Page 134 of Until The Lights Go Out

Immediately, my stomach dropped. “Why do you sound like that?”

“Because,” she said slowly, “they want media coverage around it.”

“Okay…” I answered tentatively knowing there was more.

Serena exhaled softly beside me. “Kaz wants a behind-the-scenes feature. Something focused on women in motorsport. They specifically asked if you’d interview me after the sim session, but I think we should both do it, together.”

My chest tightened painfully. I’d done pretty well with being on track, the sounds and noises of race weekends, but this felt like a whole other level.

“It would be great content for the PitSpark Paddock Report!” She did have a point, and I’m sure the fans would love it, but I had so strictly not let myself think about getting behind the wheel again, even on a simulator. “And millions of girls follow you because you used to race.” Serena’s voice gentled. “After that amazing interview with Theo, you were so brave about opening up with your past life, and I think it would be really good for you. Ya know, healing.”

I looked away. “No, I can’t, S.” The answer came out soft. I wasn’t ready.

“Okay.” Serena nodded immediately. No pressure. No guilt. Just understanding. “Then no.” But now the thought was there, lingering. Interviewing Serena was one thing. That was safe. Being around racing had been shockingly easy, but a simulation test would make it feel real, and I didn’t know if I could do it without being thrown back into a panic of crushing metal and heat. We walked in silence for a few moments before Serena spoke again, carefully casual.

“You know…they rebuilt the simulator wing.”

I frowned. “What?”

“At Kaz.” She shrugged. “Theo showed it to me this morning. They’ve got this whole new development setup.” I tried ignoring the way my pulse skipped at the mention of Theo casually showing Serena around his team. Something about the two of them conspiring together made me on edge.

“And?”

“And,” she continued lightly, “it’s open and available, I can guard the door.”

I snorted softly. “You are being so unsubtle right now.”

“I’m just saying.”

“I haven’t driven in 10 years.”

“You drove Theo’s Porsche in Monaco, he told me!”

“That is not remotely the same thing.”

“But you drove again, for the first time in a really long time, and you enjoyed it.”

I looked away again. Because she was right. I had smiled and laughed and loved the wind in my hair. For one tiny, terrifying second behind the wheel, it hadn’t felt like fear. Itfelt like freedom.

Serena bumped her shoulder against mine gently. “No one’s asking you to come back to racing, Maise.”

The ache in my chest deepened anyway.

“But maybe,” she said softly, “this could be like a reclaiming for you.” The words settled heavily between us while the city carried on around us.

By the time Theo finally got back to the hotel that evening, the sky outside had already turned deep blue, the Austrian mountains barely visible through the darkness settling over the city.

I was curled sideways on the bed in one of his hoodies with my laptop balanced across my thigh, pretending to edit footage while mostly just staring at the same clip of Serena talking for the last 10 minutes.

The door clicked open quietly. Theo stepped inside, looking exhausted in that unfairly attractive way athletes always did after training. His curls were damp from a shower, his black Kaz Racing hoodie hanging loose over gray sweats while his duffel bag dropped heavily beside the door.

The second his eyes landed on me, his entire face softened. “Well,” he sighed dramatically, toeing off his shoes, “I survived.”

“Barely?” I guessed.

“Simmons put me through the ringer today. I had to play nice with so many sponsors and be extra charming, it was exhausting.”

I snorted. “So hard to be you.”