Page 93 of Heartbreaker

“You talked to Gabriel?” For the first time, Demi looks almost apologetic.

“Yeah. I didn’t want you to have any reason not to jump in with a yes. He said when he assigned us this one, he knew you’d stay.”

I still don’t know how to feel about the mysterious man Lana has been working with for years, who no one has ever met. But I’ll be forever indebted to the man. Not only did he somehow bring Lana to me, but he brought her to herself, and I can’t ever say thank you enough for that.

“What about you?” Lana asks.

“I’m happy where I am. One day, that might change. But right now, we’re talking about you,” Demi says.

“I don’t want to let anyone down,” she whispers.

“If you don’t stay, you’ll be letting yourself down, Lana.” That seems to hit her hard, her eyes widening for a moment as it rolls over her. Then she takes a deep breath and lets it out before nodding.

“Okay,” she says, and hope fills me. “Okay. I’m in. I’m Heartbreaker.” Cheers erupt from the crew, but I ignore them all as I lift her, spinning and kissing her, full of joy in this moment.

“That’s my fucking girl,” I murmur against her lips as I set her back down. She’s giggling and smiling wide, lit up from within, and it brings me so much fucking happiness to know she’s going to have this feeling indefinitely.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she laughs. Courtney comes up from behind her and hands me her helmet. I take it and nod my thanks before turning back to my girl.

“I can. It’s what you were born to do. Now let’s ride, heartbreaker,” I say, holding her helmet out to her. When she grins and takes it, her face beaming and bright and so completely Lana, I know that I’m going to do whatever I can to make sure every version of Lana is always completely fulfilled for the rest of her life.

It’s the least I can do for her, for changing mine so completely.

EPILOGUE

When Lana wins, I don’t hesitate to jump the railing onto the track, despite the cacophony of voices arguing against it.

What are they going to do, suspend me?

Decked out in a completely pink and purple outfit Demi picked out for me, I bolt across the dirt to where Lana is sliding out of her truck. She removes her helmet before catching sight of me below. Without hesitation, she jumps, expecting me to catch her without a word. Which I do, of course.

I’ll always catch Lana Carson.

I press my lips to hers as she throws her helmet to the ground, spinning her around me as I do. In another lifetime, I’d freak about the helmet falling, about the potential damage to it, but who the fuck cares right now?

Lana’s a fucking national champion.

I’ll buy her a dozen new helmets. Hell, there are going to be sponsors lining up to gift her a new one starting tomorrow.

“You did it!” I shout over the loud noise around us.

It’s been three months since she decided to quit the Mavens and join Monster Smash full-time, and despite the odds since this was her first season, despite the nonstop misogyny and rude behavior from announcers and fans, Lana took the entire thing.

My heartbreaker is a champion.

“I did it!” she shouts back, eyes watering as I set her feet to the ground. My hand cups her cheek as she finally cracks, letting the emotion take over her. I pull her into me, knowing she won’t want everyone to see her crying. She’s gotten better about it, but only with me, and it’s something I hold dear. Her trust and comfort with me have only grown, and I’m so grateful for it.

“I’m such a girl,” she says through a sniffle as she pulls back. I press my forehead against hers and wipe at her cheek.

“My girl. You’re my girl, Lana.”

“I am.” I grin at her, and she returns it. I press my lips to hers once more, then whisper, “I love you, heartbreaker.” She hears it, though, evidenced by the new wave of shimmering tears in her eyes.

“I love you, Roman.” As always, when she says those words, my chest settles, warming through, and I kiss her again. I intend this one to be longer, hotter, more consuming, but a shout of her name over my shoulder distracts her.

“Lana!” Behind us in the stands are a handful of women, all of them strikingly beautiful, with Demi in the middle, carrying a giant Team Heartbreaker banner they made. They’re all wearing custom Heartbreaker shirts, and while I knew they would all be here—I was the one who made sure our huge cheering section would have the seats we needed all together—Lana did not. Her eyes are wide as she runs to the edge of the stadium, staring up at the Mavens.

“What are you guys doing here?” Lana asks, in awe.