Page 138 of First in Line

“So you realize how serious this is,” I counter, lying. “My leg is fucking killing me from having to press three hundred pounds to brake for seventy laps every other week. I need rest.”

I realize this isn’t enough to convince him, but he seems to decide there’s no point in arguing more about this. “Okay, you got your rest this weekend,” he eventually concedes. “But I want you in top shape for Silverstone. You’re not missing that one. I don’t care how exciting it might be that you and your ex-wife are giving it another chance. Eight hundred people have been working their asses off for this season. And they’re getting a bonus if we win the championship, like always. You have no right to ruin it for all of them. Do you understand me?”

It doesn’t take long for me to answer, “Yes,” through gritted teeth.

“Good,” Wesley approves. “Now, enjoy what’s left of your weekend, Jackson. I’ll see you in Silverstone. And say hi to Evangeline for me.”

“Bye, Wes.”

Once I hang up, I take a deep breath and walk around the lot for a moment, trying to calm myself. I’m filled with a mix of anger and resentment. A cigarette would do fucking wonders right now…

When I decided to ditch Spielberg and come here, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. What’s missing one race in over seven years?

But as much as I dislike the way he went about it, Wes isn’t wrong. I might be the Altron team’s most prominent figure, but hundreds of people stand alongside me, helping to make this possible. Letting them down more than I already have would be selfish. Yes, I have to make time for Evie, but not at the team’s expense.

I can’t let them down again this season, but I also can’t letherdown. Not when she’s finally giving me the second chance I’ve been hoping for since she left me.

I’ll make it work. I’ll find a way, somehow, to make it all fit together. Even if I have to be on a plane twice a week.

She’s worth it. All of it.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FIVE

Evangeline

Ikeep staring at the plus sign, as if I can somehow blink it away. But no matter how many times or for how long I close my eyes, it’s still there when I open them again.

How is that even possible? I’ve been religiously taking my pills. Every single day at the same time. I shouldn’t be pregnant.

Ican’tbe pregnant.

Tears well up in my eyes, blurring the pregnancy test before me. This isn’t the right time for a baby. It’s too soon. Our life here is still a mess, Jackson is barely ever home, and I have two years left until I get my bachelor’s.

We’re supposed to have more time. To be in our house in Italy when this happens. Not within eight months of moving to Europe.

It’s way too soon. I’m barely getting comfortable around here.

No, this must be wrong. I should have bought more tests. I can’t be pregnant.

Sitting on the closed lid of the toilet in our bathroom, I try to sort out my jumbled thoughts.

I just turned twenty-one years old, for goodness’ sake! I always told myself I would never be like my mom and have a child too soon, but here I am, pregnant, just three years older than she was when she had my sister. Two years younger than when she had me.

My God… What am I going to do?

Knocks on the door startle me, and I drop the test on the tiled floor. “Yes?” I call out, scrambling to pick it up as I wipe away the tears on my cheeks.

“I’m about to head off for the day. Can I get my kiss?”

He tries to open, but I turned the latch on, so it only rattles. “Did you lock the door?” he wonders with surprise.

“Yes, sorry.”

“Since when do you lock the door? Are you okay?”

“Yes, give me a minute.”