Page 129 of Hot Lap
Misho’s voice crackles through the radio: “Purple sector. Keep pushing.”
He’s already on it.
The curbs blur. Brake. Downshift. Apex. Full send.
“Another tenth,” Misho adds. “You’re the benchmark, RP.”
When he finally rolls into the garage, the car purring beneath him, he feels the edge of perfection sharpened and earned in every limb.
The crew crowds in. A few fist bumps. A shoulder clap. He pulls off his helmet and balaclava, sweat dampening his hair.
At the back of the garage, Maiken stands behind a bank of monitors beside Ona, headset still on. Her blue eyes meet his, wide and electric, and the grin that stretches across her face does something to his nervous system that he’s never felt before and is grateful to experience now.
After he goes through his cooldown process with Ona, Misho finds him and hands him a tablet. “Debrief ready when you are.”
The meeting is quick. His setup’s dialed in and there’s no reason to fiddle with it. So an hour later, he’s in the hospitality unit with Maiken, Coy, Misho, and Ona, scarfing down salad,Samak Mashwi, and rice while discussing the day. Maiken’s next to him, legs curled under her, somehow managing to look elegant even while demolishing grilled hamour.
Then Claudia enters the suite and makes a beeline for their table.
“Your hot lap video just dropped.” She turns her tablet to display the paused footage.
Maiken sits up straighter. “So soon?”
Claudia nods. “Prioritized by special order. Team socials pushed it five minutes ago, and it’s already going viral.”
She taps the screen to start the video.
The footage begins with Reece helping Maiken into the McLaren. A fast, funky soundtrack plays underneath as they banter.
"Excited?"
She nods, smile huge. “Are you gonna drive like a maniac?”
He smirks. “Always.”
“Outstanding.”
The edit cuts to a wide shot from inside the car. Her face lights up with glee as he tears through corners, and she yells, “Go faster!”
The engine roars and tires squeal as the footage cuts to an outside shot of Reece drifting the car through a corner.
Back into the McLaren’s interior. “Top speed’s three hundred forty-one km/h down the straight,” he calls. “You want to feel it?”
“Hell. Yes.”
He grins, one hand on the wheel, casual as fuck as he buries the speedometer on the straight.
She raises her arms. “Wheeeee!”
The video ends on an exterior shot as he does donuts, then cuts to Maiken climbing from the car, helmet in hand, and smile wild and beautiful.
“That was * BLEEP* amazing!”
Mai’s radiant and flushed, laughing at the footage, obviously remembering the thrill.
“Comments are already rolling in,” Claudia adds. “People love you guys.”
Coy smirks over his coffee. “She makes you look likable, Reece. That’s a PR miracle.”
