#Rev (GearShark #2)

“You can send that stuff to me,” Trent said.

Gamble nodded. “Once you decide, I’ll have my legal team make sure the deals are solid. Also, because the preliminaries are being scheduled, we need to get some kind of driving schedule down so you’ll be ready. We also need to talk about the car you’re going to be driving and assembling a pit crew to travel with you.”

“I need a pit crew for preliminary races?” I asked. How big were these events going to be?

“Maybe not as full of a crew as you’ll need once the actual racing season starts, but I’d never send you to qualify without a team to troubleshoot your car.”

“I want to be on the team,” Trent said.

Gamble nodded around his scotch. “That’s a given.”

It was all so real and so goddamn exciting. My racing career was literally blooming in front of my eyes. It was everything I always wanted.

“And of course, we need to discuss your salary. You’re not going to be able to hold on to your day job much longer. I’m going to need you here to train.”

No more day job? No more neckties, staring at the clock ‘til five and dragging my ass out of bed so I could get there on time?

Hells yeah.

I found myself grinning, like one of those big stupid grins people wore on lame-ass TV commercials, but I couldn’t help it. Life was falling together.

Or was it?

My grin vanished with the thought.

“Before we get into all of that, I need to make sure I’m still the racer you want,” I said.

The glass in Gamble’s hand lowered toward his lap, and his eyes belayed some surprise. “And why would you think I changed my mind?”

“You haven’t yet. But you might after I say what I came here to say.” Tension built low in my stomach. It sort of felt like it was chewing up my insides and making them ache. Around the glass, my palm was sweating, and I griped harder because I was worried the drink would literally slip out of my grasp.

Please don’t let my career slip out of my grasp either.

The words were right there, lodged in my throat. I wanted to say them. I wanted to boldly tell him I was in love with Trent, but the syllables were sticky, thick, and clung to my esophagus like a bad case of mucus.

You could hear a pin drop in the few seconds that followed my words. Everyone was waiting with bated breath.

As I struggled, Trent cleared his throat. “Drew and I are in a relationship.”

All the air in my lungs whooshed out silently. The pressure in my chest and the thickness in my throat suddenly let go.

I didn’t even look at Gamble. I was too compelled to look at Trent. He spoke so calmly, so matter-of-fact. He could have been reading a grocery list. I admired that so hard. I loved him for it.

He glanced at me, and the single connection I felt when our eyes met was all I needed. I wasn’t giving up a life by admitting my relationship.

I was gaining one.

Amazement, the kind that made you feel gobsmacked and woozy, gripped me. It wasn’t Gamble’s reaction to Trent’s admission I was even concerned with. I hadn’t even looked at him yet. The first person in this room I sought out was my person. It proved everything I needed to know.

I was gonna be okay.

I swung toward Gamble and relaxed back into the leather. “Trent and I aren’t just friends. I’m in love with him.”

Gamble calmly looked between us. His eyes gave away nothing. His face gave away nothing. He sipped his scotch. Joey fidgeted on the sofa.

I kept my eyes trained directly on him. I wouldn’t let his silence unnerve me. I wouldn’t let it make me doubt myself.

There was no doubt.

Trent was it for me.

“I see,” Gamble said after a moment. “And how long has this relationship been going on?”

“Only a few weeks,” I replied. “It’s new, but that doesn’t mean it won’t stick. This isn’t a phase.”

“You knew about this?” Gamble addressed his daughter.

She nodded. “It was obvious when I was in town, driving with Drew.”

“And what do you think about these two?” Gamble asked.

God, the man had a fucking poker face. It was virtually impossible to know what he was thinking.

Joey didn’t seem alarmed, though, so I told myself to chill the fuck out.

“They’re real,” she replied simply. “I like real.”

He nodded as if he heard what she didn’t say.

Gamble glanced back at me. “Must have been hard coming here tonight. Now I see why my daughter wanted to have this conversation at home.”

I nodded. “Look, I know this probably isn’t what you signed on for. You’re a businessman first, and you’re basically building a new racing brand from scratch. I would have disclosed my, uh, relationship to you in the beginning, but it wasn’t as it is now. Having your main driver in a relationship with another man might not be good for business. Maybe you don’t want a gay man as the face of your team. If that’s the case, tell me now. There are plenty of other good drivers that would be willing to take my place.”

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