The city lights flickered through the windshield as Dax pulled into Erin's driveway, the smooth hum of the M3 settling into idle.

Erin stretched slightly, rolling her shoulders before glancing over at Dax.

"Thanks for driving."

Dax smirked. "See? I can behave."

"Barely." She grabbed her keys and slid out, closing the door behind her.

Dax followed, making his way over to his Supra, parked just a few feet away. "You good for the night?" he asked, tossing his keys up and catching them.

"Yeah. I'll call you in the morning." Erin smirked. "That is, unless Jinx blows up the group chat first."

Dax chuckled. "Likely." He slid into his driver's seat, rolled the window down, and gave her one last look.

"Get some sleep, Ace."

"You too, Carter."

With that, he pulled away, Supra growling softly as it disappeared down the street.

Erin exhaled, stretching her arms overhead, already thinking about a shower and crashing for the night.

And then, a low, unmistakable rumble. The distinct sound of a motorcycle approaching.

She froze. Turning her head, she saw it.

A sleek black Ducati rolled up slowly onto the driveway, the rider dressed in dark jeans, a black leather jacket, and a tinted helmet that obscured his face.

Her stomach tightened.

Ghost.

The engine cut off, leaving only the sound of the city in the distance.

For a long moment, neither of them moved.

Erin's hands curled into fists at her sides, her heartbeat a little too fast.

She wasn't sure if it was unease, confusion, or something else entirely.

Ghost finally swung a leg off the bike, standing upright. Then, slowly, he reached up, unbuckling his helmet and pulling it off. The night air hit his face, dark eyes watching her carefully. "Long time, Ace."

Erin swallowed, jaw clenching. "What the hell are you doing here?"

The night air felt heavier now, thick with things left unsaid as Ghost stood on Erin's driveway, helmet tucked under his arm, dark eyes watching her.

She still hadn't moved. Still hadn't decided if she was pissed off, uneasy, or just too damn tired to deal with this tonight.

"You gonna keep staring at me like I'm a ghost, or are we gonna talk?" Ghost finally said, his voice calm, unreadable.

Erin exhaled sharply, arms crossed. "I don't know yet."

Ghost smirked. "Well, at least you haven't punched me."

"Yet."

He chuckled, running a hand through his messy dark hair, gaze flicking toward the house. "Can we do this inside? I promise I won't bite."

Erin hesitated.

Her gut said letting Ghost into her space was dangerous. Not in a physical way, Ghost wasn't a threat like that. But it was bringing her past into her present. And she wasn't sure she was ready for that. But, against her better judgment, she sighed, rubbing her temple. "Fine. But don't touch my shit."

Ghost smirked, following her inside. "I would never."

The second Erin locked the door behind them, Ghost took a slow glance around her place.

Minimal clutter, the faint smell of engine grease and coffee, walls decorated with old car posters and race memorabilia.

"Feels like you," he murmured, hands in his jacket pockets.

"You expected something different?" Erin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know. It's been a long time, Ace." He tilted his head, studying her. "You ever feel like you moved halfway across the world but still ended up exactly where you started?"

Erin hesitated, then shrugged. "Sometimes."

She gestured toward the sofa. "Sit. You're making me nervous standing there."

Ghost smirked. "That's new."

"Shut up."

He dropped onto the couch, stretching out comfortably, while Erin made her way to the kitchen. "Drink?" she called.

"If you've got whiskey, I won't say no."

She scoffed. "Water it is." A few minutes later, she tossed him a bottle, sinking into the armchair across from him. "Alright. Talk. Why the hell are you in LA?"

Ghost twisted the cap off, taking a sip before answering. "Work, mostly. Some side things. But I wanted to find you."

Erin stiffened slightly. "Why?"

Ghost leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Because I knew you'd never come back. And I had questions."

She raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

His eyes held hers, serious now. "Jamie. The crash. The way you disappeared right after."

Her stomach twisted. "Ghost—"

"I'm not here to stir shit up, Ace." He exhaled, voice quieter now. "I just need to know if you're okay."

Erin blinked. Out of everything she expected him to say... that wasn't it. For a second, she didn't know how to answer. She wasn't lying on the floor of her apartment feeling like the world had ended anymore. She wasn't avoiding every reminder of Jamie. But she also wasn't sure if she was really okay. So, she settled for honesty. "I don't know. But I'm trying."

Ghost nodded slowly, as if that was enough for now.

The conversation drifted from there, sliding into easier topics. Old memories, the UK car scene, mutual friends who'd moved on. At some point, Erin realised how late it was.

Ghost noticed too. "You want me to head out?" he asked, stretching.

She rubbed her face, exhaustion finally catching up. "Nah, it's late. Just crash here."

Ghost smirked. "On the couch, I assume?"

Erin threw a pillow at him. "Obviously."

Ghost chuckled, catching it. "Appreciate it, Ace."

She muttered something under her breath and headed for her room, shutting the door behind her.

Erin woke up to the sound of a car pulling into her driveway. Her eyes snapped open.

Dax.

"Shit." She rolled out of bed fast, heart hammering, still half-asleep. A glance at her phone.

Dax: "Be there in five."

Her stomach dropped. Ghost was still here.

She threw on a hoodie, barely ran a hand through her hair before storming out into the living room only to see Ghost, still on the couch, one arm draped over his face, snoring lightly.

"Shit, shit, shit," she muttered. She grabbed a pillow and shoved it into his face.

Ghost let out a muffled groan. "What the—"

"Get up. Now."

Ghost sat up groggily, running a hand through his hair. "You always wake people up this violently?"

Erin ignored him, glancing out the window.

Dax's Supra had just pulled up.

"You need to get out of here before he comes in," she hissed.

Ghost, now fully awake and definitely amused, smirked. "You scared of your boyfriend catching you with me?"

Erin glared. "No. But I don't want to deal with that conversation before coffee."

Ghost chuckled, but stood up, grabbing his jacket. "Relax, Ace. I'm not looking to cause problems."

A knock at the door. Erin's stomach flipped.

Ghost grabbed his helmet off the counter, smirking at her one last time. "I'll see you around."

And then, just as she turned for the door he was gone.

She took a deep breath, exhaled, and opened it.

Dax stood there, coffee in hand, smirking. "Mornin', Calloway."

Erin forced a smile, trying not to look guilty as hell. "Morning." And just like that, her entire day was already off to a chaotic start.

Dax had made himself way too comfortable at Erin's place. He was stretched out on her sofa, one arm behind his head, flipping through car listings on his phone while a rerun of an old racing documentary played in the background.

Erin, meanwhile, sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the coffee table, picking at the remains of the breakfast he had brought over.

It should've been a normal, easy day but her stomach was in knots. Because Ghost had been here just hours ago. And Dax didn't know.

She tried to ignore it, tried to just enjoy the calmness of the moment, but the more time passed, the more it felt like the walls were closing in.

And Dax, as always, noticed. "Alright, what's up?" he asked, not even looking up from his phone.

Erin blinked. "What?"

Dax raised an eyebrow. "You keep fidgeting. You barely ate. You haven't even made fun of me once today. That's weird."

Erin exhaled, resting her head against the table. "You're gonna be mad."

Dax sighed, locking his phone and sitting up properly now, his full attention on her. "You know I hate when you start a sentence like that."

She hesitated for a second longer, then just ripped off the damn Band-Aid. "Ghost came over last night."

Dax's expression didn't change at first. He just leaned back slightly, rubbing his jaw. "Ghost."

Erin nodded slowly. "Yeah. He just... showed up. Said he wanted to talk."

Dax was silent for a beat, his face unreadable. Then, to her absolute shock, he just sighed. "Okay."

Erin stared at him. "...Okay?"

Dax tilted his head. "Yeah. Okay."

"No yelling? No telling me I should've thrown him out?"

Dax exhaled, rubbing his temple. "Look, Ace. A few weeks ago? Yeah, I probably would've lost my shit. But I told you, I trust you."

Her stomach tightened, but this time it wasn't from guilt. She had been bracing for an argument, for frustration, for tension. Instead, Dax just... accepted it. She wasn't used to that. She wasn't used to someone trusting her like this. "He stayed on the couch," she added, voice quieter now. "I didn't want to tell you this morning 'cause I thought you'd be pissed."

Dax smirked slightly. "You mean when you looked guilty as hell when you opened the door?"

Erin groaned, covering her face. "I was hoping you didn't notice."

"I notice everything, Calloway."

She let out a slow breath, finally looking at him again. "You really okay with this?"

Dax shrugged. "I don't like the guy, but I also know you can handle yourself."

Erin studied him for a second longer. Then, finally, her shoulders relaxed.

Dax reached for his coffee, completely casual again now. "So, did he say what he actually wanted? Or was this just an unannounced visit for old time's sake?"

Erin exhaled. "Mostly about Jamie. About me leaving. I think he just wanted to see if I was actually okay."

Dax nodded slowly. "And are you?"

She hesitated, then nodded. "I think I will be."

Dax smirked. "Good. 'Cause if he pulls any shit, I'm still kicking his ass."

Erin snorted, finally letting out a real laugh. "Deal."

And just like that, the tension disappeared.

Dax leaned back again, flipping his phone open. "Now, since we're being honest... I found this clean R32 for sale."

Erin rolled her eyes. "Dax, no."

"I'm just saying, we need a new project."

"We literally just finished one."

"Yeah, but I get bored fast."

Erin sighed. "You're impossible."

Dax smirked, completely unbothered. "And yet, you love me."

She grabbed a throw pillow and tossed it at his face.

He wasn't wrong.

The morning haze had lifted, the city outside Erin's apartment buzzing with life again, but inside, things were calm.

Dax was still stretched out on her sofa, scrolling through car listings like it was his full-time job. Erin, curled up in her chair, had finally given up trying to ignore him.

Because now, the conversation had taken a turn. "You're really thinking about selling the Supra?" Erin asked, horrified.

Dax smirked slightly, but there was something serious behind it. "Maybe. I've had it for years. Feels like time for something different."

Erin stared at him like he had just told her he was moving to Mars. "Dax. Your Supra is your entire personality."

Dax chuckled, finally looking up at her. "That's a little dramatic."

"No. It's not." Erin crossed her arms. "That car is what made you, you. I mean, come on, Carter, half the street scene knows you because of it."

Dax shrugged. "Yeah, but I've been thinking, what if it's time to move on? Get something new? Something faster?"

Erin's horror only deepened. "You sound like Jinx right now. That's terrifying."

Dax laughed. "Look, I'm just saying, it's a possibility."

Erin shook her head, still processing the betrayal. "If you sell the Supra, I'm not speaking to you for a week."

Dax smirked. "Noted."

Then, without missing a beat, "So, what about your M3? You keeping it?"

Erin exhaled sharply, leaning back against the chair. "I don't know."

Dax raised an eyebrow. "That's not like you. Usually, you either love a car or don't give a shit about it."

"Exactly. And I can't decide." Erin ran a hand through her hair, looking out the window. "The M3... it's been good to me. Got me through a lot. But now that the Silvia's almost done and the R34's sitting there waiting... I don't know if I need it anymore."

Dax nodded, understanding. "But?"

Erin sighed. "But I love driving it. It's got that perfect balance of power and control. I don't know if I'd ever get that back in something else."

Dax smirked slightly. "Sounds like you already made your decision."

She shot him a look. "You're just saying that because you don't want me to sell it before you sell the Supra."

Dax shrugged. "Maybe."

Erin sighed, staring at the ceiling. "Why is this so hard?"

Dax leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head. "Because cars aren't just cars to people like us. They're part of who we are."

Erin let that sit for a second, then smirked. "Damn. That was deep."

Dax grinned. "I have my moments."

She rolled her eyes, grabbing the nearest cushion and tossing it at him.

"Fine. I'll keep the M3. But you?" She narrowed her eyes. "You better not sell the Supra, Carter. I swear to God."

Dax caught the pillow effortlessly, smirking. "We'll see."

She wasn't so sure she liked that answer.

About half an hour later, the conversation had drifted into other things, random garage gossip, Jinx's latest dumb ideas, and Rev's sudden obsession with imported espresso machines.

Dax was still stretched out on the couch.

Erin was staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. "Wait. Hold on."

Dax glanced up lazily. "What?"

Erin sat up, eyes sharp with an idea forming fast. "Why are we even thinking about selling these cars like normal people?"

Dax raised an eyebrow. "Because that's how selling cars works?"

She waved a hand. "Yeah, yeah, but we're not normal people. We literally just built a car that sold for nearly five million dollars."

Dax's smirk grew slightly. "Alright. I'm listening."

Erin leaned forward. "What if we sell them through Kane? Or, better yet, use them as showroom pieces for him?"

Dax narrowed his eyes slightly, thinking it over.

She was onto something.

Kane's world wasn't just about high-roller builds, it was about status, exclusivity, and power. His buyers didn't just want fast cars, they wanted cars with a story, a name attached to them.

And Dax's Supra? Erin's M3? They were legends in their own right.

Dax exhaled, rubbing his jaw. "You think Kane would go for it?"

Erin smirked. "Kane would be stupid not to. If he wants his showroom to actually mean something, he needs cars that already have a name behind them. We're not just selling metal and horsepower. We're selling history."

Dax let out a low whistle, impressed despite himself. "Damn, Calloway. That's a hell of a pitch."

She grinned. "Well, if you're not gonna stop me from winding Kane up, I might as well make it profitable."

Dax chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright. We set up a meeting. See what Kane's willing to offer."

"And if he lowballs us?"

Dax smirked. "Then we'll remind him exactly who built that Lambo."

Erin leaned back against the couch, satisfied.

This could work.