I glanced up through the window to where Trent was sitting on the concrete wall, phone in his hand. He looked up as I did, and we grinned at each other.
The familiar surge of adrenaline started in my core and spread out like the sun rising and filling the darkness with light. My knee bounced with energy, and I gripped the gearshift.
I pressed down on the gas and took off.
I was flying.
Trent
Fucking awesome.
That’s what it was like to watch Drew drive.
He literally flew over the road with unbridled fear. It was exhilarating. I could only imagine what it was like to be behind the wheel.
Sure, I drove with him a lot, but I was more restrained. I was more cautious. It was a rush then, so what he must feel like when he opened it up and went for it was probably unmatched.
I wondered if I’d ever experience anything that would come close to the way he felt right now.
Even as I was amazed, the mechanic in me stepped forward. I paid attention to the way the car leaned and took the curves. I watched the smoothness with which the gears shifted and the competence of the tires against the asphalt.
Drew knew how to milk his car to get great results, but to some extent, he was out of control. A lot depended on the car, the inner workings of it, and the quality of the parts and work we did on it. He trusted me with that car, which basically equated to him trusting me with his life.
I took that seriously.
Probably more serious than my own safety at times.
So while, yeah, I got a rush watching him out on the track, most of me went into work mode. It made me wish I was a better mechanic, because I probably missed shit someone more experienced wouldn’t.
I did note the way the car leaned a little, and I started working out a plan for when we would be able to get under the hood.
Ron Gamble stood closer to the track, near his car, to watch. The man who drove him here stood at his side and watched as well. Every once in a while, they would lean in and speak to each other.
It was kinda making me crazy.
What were they saying? What did they think of Drew?
The second time Gamble glanced in my direction, I jumped off the wall and strode over to where he was. At first, I’d planned to hang back, just be here to support Drew.
Fuck that.
I could support him and put in a good word for him at the same time.
Gamble must have been waiting for me to approach, because the second I came within arm’s length, he turned and held out his hand.
“Ron Gamble,” he introduced himself.
“Trent Mask,” I returned.
“Ah, yes. I’ve watched you play football for a few years now. You’re a great addition to the Wolves.”
“Thank you,” I said, genuine. “It was a good four years with the Wolves. It went by fast.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Yes. Life has a way of doing that.”
“So does Drew.” I gestured to the cobalt-blue Fastback that was nothing but a blur as it breezed by.
Gamble laughed. “Yes, he definitely is fast.” His eyes turned off me and back to the track. “This is a colleague of mine, Jay Hopper. He works at headquarters, keeps the drivers all in check.”
I offered my hand to the man beside him, and we shook.
“So…” I began, going right for it. “What do you think of Drew?”
“I like a man who cuts to the chase,” Gamble said.
“One of the most motivated drivers you’re ever gonna meet.”
“Not shy are you, either?” He glanced at me, his lips pulled up in a smile.
I shrugged. “Not when it comes to this.”
“Are you his manager?” Hopper asked.
“No, he’s my best friend. I’m here for support.”
“He has a lot of support,” Gamble mused. “Anderson and Walker talk him up to me whenever they get the chance. And their wives?” Gamble chuckled. “They talk about him constantly.”
“We’re family.” I shrugged. I made a mental note to tell him Braeden put in a word for him. I was sure he’d get a kick out of his brother-in-law going to bat for him. Those two liked to give each other a hard time, but this proved B actually liked him.
Gamble returned to watching Drew. “It’s good to have a large support system. It’s needed in a sport like this.”
“That mean you’re interested in working with him?”
Damn. That might have been a little too point blank.
Hopper barked a laugh. “You sure you aren’t his manager, kid? You should be.”
“I’ll say this. If you do sign him, I’ll be around a lot.”
At that moment, Drew drifted around the curve of the oval. It was a perfect fucking drift.
My chest swelled with pride.
I glanced at Gamble and lifted an eyebrow as if to say, You’d be stupid not to sign him.
“He’s good,” he allowed.
“Better than good.” I corrected.
“He’s out there alone,” Hopper added.
“Let’s see how he does on the track with another driver.” Gamble continued.