With Elizabeth's secret safe with me, I headed back downstairs to the party with Griffin.

There were certain rules to any rivalry, and she was absolutely right that I was the only person who would even come close to understanding. And even though she was a stupid bitch who didn't deserve to be handed my spot for nothing, it would be a major rule infraction to tell Griffin that her career very well could be fucked.

It was dumb to think that there could be only one woman driver in NASCAR, but a lot of people seemed to buy into that. And whether Elizabeth chose to put her career on hold or not go through with the pregnancy, I sure seemed like a less shitty option now.

But that was only if other people knew.

I bit my lip. What the hell was she trying to gain by telling me? Support? An easy choice? A brand new way to drive myself crazy?

I told her that I wanted to race her again to finally prove I was better, but maybe I just wanted my old spot back—not with RTR, of course, but my spot where I was just another racer. I wasn't well-liked in the garage, but I didn't need to be. All I needed was one more chance.

Truscott spoiled himself with Griffin, who had natural talent beyond belief and usually got all the lucky breaks. He didn't want a two-car team. He wanted to pour all the investments he could into one car and hope for the best with the other.

But before I could get all worked up about Truscott's stupid ass again, Griffin handed me an M&M cookie.

"How's Penny?" he asked.

"She's definitely not too thrilled with the noise. She's hiding under the bed and won't come out," I said.

He smiled. "Yeah, she doesn't like anything that's louder than her."

"Then how the hell does she like both of us?"

He shrugged. "We give off a cool vibe, I guess. I think that's why you're the former most popular driver."

I smiled. "Well, it'll be current very soon. Whatever it takes, really. I still have a lot of people to prove wrong. A lot of times it feels like you're one of the few who believe in me."

"How could I not? You've always been a fighter, and I'd have to be stupid to think you'd ever quit."

I took a bite from the cookie and smiled again. "You're so goddamn sweet to me. I'm glad I finally let this happen, you and me. And I really don't think you'll ever understand what you mean to me."

With the music so loud, there was no chance anyone would hear, but even if they did, I didn't give a shit.

"I won't ever understand?" Griffin said.

I shook my head. "I don't have anyone but you, but you have a billion options and you still pick me. I don't know why, but you do. And that's why you won't ever get it."

He hesitated. "That's how you feel?"

"Well, yeah. My racing team isn't mine anymore, my parents are dead, and the rest of my family is dead to me because they don't understand I'll never get over what happened to them. And you never had to show up at the hospital to visit me and my broken neck when we didn't even know each other. And you're honest with me no matter what, and you understand I'm trying my best, and you stick with me."

This time, he didn't even bother responding with words. He pulled me close to his body, his toned body that was decorated with tattoos that looked cool and meant something to him, and kissed me.

For a moment, the entire party died down and it was just him and me. And even though it felt like that most of the time, I liked it a hell of a lot better when we were touching.

"I hope you don't care that I did that. There's a lot of people here," he said as he pulled away from me.

I shook my head. "I don't give a shit if people know. I just care if everyone knows. That's a lot of pressure, and I really like where we are right now."

"I do too." He kissed the side of my head. "But how much pressure can it be? This feels natural to me."

And it did to me too, much better than having to force any sort of affection out of Drake.

"And that's a good sign. It never felt natural with me and Tyler, and now we don't give a shit if we hurt each other on the way to a win. But there's this pressure to be goals or whatever when there's anything official and in the spotlight, and it takes a toll on a relationship," I said.

In high school, it felt like the whole school was judging and would know about any breakup that happened. But with someone like Tyler or Griffin, that pressure extended across the whole country. And any relationship or attempt at one I ever had was a messy disaster. Why the fuck wouldn't there be pressure on this?

"And you're worried about it? Kate, your entire life is pressure, and you're doing just fine," he said.

"But this isn't something that can be just fine. I want it to be us. There's no pressure when it's just you and me."

He nodded. "I get it. I just kinda want everyone to know I've got the most beautiful woman in the world."

I smiled. "And don't you forget that."

"Didn't you just tell me you weren't fucking Gallagher?" Tyler asked from behind me.

I stuck my middle finger up behind my back and kissed Griffin.

I wasn't the most beautiful woman in the world, but I was the only me. And if he was the only one who ever saw something there, that was fine with me. More than fine, really. Perfect.

"Did I ever tell you I missed getting drunk with you?" I mumbled just loud enough for only him to hear.

"I mean, it's our party, so I don't know why we aren't right now." He chuckled quietly.

"I don't want to remember a goddamn thing from this point on. I feel like I'm remembering too many of my bad decisions these days."

He laughed. "How many bad decisions have you made lately? Be honest."

I shrugged. "I'm not quite sure yet. There's still plenty of time for a decent one to go bad, don't you think?"

There were several that came to mind right away: keeping my mouth shut about Elizabeth, forgetting about Drake and Josiah and their tournament, and putting a hell of a lot of faith in Griffin and me.

***

When I woke up the next morning (or early afternoon, if I had to be technical), all I had was a headache, upset stomach, and absolutely no recollection was what the hell happened after Griffin and I took one of the too many shots of whatever we could get our hands on.

Just like I wanted. Perfect.

Griffin was gone, probably to the RTR headquarters to check on his team and car. Truscott always let him get away with micromanaging, but winning came with privileges, so what could I even say about it?

As I got out of bed, I kicked something, and although the letters blurred together, I knew what it was. If you need this, you've had too much. It was my special puke bucket that Griffin got for me a couple years ago, but the joke was on him. I could barely read sober.

After a shower and piece of toast that I'd hopefully keep down, I took the first glimpse at my phone since the night before, and one notification from Instagram stuck out from the rest, a DM from someone I had previously chatted with.

Daniel Henderson? What the hell did he want now?

He was still supposed to be in Canada, but with the Toronto Blue Jays' season over, what else did he have to do besides bother me on behalf of his uncle?

I opened the DM anyway. Whatever it said wouldn't kill me.

A hangover and dyslexia weren't about to make it easy, but with one eye shut and every brain cell I had working together, I pieced together the message: Miss Moore, I hope you're doing well wherever you are. Didn't you say you were going back to Louisiana?

How the fuck was I supposed to remember what I told him when I ran into him right before I left Canada? And didn't I tell him not to call me Miss Moore?

Due to some medical issues, Miss Tonkin will be unable to race this weekend at Kansas. And although my uncle deleted your number, he would like to discuss that with you. Is there any way you would be willing to stop by the RTR HQ tomorrow (Wednesday)?

Discuss? With me?

My eyes widened.

Truscott wanted me to drive the ninety-five, didn't he?

I figured that whatever happened with Elizabeth would at least somewhat help me get back into a car with Moretti, but with Truscott? Even if it was just for a race, how the hell was I supposed to stomach it after all the bullshit he put me through?

It would make me the biggest sellout pretty much ever. And although I told myself and Griffin that I'd get back in a stock car no matter what it took, this was too much.

Drug testing, accusations of a shitty character and addiction problems, and never giving me what I wanted so I could put my car in Victory Lane, Truscott fucked me over in just about every way he could have while I was on his team. And he didn't deserve the satisfaction of getting to do it one more time, even if he looked like a little bitch crawling back to me for help. He put all his faith in Elizabeth to be better than I ever was, but apparently, she and I had much more in common than he thought we did, and she came with way less experience, talent, and dare I say maturity.

Without responding, I closed out of the app. Hard pass. No thank you.

Besides, he sent it last night, and I wasn't going to that shithole of a headquarters hungover. That would give Truscott way too much ammo on me.

But another message came in, and I couldn't help but read it. Your read receipts are on. Do you really want to be known as unmanageable? Moretti's already hesitant about that most likely since you're unreasonable with sponsors, so if you want a job next season, I'd start by responding.

I took in a breath. He knew damn well his uncle wasn't worth a second of my time, but he had a point. He, Tyler, and Drake all had the same opinion that I wasn't a team player, and while that was probably true, I didn't have enough wins for that kind of reputation.

So I responded with the only polite response I had. No thanks. I have a combat robotics tournament this weekend.

And this time, I knew damn well it was a bad decision that I had made and would remember.

----------------------------------------

Hi everyone! How's it going? Thank you so much for reading!

So it seems Katie has finally made up her mind with a little bit of help. How do you see this going? Do you think this was too impulsive, or do you think she's right?

And for a fun question, what is a secret talent of yours?

For me, I would probably say that my secret talent is judging people. I know that sounds bad, but within seconds of listening to someone talk, I can easily figure out their personality and their bad traits. It's a blessing and a curse sometimes haha.