Page 18 of Endurance

I didn’t know why I impulsively kissed her. I’d never done anything like that before in my life. In fact, I’d always considered guys who did things like that creepy. By doing what I did today, I’d officially crossed the line into the creeper zone. There had been nothing during our conversation that hinted she was interested in me at all, yet her body language told a different story, so I just acted on it without thinking.

While I knew I’d overstepped my bounds, I didn’t regret it—not for a minute. My only regret was letting her walk away. We had only just met, but two people with a connection like that were not meant to stay strangers.

The crazy thing was, she wasn’t my usual type at all. Tall brunettes, curvy in all of the right places, sultry with just the perfect amount of naughtiness, was the kind of woman I usually went for. Kallie, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. She had a wholesome vibe to her—and she was a total hippie. With her flowy skirt and rainbow-colored hair, she spoke of outlandish ideas about fate and predetermined destiny. It was ridiculous. Yet, for some reason, I couldn’t turn away from her mesmerizing green eyes. And after just one taste of her lips, I knew she would be more than just another brunette pit stop. She would be a challenge, and that made me want to win her over all the more.

Resisting the urge to take a cold shower, I grabbed the keys to my Chevy Camaro and began driving to Auto Club Speedway in Fontana. As I navigated the highway, I couldn’t help missing my Alfa Romeo Spider. It had been my favorite car over the years, but just like everything else, I’d been forced to give it up after my accident. I hated driving the Chevy. It just screamed douchebag with a mullet. If my hip injury didn’t dictate the necessity for the custom paddle technology that only Chevy offered, I wouldn’t have been caught dead in the car. I preferred the sweet and seductive features of the Alfa Romeo’s unique design over the Chevy any day. Every time I complained about it, I forced myself to remember that I was lucky to have found something even remotely sporty. I could have been stuck with a Buick.

Just over an hour later, I arrived at Auto Club Speedway. I hadn’t been to the track since before the doctor called and told me I couldn’t race again. It was too painful, and I knew if I ever returned to any race track, it would have to be on my terms—and preferably not under the watchful eye of Kalliope Benton Riley. With any luck, Colton would be there, and I could talk to him about my current predicament with the girl who completely upended my morning.

When I walked through the main doors, I spotted Beckett Daniels, the Crew Chief for Colton’s racing team, as I made my way through the main gates.

“Hey, Becks!” I called out to him. He glanced in my direction and smiled when he saw me.

“Atwood. Well, well! It’s been a while. I didn’t expect to see you here today,” he drawled in a thick Southern accent.

“What can I say? I’m like a bad penny. I always turn up,” I joked and clapped him on the shoulder. I was surprised by how good it felt to see him. “Man, you’re a sight for sore eyes. How are things around here?”

“Same old since you were here last. You?”

“Eh, the same old for me too, I guess,” I replied as casually as I could. Even though we both knew how drastically different things were in my life, there was no use talking about it. “I’m actually here to see Colton. Is he kicking around?”

“Yes, sir. He’s here—and his knickers are in a knot over something. Last I saw him, he was up in the box yelling at the newest pit crew member. I’m telling you… some of these kids coming in here lately have me shakin’ my damn head. Porchlight is on, but no one’s home.”

I grinned, knowing exactly what Beckett was referring to. Some new hires were better suited for selling team merch than holding a wrench.

“Got it. Thanks for the warning. I’ll head that way.”

I tossed Beckett a quick wave, then walked down the corridor to the steps that would take me to the box seating area of the clubhouse. When I got there, I found Colton with his arms crossed, staring down at the track. His shoulders were tense, and his jaw was set firm. He looked nothing short of furious.

“Rookie forget one of the lug nuts?” I asked as I approached.

Colton glanced in my direction. Shock registered in his eyes before he quickly masked it and turned back to the track.

“No, but he could have if he’d been down with the rest of the crew.”

“Why? What happened?”

“He was up here in the box, sleeping off a hangover. He’s just lucky I got to him before Becks did.”

“Oh, shit. Not good.” I shook my head. Fatigue for any pit crew member was dangerous on a normal day—compounded by an alcohol-induced hangover, it could be deadly. “Did you cut him loose?”

“Nah, he’s a good kid. He’s been on the job for about six months and always brought his A-game—until today, that is. After I was through with him, he knows better than to come here hungover again. If he does, he’s out. The crew is only as strong as its weakest link.”

“No truer words have ever been spoken,” I agreed. I looked down at the track and watched the crews bustling around as they prepped for a practice race. If just one of them missed a step, it could throw an entire race—or worse. I felt Colton’s eyes on me and turned my head to face him.

“How are you holding up, Sloan? You haven’t been here in quite a while. I’m sure you didn’t stop by to hear about a rookie fucking up.”

“I’m fine.”

“Now that’s a whole load of bullshit, and you know it. I called Milo this morning after I heard about what happened in Long Beach. I’m worried about you. We all are.”

I pursed my lips in annoyance. I could always count on Colton for his no-bullshit way of getting straight to the point, but that’s not what I needed now. I didn’t want to talk about how fucked up my life was. I wanted to speak to him about Kallie and what I should do about her.

“What happened yesterday in Long Beach won’t happen again. I’m more concerned about the little girl, Tanya. I can’t tell you how bad I feel,” I admitted.

“I’m sure you feel awful. If it’s any consolation, from what I’ve heard, she’s going to be fine.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I retorted. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

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