Page 162 of Knot So Lucky
Challenge, push, and make us better individually and collectively.
CHAPTER 31
Calibration And Conspiracy
~AURORA~
The private test track is perfect.
Completely isolated from the main Thorne Racing compound, it's a smaller circuit designed specifically for vehicle calibration and diagnostics. No media, no spectators, no pressure beyond what we put on ourselves.
Just me, Adrian, and the prototype we're testing.
The morning air is crisp and clean, carrying that particular scent of fresh asphalt and morning dew that makes every racer's heart beat a little faster. The sun hasn't fully risen yet, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold that would be distractingly beautiful if I weren't so focused on the work ahead.
Adrian stands beside me at the diagnostic station, reviewing telemetry data on his tablet while I make final adjustments to the suspension settings.
"Breakfast was seriously amazing, by the way," I say, not looking up from my work but unable to keep the appreciation from my voice. "Like, restaurant quality. I don't know how you make pancakes that fluffy."
I can hear the smile in his voice when he responds.
"Practice and good ingredients. MyOmaalways said the secret to good cooking is putting love into every step."
The casual mention of love makes something warm bloom in my chest, but I keep my focus on the calibration numbers scrolling across my screen.
"I wish I could cook like that," I admit quietly, feeling oddly vulnerable with the confession. "I can manage the basics—eggs, pasta, things that won't kill you. But I've never had the time to really learn how to bake properly, or take the effort to cook elaborate meals."
I pause, considering why this suddenly feels important.
"It's a form of love language," I continue, surprised by my own honesty. "One I've always wanted to be able to deliver to people I care about. My pack, now. But I just... never learned."
Adrian sets down his tablet, giving me his full attention in that way he has—like whatever I'm saying is the most important thing in the world.
"I can teach you," he says simply. No hesitation, no judgment about my lack of domestic skills.
"Wouldn't that be time-consuming?" I frown at the diagnostic screen, making a minor adjustment. "We're already stretched thin with training and prep for the entry races."
"Never." The certainty in his voice makes me look up. "Teaching you something you want to learn, spending time together while doing it? That's not time-consuming—that's quality time. Two different things entirely."
The distinction hits me harder than expected, making my chest tight with emotions I'm not sure how to process.
"I'd like that," I say softly, meeting his warm gaze. "But I'm nervous because I don't think I can be good at it. Cooking seems like one of those things where you're either naturally talented or you're hopeless."
Adrian laughs—rich and genuine. "Aurora, you're one of the most sought-out pit techs in the industry. You can diagnose engine problems by sound alone. You rebuilt a carburetor blindfolded to win a bet. You'll definitely be able to learn how to bake cookies, make pie, and cook anything you want."
The confidence in his voice makes me believe it might actually be possible.
"Deal," I agree, grinning. "You teach me cooking, and I'll?—"
"Teach me some of the work you're doing now," Adrian interrupts, gesturing at the diagnostic equipment. "I understand the theory, but watching you work is different from reading about it in technical manuals."
The request surprises me.
Most people find mechanical diagnostics boring—necessary but tedious work that lacks the glamour of actual racing.
But Adrian seems genuinely interested, leaning in as I start explaining what I'm doing.
"This is the suspension calibration interface," I begin, falling into teaching mode naturally. "We're adjusting the damping rates to match the track surface characteristics. Too soft and we lose response time in direction changes. Too stiff and we can't maintain tire contact over bumps."
