The driver sped through the course in mere seconds, leaving clouds of smoke and the aroma of burning rubber drifting through the air. The noise and speed were stunning, and I watched with rapt attention as more drivers lined up to practice.

“They’re going so fast,” I said. “It’s amazing they don’t crash.”

“It takes a lot of practice,” Jason said, giving me a toothy grin. “I’m going to get in a few rounds of my own before the competition starts.” He leaned closer, his eyes flickering down to my lips. “Will you be cheering for me?”

I scrunched up my mouth in thought, as if it was even a question. “I don’t know…That driver over there in the Corvette is pretty cute…” His eyes flashed dangerously, and I laughed, kissing him. “Of course I’ll be cheering for you. You’d better win.”

“I’m not going to lose against a fucking Corvette, that’s for sure,” he said, excitement in his voice as he slid down from the Bronco and headed toward his car. But he gave me one last wink over his shoulder before he got into the driver’s seat. “I’ll win just for you, princess.”

The stands had filled, crowds gathering along the fence for a better view of the action as the first segment of the competition began. Lucas and Manson had come equipped with tools, extra parts, and even spare tires. Our area of the pit was set up like a miniature version of their garage.

“Excited?” Vincent said, coming to join me on my perch atop the Bronco. It was the perfect spot to watch the action, and was partially shaded from the sun by the canopy the men had assembled to work underneath.

“Very,” I said. Jason was about to start his first official run through the course, and nerves were making my hands sweat. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so anxiously invested on someone else’s behalf. I’d really meant it when I’d said I wanted him to win today. “I wasn’t sure what to expect, but all these drivers seem so good.”

“Believe it or not, this isn’t even a professional-level competition,” Vincent said. “All these drivers are considered amateurs.”

“What?” I looked at him in disbelief. “Holy shit, I can’t imagine what the pros are like, then!”

“Their cars are a hell of a lot louder, for one,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “Speaking of which, I was supposed to give you these.” I held out my hand, and he dropped a pair of plastic earbuds into them. “They’re earplugs. They’ll block out the worst of the noise, but you’ll still be able to hear conversations up close. Try them out if you like. It can get pretty loud.”