Page 98 of Crew Girl

They shared a laugh, like old friends.

Teagan tried to hide the sting of pain she felt, not knowing if she and Cam would ever share witty banter again.

“Excellent,” Madison said, plucking his number out of her pile. “First race at erg ten. You’ve got this, Dillinger.”

“Good luck out there, Cam,” Teagan said.

“Thank you.” He gave her a nod, shared a fist bump with Madison, then headed off without a second look.

“How long have you guys been friends?” asked Teagan.

“I was there for his bowl-cut phase.”

She would’ve liked to see that. Not as much as she wanted to earn back his trust. “We used to be friends, but now he barely talks to me. You have any advice on how I could fix it?”

Madison looked sympathetic. “Look, he’s going through his own thing. It’s him. Going lone wolf instead of asking for help. He just needs time.”

It made sense. She could be like that, too. But if there was any way to speed up the clock, she wished she knew it.

JOSH

Josh put his head on his steering wheel, waiting until his pounding heart slowed down. He unzipped his duffel, unearthed a bottle of pills, told himself a few lies, then forced himself out of the car and headed toward the rec center.

His dad had reclaimed his throne at Regis Airlines and had made it clear it was Josh’s turn to stage his own coup: coming first on the leaderboard.

A few cars down, he stopped short, tucked himself behind an SUV.

Shit.

Baloo was talking to the Westvale guy he’d been dating. Or trying to date.

The Westvale guy looked mad at first, then confused. He couldn’t see Baloo’s face or hear what they were saying. Should he intervene? He ran over the last few weeks, a reminder that keeping his head down was probably the better option. Everything he’d tried to steer in a different direction lately had gone off course. Plus, Baloo was still, rightfully, angry about the Brit thing. He got it. Sort of. Sibling loyalty. Something that didn’t extend to cousins.

Whatever they were talking about, it didn’t look like they were reaching a peace accord. Baloo shot the Westvale guy a look of disgust over his shoulder as he went off.

Good. Okay. He had this. That was one hurdle down anyway.

The second hurdle popped up just inside the rec center.

Ryder and his mom, Karina, were in line at the check-in. True. He could’ve left them to it. Waited until they’d left. Avoided the inevitable conflict.

But Karina had made a real show of rubbing her dad’s face in the fact that she’d gotten his job—flipping the tables on their lifelong rivalry.

He might be a selfish jerk, but Richard Regis was still his dad. Still the guy Josh was busting a gut to please. Making it no surprise that he hadn’t bowed out of the game, graciously conceding a game well played.

Nope. He’d gone underground, pulled a few strings, rubbed his hands together, and done what Richard Regis did best. Skulduggery.

Karina was pointing out the coach from Georgetown to Ryder as Josh got in line behind them. “Make sure you mention you’re applying to his alma mater,” she told her son.

“Obviously,” Ryder said.

“Yeah, me, too,” Josh cut in. “Who isn’t applying to Georgetown? I can hear the call of the Potomac already.”

Ryder scowled, then made a weird show of looking around for someone. “Where’s your dad, Josh? Didn’t want to see you lose again?”

Don’t rise to it, Josh. Stay frosty. “He’s overseas on business. Closing a deal. Something about transferring an underling to Rotterdam?”

As soon as he’d reclaimed his job, his dad had gotten Karina transferred to Rotterdam. Sounded cool. Living in Europe. But they all knew what it really was: a demotion.