I start to kiss him with everything I have. Racer soon takes my kiss and makes it hotter, wilder, longer.

He jams his hands deeper into my hair, and my fingers slide around his shoulders to clutch the back of his neck. I feel his body start buzzing again, that relentless unyielding unbending force inside of Racer Tate coming back up.

He rolls me to my back, spreads me down on the bed and kisses my mouth as if he wants to fuck my body in the same way his tongue fucks my own, and I sense the way his strength and hunger keep returning, as if his fire is slowly blazing strong again. A fire that promises to soon be back to the Racer Tate inferno.

Lana

“Hey. Crasher.” I feel someone brush my hair back in such a delicious way that I smile in my sleep and shift in the bed. Damn. This bed is really uncomfortable. Where am I … mmm, it smells nice around here. It smells like Racer’s smell under my pillow. “Let’s go,” I hear the sexy male voice speak again.

“Whaaa—” I shake my head and start to come fully awake as I glance around the hospital room—then spot him at the side of the bed.

“Let’s go. We’ve got qualifying.”

“No!” I gasp. “You’re more important—”

“This is important to me. To us. Let’s go.”

I blink, and staring back at me fully dressed and shaved is …

Racer.

Racer Tate.

Not Racer 2.0, not Racer 3.0, not Racer—1. Just. Racer.

MY Racer.

Blue eyes sharp and clear, energy once again buzzing and buzzing around me.

I think my knees may, or may not, work as he helps me up to my feet. I stop by his hospital bathroom to clean up before exiting to see him winking goodbye to a middle-aged nurse as she mentions a follow-up call with his doctor from St. Pete as she hands him copies of his discharge papers and his prescription.

He stashes them in his back pocket and I follow him outside to say goodbye to his dad.

He slaps his dad’s hand. “Thanks for coming,” Racer tells his dad as they shake hands, and as they do, Racer drops his voice. “Dad, I’m—”

“Don’t.” His dad stops him. “I get it. You don’t owe me anything.”

Their gazes hold for a second—near identical, both men so similar I’m almost dizzy by the resemblance. “Thanks for coming,” Racer finally says, sounding humbled and grateful.

His dad pulls him into his embrace. “I love you,” he says. “Be well.”

“I love you too. Be well, Dad.”

I’m lingering back, giving them their moment, before I feel Racer reach behind him to seize my hand and draw me up to his side so I can say goodbye to his dad too. His dad is heading back to Seattle, and he promises to meet us in the U.S. for the U.S. leg of the Grand Prix tour soon.

I climb into Racer’s car, and he turns on the motor and drives out of the parking lot, setting his hand on my thigh as we head back to the hotel for his gear. I exhale, close my eyes, the wind in my hair at dawn, squeezing his hand and rubbing my thumbs along his hard palm, caressing him. I open my eyes and he’s drinking me in like a starved man.

“Thank you …” His voice is raspy with emotion. “For being here,” he specifies the last.

“I’ll always be here,” I whisper.

The sudden unexpected sight of his naughty, sexy-as-sin dimple makes my knees weak, and when he turns on the music, I feel like the happiest woman on the planet.

“Think they’ll be okay with me coming back? Your family.” He runs his eyes questioningly over me, a familiar gleam of determination sparking up in his eyes.

I smile hopefully. “We’ll find out soon.”

“I’m not sure how fast I can be, crasher, the meds slow me down.” He shifts gears, clenching his jaw as he stares out at the road. “That’s why I wasn’t taking my pills in the first place.”

“I’m sure the best driver in the world could figure it out, and last I heard, you were running for the title,” I encourage.

And he grins, his whole face lighting up, as if my words just lit a fire in his hungry, driven, sexy soul and he just wants to prove to me that he’s definitely got that in him and more.

I text my family and tell them that we’re on our way, and I ask them for a meeting when we arrive on the track.

I’m relieved to see they didn’t bring in any drivers.

I know that’s not what they wanted.

I know that the driver they want—the driver they need, the only driver for us—

is walking right next to me.

I walk in with his hand in mine, and I don’t pry it free.

“Where the fuck were you two?!” Drake rants. “I’m going to fucking kill you, you irresponsible motherfuck—”

“He was at the hospital,” I cut in. “Now you three jerks are going to sit down and just listen to me for a second.”

My brothers glare at me.

“Now!” I yell, planting my hands on my hips.

I see they’re not happy about it, and they don’t sit, but they calm down.

“I know that you guys have always been concerned about Racer’s reckless reputation and were afraid that he would one day leave us for a better team. I know that you’ve been concerned that him and I … well, that’s none of your concern now, because we’re dating. And Dad is okay with that, so you three bozos have nothing to say about that. As for the other … Look. We’ve done things this year that we never even dreamed we would ever do. We’re all in this together. Are we in agreement?”