Page 54 of The Fast Track

“You are so lucky being the only girl.” Savannah has her right arm looped through mine while her left is wrapped around Chloe’s waist. “The boys must fall all over themselves.”

I suppress the urge to laugh. The reality is so far from that it’s hilarious Savannah would think so.

“Tell us the juicy bits,” Chloe says. “Like, does Cameron have a girlfriend?”

“He’s so gorgeous.” Savannah sighs.

My stomach turns. “Aren’t you dating Pat?”

She giggles. “Pat’s a sweetheart, but Cam’s so nice to look at.”

“So nice,” Chloe agrees.

As if he senses we’re talking about him, Cameron calls over his shoulder, “What are you lot giggling about?”

“You,” Savannah shoots back, a flirty challenge in her voice. I’m in awe of her boldness. I could never own up to something like that—I’d be too scared to get laughed out of oblivion.

“Me? What’d I do?” He pauses so he’s walking next to us instead of the guys.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Chloe flutters her lashes at him, managing to look sultry and coy instead of like she has something in her eye, which is what I would look like if I tried that.

“Oh, come on now, you’re not gonna share?” Cameron’s dimples make an appearance again.

“What’ll you give me if I do?”

My ribs feel like someone is squeezing them. The way Cameron and Chloe are smiling at each other makes it obvious how much sense they make. Why wouldn’t Cameron be with someone gorgeous and charming? Someone he doesn’t have to compete against for sponsors or championship points? He and Chloe go together like marshmallows and hot chocolate on a cold wintry day, whereas he and I go together about as well as Hamilton and Rosberg in their Mercedes era.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Cameron asks.

We’re walking to our apartment building from the parking lot across the street where Cameron keeps his motorcycle. Georgios and Pat live in the same building too, but they all came in one car with Chloe and Savannah, so they’re dropping the girls off first.

“I did. Thanks for… everything.” I sneak a glance from the corner of my eye. “I really enjoyed dinner.”

He turns as red as the light we’re jaywalking through. “About that. D’you think… would you mind…”

I mime zipping my mouth shut. “How come you haven’t told any of the guys about your background? Sasha’s a jerk, so I get it, but Pat’s so down-to-earth.” Well. As down-to-earth as a guy whose eighteenth birthday party was held on a three-hundred-foot-long super yacht can be.

“I don’t want to play up my differences, I s’pose. They must have a hint of it, though. Pat used to invite me on holidays when we were younger, but I’d always have a summer job I had to work.”

“What was your favorite job?”

“I spent a couple of months being a full-time dog walker one year. Much better than the summer I spent shucking oysters.”

“You’re a dog person! What’s your favorite breed?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” He laughs. “Golden retriever, I guess.”

“We had a goldie growing up! Her name was Rosie.” The best part of coming home from race weekends was letting her jump all over me and sniff the new trophy. I take out my phone and tap into my favorites folder, pulling up an old picture of Rosie. She’s been gone years now, but her happy face never fails to make me smile.

“That is so adorable. Do you have more pics?”

The next photo is one of me and Rosie together. She’s older, the fur on her nose graying. I’m in full junior high mode, complete with forehead pimples and braces. I remember feeling so proud of the pink-and-red color scheme I’d asked the orthodontist to do.

“That was my awkward era,” I say, swiping past quickly.

“I knew you’d have one—all the pretty girls do.”

He says it casually, nonchalantly. Like he’s talking about the weather and not saying words that send my heart beating a million trillion times a second.