Page 15 of Speed Crush

Above us, I can hear the scuff of retreating sneakers and awkward excuses as the group breaks up.

I bark a laugh. “Want me to flex? Mark territory?”

She finally looks at me, amusement flickering behind those guarded eyes. “Go ahead. Tarzan.”

I roll out from under the kart and stand, dusting off my hands. The guys hadn't moved far, still hovering and hanging back, pretending they weren't just trying to flirt with their instructor.

I let the moment hang, then raise my voice just enough to carry. “Hey, Romeo Squad—front and center.”

They shuffle over, trying to act casual.

I clap my hands once, sharp. “Who can tell me the difference between throttle lag and brake fade?”

Silence.

I glance over at June, and she’s already out from under the kart with clipboard hugged against her chest. Her braid’s come loose at the side, and her lips—just slightly flushed—tug at the edges like she’s holding back a comment. Ormaybea memory… of our kiss?

She steps beside me and turns to the boys with a cheery teacher tone. “Throttle lag happens when the engine takes a moment to respond after you press the gas. Brake fade? That’s when your brakes start giving up on life after you’ve been pushing too hard for too long.”

A few of them chuckle, nodding like they actually got it.

She scans the row of faces, pausing just long enough to make them squirm. “Know the difference, and you’ll know whether to push harder or back off. Miss it, and you’ll spin out—or worse, crash.”

She tosses one of the boys a crooked smile—easy, bright, like she’s in her element. And I think half of them just fell in love.

She turns towards me and I catch the flicker of a dimple before she straightens her face—just a flash—like she forgot to guard it.

She’s generous with the boys, handing out easy smiles and patient nods like the world’s coolest teacher. But me? I get nothing but flannel and restraint. Not even a flicker of acknowledgment for that searing kiss we shared.

I know what I felt. And I’m pretty damn sure she did too.

So yeah—maybe I’ll have to remind her. Just how much she kissed back.

Because right now, she’s acting like she’s got the upper hand.

I’ve never had to chase anyone before. But if chasing looks like this—smart mouth, sharp mind, and a voice like velvet while she tunes an engine—maybe I’ve misunderstood the thrill entirely.

Because somehow, in the middle of all this grease and noise, I feel more keyed up than I do on race day. Like I want to win something I don’t even know how to name.

After the roll call and kart assignments, the teens are ushered into the main building for more orientation paperwork—waivers, emergency contacts, code of conduct, and more photo-taking being the first batch of kids going through Mega Max training program.

I spot Karla Berisa from afar—one of Lily's Candy Jar crew and the town’s unofficial queen of logistics. We had met briefly in Candy Jar’s commercial kitchen when Lily introduced me to her staff. Karla had given me a welcome speech and a bag of lemon sours like I was being sworn into a candy-coated cult.

She must have volunteered for the task, like many others in Cedar Falls. Clipboard in hand and a pencil tucked behind her ear, she looks to be running the orientation show.

Right now, she’s barking instructions with the kind of precision that makes half the boys straighten their spines like they’ve just been summoned to boot camp.

I hang back near the pit entrance, watching June scribble something onto a maintenance sheet.

I clear my throat. “Hey.”

She doesn’t look up right away.

After a beat, she glances up at me and asks, “This must be quite a shift for you—going from places like Silverstone and Suzuka circuits to a Cedar Falls welcome parade. Bit different from what you're used to, huh?”

I grin. “It’s been alright. Actually, I came over to see if you’d want to grab dinner with me tonight.”

That gets her attention. Her eyes flick up. “You know... there’s a whole Grand Opening thing happening downtown tonight—live music, food trucks, beer garden. It’s like Cedar Falls’ version of Times Square.”

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