“Well, not race, but drive fast. I’ve had a very difficult day and I would like to drive fast.”
“Nice car,” Shane said. “Three hundred horse?”
“Thereabouts. Hits sixty in under five seconds,” Conn said. “How’s the track?”
Shane wiped his hands on a rag and tossed it into a bucket on the trailer. “Dry as a bone. Great conditions, if you don’t mind freezing your nuts off.”
“Let’s get you in the line,” Conn said.
“Could Finn take me?” Cady asked. “That way you can talk to Shane about whatever he’s fixed with your car.”
Finn turned tomato red. Conn and Shane kindly ignored that, but Conn did shoot Finn a sharp look that made Finn straighten up. They got into Cady’s Audi, and she drove carefully to the main runway, where a short line of cars waited to take a turn at the warming strip.
“You’re going to do more harm than good warming up street tires,” Finn said. “You want something slicker if you’re going to race regularly. For tonight, just give it a quick rev to knock off any rocks you’ve picked up on the way here. Watch the guys in the reflective vests. They’ll tell you when to move forward.”
“Got it,” Cady said.
“Uncle Conn’s a good guy,” Finn said.
“He is,” Cady agreed, her attention focused on the drivers in front of her. Another car rolled forward, leaving her two spots from the warming strip.
“I’d hate to see him get hurt.”
“Me, too,” Cady said absently. “Wait, what?”
“You’re wearing his hat.”
Maybe it looked more like a girl wearing her boyfriend’s class ring than she’d thought. “I am,” Cady said somewhat stupidly. “I borrowed it when we were at the Christmas tree farm.”
“I know,” Finn said. “I saw the pictures on Instagram. Look, Conn’s not like other guys, okay? He’s not a player. He’s never brought a girl to the track before. I can remember meeting, like, one girlfriend ever, and even then he brought her to a holiday dinner at my aunt Susan’s house, not the track. Roll up.”
So … the track matters more than a dinner with family? Of course it did. Family didn’t last. In Conn’s mind, the track was forever. The track was the place he did battle with his demons. It was like her studio. Cady shut her gaping mouth and tapped the accelerator. “I’m only here because he’s my bodyguard while I’m home,” Cady said. “He can’t leave me alone. This is just work for him.”
Finn shot her a disbelieving look only a disgusted teenager could pull off. She’d seen the expression on Emily’s face many times. “You’re up.”
Cady rolled down her window to better hear the official’s instructions. He beckoned her forward, positioning her tires on the strip. “Foot on the brake?”
Terrified of running over a track official, she jammed the brake to the floor, put the car in first, and tapped the accelerator. The wheels spun for a second. The official gave her a thumbs-up. Cady rolled the window back up just in time to see Conn jog behind her car and open Finn’s door. “Out,” he said with a jerk of his thumb.
Finn shot Cady a look then scrambled out of the car. Conn slid in and slammed the door. “Passengers add weight to your car,” he said, reaching over his shoulder for the seat belt. “Normally you make it as light as you can, but you’re stuck with me tonight.”
She’d like to be stuck with him forever, but between Finn’s protective warning and the adrenaline rush of the drag racing, her heart was pounding. The starting line official beckoned her forward. “Aren’t you driving?”
“I’ll go after you’ve had a couple of rounds. Eyes on the lights.”
The lights counted down to green. Cady gripped the steering wheel with her left hand and the gearshift with her right, and floored the accelerator. The car leapt forward, the RPMs revving up as she shifted through second, into third, barely pausing between shifts because she still had the accelerator floored. The car shot past the red lights indicating the end of the quarter mile, and Cady let up on the gas pedal.
“Breathe,” Conn advised.
“Wow,” Cady said, then gasped in air. “Just … wow.”
“Nice job.”
“My shifting was weak,” Cady said.
“You’ll get the hang of it, newb.”
“I should give you your hat back,” Cady said as she crept around the turn to taxi back to the starting pole.
“You got a hood on that coat?” Conn said.
“No,” she admitted. She was wearing Emily’s design, and the longer she wore it, the more she liked it. She was both warm and looking very, very fine.
“Keep it, or Chris will have my ass.”
“He’s not going to … it’s already on Instagram, isn’t it?”
“Yup,” Conn said.
“Great. Just great.” She reached in her pocket and checked for texts. Two from Chris.
Goddammit Cady. Followed by a string of frowning emojis.