Page 35 of Revv

“It was outside of the fucking track.”

“Exactly.”

Andre doesn’t even bother answering that. He turns toward Talon instead. “Get the warmers off and take the BMW M 1000 RR out first. That thing tops out around one-ninety-five, so I want clean laps, not you two trying to fucking kill each other before the tires are hot.”

Talon nods toward me. “He started it.”

“The fuck I did. I barely made it through the door before you nosy assholes jumped me.”

Andre points toward the track. “Save the bullshit for later. Both of you, outside,” he adds before turning his attention to Echo, who’s already wiping her hands on a rag.

“We got three sponsor bikes dropped off this morning. Two Ducati Panigale V4 Rs and a BMW M 1000 RR. I need you to check the forks before anyone touches them. The front end on one of the Ducati’s felt too soft when they unloaded it, and the BMW’s sitting uneven.”

Echo frowns and looks toward the covered bikes lined up near the far bay. “They came set up like that?”

“Apparently.”

“That’s fucking comforting.”

“I want the suspension checked, the ride height measured, and every setting written down before anyone takes them near the track.”

Andre turns toward the rest of us and points at the doors with his clipboard. “The rest of you idiots, get out there. Twenty laps, timed. Lowest lap time gets to skip tomorrow’s conditioning session.”

That gets everyone’s attention.

Sayshen lowers his coffee. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

“You don’t stand a fucking chance, you’re hungover,” Talon says.

“Still faster than you.”

“Prove it,” he adds, grabbing his suit from the rack with a cocky grin.

Andre claps the clipboard against his palm. “Save it for the track. Echo, finish up here and join them when you’re done.”

“I won’t be long,” she says, tossing the rag onto her cart.

Talon heads for the tire warmers while Reign downs the rest of his coffee and drops the cup into the bin. Sayshen mutters something about winning through adversity but starts toward his bike anyway.

Thorne hangs back long enough to lean toward Echo again, but she plants a greasy palm against his crisp white tee before he can kiss her.

“Track.”

He laughs, catches her wrist, and kisses the inside of it instead. “Bossy little thing.”

“Move, Thorne.”

He backs away with a grin and heads for the doors. “See you out there, love.”

I grab my helmet from the bench and walk past him towards my locker. “That was embarrassing.”

“Says the mug checking his phone again.”

I glance down at the screen in my hand.

Still nothing from Cece, but I grin anyway and slide it into my locker. “She’ll answer.”

Thorne pulls on his gloves and gives me a knowing look. “Course she will, mate. Any minute now.”