"Alright, Phoenix, are you ready to get pole position?" Chris spoke into the radio, his gaze fixed on the dozens of screens on the pit wall.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

"Good." Chris's grin mimicked my own, and I watched how Phoenix sped past the pit lane and straight toward the finish line. "We'll give you extra power for this one. Williams and Nyx are just a few hundredths behind you, so don't get too cocky."

I could only imagine how hard Phoenix rolled his eyes at that comment. "Yeah. Stop talking. Let me drive." His warning rustled through the radio just as he crossed the start-and-finish line, starting his last attempt at a lap.

Currently, Phoenix was on pole. He'd set the best lap time, but we all knew both Connor and Rafi could still catch up with him.

Our red-and-blue car sped through the corners, looking faster than it's ever looked at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, famous host of the F1 season finale.

"Careful on the brakes, Phoenix..." I muttered, fiddling with my fingernails. He was so fast.

Way too fucking fast.

"How much power did you give him?" I narrowed my eyes at the board, studying the numbers and hoping they made sense to me.

"All we have," Chris retorted, focusing on Phoenix's car on the screen.

He perfectly hit each corner, driving the ideal line with every centimeter of the track. His car appeared and disappeared out of every turn he took, fast enough to make my head spin. He really was on a flier.

And then it happened.

It was the most terrifying déjà vu of my life, watching Phoenix run over the tiniest piece of debris on the track and spin around the corner, barrel-rolling into the walls. My heart literally stopped, and every inch of my body felt numb as I pushed the headphones onto my ears, waiting and waiting and waiting.

Time felt like it didn't exist — the moment lasted for a lifetime, until finally, I heard him.

"Holy fuck, that hurt." His groan vibrated through my headset, and I watched through the screens how he circled his neck until he rested his head on the back of the seat, a deep sigh sounding through the radio. "That would've been a brilliant lap. Fuck."

"Are you okay?" Chris asked, his voice muffled. I looked at him, wondering why he sounded so weird, but couldn't find a reason for the distortion.

"I'm good." Phoenix inhaled deeply. "Tell her I'm good, Chris."

"I will, but you have to go to the medical center. That was a 35G impact."

"Yeah, I fucking feel that, Jojo. Now tell her."

"Copy." Chris turned to me, but all I could do was watch Phoenix get out of his car, steady on his feet but still holding on to the car.

"He's okay, Flo," he said, but I only looked at him when he put his hand on my shoulder, the look in his eyes sympathetic. "You can go to the medical center. I'll take care of things here."

I nodded, still feeling like I was underwater. Without really knowing what I was doing, I returned the headset and then ran down the pit lane, aiming straight for that damn medical tent. It was the bane of my existence, the trigger of all my anxiety and fears. Yet I couldn't wait to get there, couldn't wait to see Phoenix in the flesh.

My chest tightened with every second that passed, and even the breathing techniques I practically yelled at myself didn't work. It was too much.

This moment felt so much like it had ten years ago that I couldn't help but feel like it, too. For a split second, I was just a teenager worrying about the man she loved.

"Miss Nyx, this way." The guard's words made me realize I wasn't a teenager anymore. I wasn't just Jeremiah Nyx's daughter. I was Florence Nyx, head mechanic of the leading F1 team.

Nodding, I followed the man down the clean white corridor, glancing into each door, hoping to see him, to no avail. Only when we reached the last room did I spot that familiar, tousled head of hair, sweaty and disheveled, just as I loved it most.

That was all it took for my lungs to‌ breathe again, for my heart to beat violently in my chest. Unable to form any words, I just stood in the doorway, staring at the doctor's back that blocked my view from the rest of Phoenix, the white coat practically searing my retinas.

"Any headaches?" the doctor asked, shining a light into Phoenix's eyes.

"I already told you, I'm fine. Just let me leave. I need to talk to my—"

"We need to do the full physical before we can release you, Mr. McCoy. That was a heavy impact. We should—"

"I've heard you the first time, doc, but I'm telling you I won't do shit until I've talked to my girlfriend."

"I'm sure Miss Nyx knows about the procedure. She'll be harmless."

You could practically hear the way Phoenix's brow shot up. "Pretty naive of you to use the words Miss Nyx and harmless in the same sentence."

His statement made me snort, the sound sending both the doctor's and Phoenix's gaze to me. All previous amusement got stuck in my throat when I finally looked into my partner's trusting green eyes, the sincerity in them almost catching me off guard.

"Give us a moment, please, doctor," I said without thinking, my sight set on the race driver sitting on the hospital bed.

The man sighed, sliding the light-pen into his front pocket. "Five minutes." Was all he said before he left, the door closing behind me. The second the click resounded in the room, I was thrown back to teenage-me, to the girl who was so helplessly in love with a man who risked his life as a career.

The strain of the past months had exhausted me to a point that I was vulnerable and fragile, much more than I was used to, and I couldn't help the tears stinging in my eyes from seeing Phoenix in here. Even if he didn't have any visible injuries.

As always, Phoenix knew just what to do. He jumped off the bed in a heartbeat and pulled me into his arms, letting the gasoline-and-rubber scent of his racing being invade my senses. It calmed me in the most exhilarating of ways, and my body moved without consultation when it sent tears down my cheeks, my arms tightly wrapping around him.

"I'm okay, Flo. Promise. I'm good." He soothed me, his hands rubbing my back as he just let me be, allowed me to be emotional. Unlike ten years ago, I didn't force myself to be strong today. I knew it was okay to let go, to let Phoenix hold me tight. "Nothing happened. I'm really okay." He kept repeating the words, almost like a lullaby working to calm my heart.

"Nothing happened? Everything happened." I sniffed, moving back and wiping my cheeks. All it took was one look at his concerned face to restart the waterworks, salty water now flowing down my skin. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry," he said, and kissed away my tears. "I'd say it won't happen again, but I can't promise that. It's our job, after all."

It was our job. And on a normal day, I'd be fine watching him speed down the asphalt. But this wasn't just any day. This was the last race of the season, and so much was at stake.

"I know. It's just... I can't lose you, Phoenix."

"And you won't. I'm right here." He framed my face with his hands and kissed me, deeply and possessively, almost as if to prove he was still here, still alive and well. I hadn't even known how much I'd needed that kiss until my lips started moving with his, engaging and battling his heat. His rubbery scent was clouding my senses as he pulled back, and it seemed like finally, my soul calmed. "I'm not going anywhere, Flo. Not ever," he said with a finality in his tone that made my heart soar.

"I love you," I whispered.

"And I love you." He kissed my nose. "Now, let's get those check-ups done so we can get the hell out of here."

***

"It's such bullshit," Jin sighed, fixing up the front wing.

"It's regulations..." Michael paced around the garage, pinching his nose. "You think these people are Germans with how strict they are with those rules." He waved his hands around, mimicking the race director's voice. "You want to fix up your car? You have to start from the pit lane. Good luck winning the championship with that."

And even though the entire team hated the race director for enforcing those rules after we'd realized there was more damage to the car than we'd hoped, most of us still laughed at Michael's awful impression. It was the only thing we could do, really.

Yeah, it'd mean Phoenix would have to start from the back of the grid. Yes, it'd mean he'd have to fight his way through thirteen positions to win this championship.

But this was Phoenix McCoy we were talking about here.

If anyone could win this thing, it was him.

And so we spent the rest of the day preparing the car and the team for this upcoming race, knowing full-well our careers depended on the outcome of this afternoon.

"Alright, everyone. Assemble." Michael waved us into the far end of the garage, allowing all sixty-seven employees to gather in front of him.

Phoenix found his place next to me, his arm wrapping around my waist as he shot me a confident wink. The racing suit clung to his body in the most dangerous of ways, making him even more handsome than he already was.

I'd said it once, and I'd say it again: Phoenix in a race suit was the hottest, most sinful sight in existence.

"Okay, people, I know this race doesn't start the way we wanted it to," Michael addressed us, his deep voice booming through the garage. "But we have an amazing team of drivers who can make the best out of a situation. I don't want to hear any of you doubting that we will come out of this as champions, you hear me?"

People nodded, muttered their agreements, or shot Michael a thumbs-up. But apparently, that wasn't enough.

"I asked, did you hear me? " he yelled, framing his lips with his palms to spread the word.

"Yes, we did!" the team howled back, jumping onto the tradition we'd had before any race.

"Who's the best?"

"We are!"

"Who will win?"

"We will!" Even Phoenix jumped in on this one, his lips twitching into a very uncharacteristic grin.

"Hell yeah we will." Michael walked around the room, patting people on their backs and high-fiving others. "Now let's get to work. We have a championship to win."

And even though Michael had everyone's attention, I couldn't free my gaze from Phoenix, his grin still throwing me off.

"What are you laughing about?" I asked, brushing a thumb over his dimple.

Shrugging, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me in, leaving us mere inches apart. "I don't know, honestly. I just feel like I'll win."

The smile on his lips was so contagious, I couldn't help but join in. "'Cause you will."

He nodded. "I will. Wanna know why?"

I raised a brow at him. "Why?"

"'Cause I'll race my heart out for you, Florence. Forever and always."

Author's Note

Hey, folks!

I know, this one is on the shorter side of chapters, but I figured you'd enjoy it either way. I'll try and get a second one out this week -- but no promises. As always, I'm taking each day as it comes!

Hope you're all hanging in there, and that you're prepared for the inevitable ending of this rollercoaster of a book. It's so damn bittersweet for me, but more on that with the last chapter.

Lots of love to you all,

Jane