Page 34 of Ignition Rites

“That wasn’t very hands-off of you.”

He laughs, real and surprised, the sound vibrating against my shoulder.

“I agreed to Ash’s condition.”

“And?”

“And you know what this place is now.”

I lift my head. “That’s your defense?”

“It’s an excellent defense.”

“You promised.”

“I promised to keep my hands off until you knew enough to choose.” His mouth twitches. “Then you chose.”

“That is such bullshit.”

“It is technically impeccable.”

I smack his chest, and he catches my hand and keeps it there. For a moment neither of us jokes.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Ask me again in the morning.”

“I’m asking now.”

I think about the version of tonight where none of this happened, where I went back to my room and processed everything alone the way I’ve processed everything alone my whole life. Then I think about the things I haven’t told him: Cassian’s ring catching gold light, Ash close enough that I felt his breath, and the fact that neither memory disappeared just because I chose Rafe tonight.

They’re still there. So is this.

“Yeah,” I say, and mean it. “I’m okay.”

“Good.” He settles back down and pulls me closer.

Beyond his bedroom door, the rest of the house is still here. Cassian is still here. Ash is still here. So are all the questions waiting for me when morning comes.

For now, I let Rafe’s heartbeat under my ear be enough.

Chapter eleven

Kill the Lights

Rafe

Second race of the season, and I still can’t feel my hands right when I know she’s in the crowd somewhere behind the rail.

The track isn’t the problem. I’ve run this strip enough times that my body does it without asking my brain for permission anymore — clutch, line, apex, out. It’s not knowing where she’s standing that has my pulse jumping every time the floodlights catch a dark-haired girl in the wrong section of the crowd.

It doesn’t help that I haven’t stopped thinking about two nights ago. Her mouth against my neck at a red light. The way she said my name when I was inside her. The way she looked at me afterward like she was trying to decide whether what we’d done had changed anything. I keep waiting for the version of myself that goes back to normal after something like that, and apparently he’s busy.

I find her eventually. Third row back, arms crossed against the cold, a mask doing nothing to hide how hard she’s watching the pits, like she can memorize enough of this place to stop it from surprising her. She hasn’t seen me yet, so I let myself have one clean second of looking before she does.

One second turns into three.

“You’re gonna eat it in heat two if you keep getting distracted,” Nico says behind me.