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“Hah, a German.” Penny scoffs behind me as a green Volkswagen pulls up next to him.
“I’ll try not to be personally offended by that,” Fitz says, rolling his eyes while holding my gaze. “Is that Vic’s car?”
“He and Papa fixed it up,” Alex says, and then grips my thigh so hard it could bruise. I swat her away. “Sorry, nerves.” She shakes her head. “I want to wrap him in bubble wrap.”
“Ok, Mama.” Penny shoves Alex from behind. “He’s got his helmet on, he’ll be fine.” Fitz takes my hand as the announcer reads out the specs on both cars. We all cheer, even Fitz, with his hands cupped around his mouth, when they call Vic’s name.
And then, with a beep, the light turns green and they start down the section of the track, neck and neck. The VW gains on Vic, just for a moment, before, halfway down, Vic shoots in front of him. I stand with Alex, screaming, and suddenly our whole group is screaming, cheering, as Vic crosses the finish line, dusting the VW easily. Even Fitz is laughing, clapping as Penny and Carla whoop, Kyle screaming “yes!” next to us.
Fitz slides his arm over my shoulder, pulling me toward him, and I do a little happy dance in his arms, wiggling. And for a moment, I wonder why he was so worried - he’s doing fine, with all of these people. Like being with a group that had no true expectations, aside from childish jabs from Alex, brought out a different side to him. I watch Vic’s car pull into the other side of the speedway, where finalists sit before the best in class rounds.
But I feel Fitz’s whole body tense over me, and I glance up at him, trying to figure out what’s going on. His gaze is far off, staring at a distant part of the crowd. Slowly, his hand retracts from me, and it’s like the mask has come back on. His face is emotionless, back to stone, as he leans forward, looking at Nolan.
“Restroom?” Even Nolan can tell that something is wrong, but he cocks his head toward the outer ring of the speedway behind us, up the stairs, and Fitz nods. To his credit, he gives my shoulder a squeeze, not meeting my eye as he brushes past us, walking up the stairs two at a time.
“What the actual fuck?” Carla says, head bobbing between Fitz and where I sat, staring after him, completely confused.
“Oh, shit.” When I meet Alex’s gaze, her eyes are wide. She nods behind me, and I turn in my seat, tracking where she’s looking. My body goes rigid, understanding immediately why Fitz had done the same. Because standing in the front row a section away, staring at us, is an equally shocked looking Ryan Trinh.
Chapter 48
Fitz
Thepersoninthemirror looks nothing like me. He’s got the same dark red hair. The same green eyes. The same tense jaw that’s always stared back at me. But the curls are neater. The shirt isn’t something I would ever own. And the intense, burning rage that stares back isn’t anything I’ve ever seen in my face before.
But there’s a first time for everything.
I grip the cold porcelain of the sink with both hands, willing the feeling to ground me. To tether me back to reality.
Ryan Trinh.
RyanfuckingTrinh.
Of all the people. Of all the places he could have been.
I knew there was a moderate risk. The second I spotted the speedway, I knew. He and his college buddies came here all the time, for regular races and drag. I hadn’t seen or spoken to him in years, given the circumstances with Olivia. Had never confronted him for sleeping with my wife, right under my nose.
For being my best friend and tearing my entire life apart with three little words.
I reach out for the sink, turning on the water and splashing it on my face. It’s lukewarm, and doesn’t hit the way I needed it to, like a cold jolt to the system. I’m wiping at my face with a paper towel when the door opens behind me, and I meet Kyle’s gaze in the dingey mirror. Behind him are Brett and Nolan.
I can’t blame the girls for sending them in after me - I’ve been in here for twenty minutes trying to get myself sorted.
“Dude,” Brett says, stepping up next to me. “You scared the shit out of your girl.”
Your girl. If I wasn’t so fucking pissed right now, I’d probably feel a little better about anyone referring to Piper as my girl. I meet Brett’s dark stare, my nostrils flaring.
“I know you don’t wanna lose your cool in front of her.” Kyle crosses his arms in front of him. Based on the way he’s dressed, my guess is he came directly from work - black pants, with a black button up, rolled up at the sleeves. “But going AWOL ain’t gonna help.”
I laugh, scrubbing a hand down my face.
“Losing my cool is the least of my worries.” I stare down to the hand still gripping the sink, my own white knuckles, which still have scars from getting battered in lacrosse, from fights as a kid. “If I see him again, I may throttle him.”
Nolan crosses his arms too. “Do you care about Piper?”
I rear my head back at his words. Did we not just have an entire discussion about this three hours ago?
“Uh-"
