
Yet here I am, crossing lines with a particular blonde journalist lodged somewhere deep under my skin that I’m not sure I know how to reach.
And maybe Blane still has a claim on her.Maybe whatever was between them isn’t as finished as she made it sound.
She straightens, setting down her coffee cup with a quiet click.“What are you talking about?That’s the second time you’ve talked about reading my notes or materials, and I’ve never shown anything to you.”
Something alert and near hopeful skitters down my spine.What did this asshole do now?
He grimaces.“You, uh… you still had me on your shared drive.From the Mensah piece.”His expression turns sheepish.“I may have had a look.”
The silence that follows is pointed, and Grace’s expression does the work of telling him exactly how long that access will last.
He lifts both hands, clearly uncomfortable with her glare as well as mine.
“I’m just saying, the article needs depth, the footage needs punch.And what better punch than a former Formula One driver back on his old track?”
She stabs him a look that would have a better man flayed on the spot before she shifts her now more neutral gaze to me.“Maddox, is it even open today?”
It isn’t, but it can be since I own the place.When I heard they were going to tear down the track and build houses on the land, I couldn’t let that happen.The speedway holds a lot of good memories—amazing times with my father—and it’s my place, where I go to breathe.But I also wanted it kept open for the kids, for the schools in the area to hold events, for the community.