Page 18 of Octane

“Well, um…,” he clears his throat as well, “you need to get suited up. You can change into your new racing suit in the garage. There’s a button on the wall that will close the door.”

Jackson hands me my new helmet, then I walk back to garage number seven. I push the button to shut the door, and as it closes me in, I bask in this sensation. In the feeling that I’m here. I’ve finally made it to the future that I’ve busted my ass to reach.

* * *

That first dayof practice was one of my best days on the track in my entire life. I pushed harder than I ever had before. I blasted the memory of the looks on my teammates' faces from my mind, and I took to the track with more zeal than even I knew I had in me.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to matter much to them. Jackson continues to remind me they will come around, but over the past few practices I’ve come to realize that I don’t care whether that ever happens. Let them hate me. They can’t affect the way I drive. I won’t let them.

They may notlikeme, but they willrespectme.

I let my mind wander while out for a walk with Daniel. It’s our usual Sunday routine: a light lunch at one of our favorite nearby restaurants followed by a walk. It reminds me of earlier on in our relationship.

Every Friday when Daniel would come home from college, we would grab takeout from one of our favorite restaurants, and we’d eat it on the beach. It was the best part of my week, no matter how routine it became. But I don’t look forward to any routine involving Daniel any longer.

We have just entered the lobby of our building when I hear my name being called. I recognize the voice immediately, and a ball of dread drops quickly into the pit of my stomach.

“Sawyer!”

I don’t want to stop. I want to pretend I didn’t hear it and keep walking. I’ve been dreading this meeting since I told Daniel I signed with Powell Racing. Unfortunately, Daniel halts his steps and turns his attention toward the voice. I know as soon as he locks eyes on Jackson by the way he grabs my hand in a vice grip.

My mind is fighting between attraction to Jackson and fear of Daniel. Jackson, by the looks of things, has just come back from a jog. His sleeveless shirt has sweat stains down the front of it in the shape of a “V”. His muscled arms are tanned, and he’s showing off a couple tattoos. The way his gray sweatpants hang from his hips rouses a feeling inside of me that I haven’t felt in years. I force the thoughts from my mind as quickly as I can.

I watch as Jackson’s face falls slightly at the sight of Daniel’s hand wrapped around mine. Is he jealous?

Where the hell did that come from?

No, that’s such a ridiculous notion. There is no way that someone like Jackson would have any type of feelings for me.

That’s not what you thought at the track the other day when he stared deeply into your eyes...

“Jackson, hi. Sorry I didn’t see you.”

“No problem.”

I watch out of the corner of my eye as Jackson and Daniel silently size one another up. This is bad. Whether Jackson is into me or not won’t matter to Daniel. He thinks every guy wants to get with me regardless of the complete lack of interest I show in every man that I meet.

The fact that Jackson and I will be working closely together is going to eat away at Daniel. Another box ticked for Daniel’s distaste of my driving career.

“Jackson, this is my boyfriend, Daniel. Daniel, this is Jackson. He owns Powell Racing.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jackson offers Daniel his hand.

“Delighted,” Daniel replies with vitriol and sarcasm on his tongue, refusing to shake Jackson’s hand.

“Well, thank you for saying hello. I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

With that, I tug at Daniel’s hand, and he follows me to the elevators. I pray that Jackson can take a hint and won’t follow us. I press the up arrow, and it takes everything in my power not to turn around to see if Jackson is still there, all the while feeling Daniel’s displeased stare searing into me.

JACKSON

I can’t stopthe snarl from forming on my face, watching her walk to the elevators with the man she’s with. Herboyfriend.I know nothing about him other than the fact that I don’t like him.

He’s possessive. He latched onto her hand quicker than a lion attacking a hyena when he noticed me calling out for her. There is an evilness in his stare that worries me. I want to follow them onto the elevator, but the uneasiness that is radiating off of Sawyer in waves keeps me from doing so. Instead, I cross behind them and turn the corner so I’m out of their view.

“You didn’t mention that yourownerwas so good looking,” Daniel snaps at her.

“Oh?” she responds, cocking her eyebrow in question. “I didn’t even notice.”

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