Page 203

“No way,” Ethan says, as if Zayn had said something. They’re clearly communicating on a level I don’t fully understand. I get the words, but not the meaning behind the looks.

Zayn stays put, giving no sign of backing down.

Smirking, Ethan leans slightly over me toward Zayn. “Only if it’s the last time you race.”

Then he looks at me. “And move away from my woman now.”

Laughing, Zayn raises both hands in surrender as he slides off the bed. “Deal,” he says, heading for the door. “I’ll be waiting downstairs in ten minutes.”

What?

I remain stunned, my gaze flicking between Ethan and Zayn’s back as he leaves.

SIXTY-SEVEN

Ethan

“I can’t believe I agreed to do this,” I mutter, sliding the helmet over my head, the strap pressing firmly under my chin.

“I don’t think you had a choice,” Zayn shoots back, a triumphant glint in his eyes. “Besides, you used to do this with me all the time,” he reminds me.

I groan and fasten my seatbelt. “Yeah. Only you never stopped.”

Zayn adjusts the mirror and glances at me, amusement dancing across his face. “Admit it—you missed this.”

I don’t answer. My gaze drifts to the window, to the crowd gathered on the sidelines, alive with anticipation. The noise is a steady hum, the kind that makes your chest pulse faster.

A few years ago, I would have been right there with him, tagging along, throwing caution to the wind at races like this. Completely illegal. Intensely dangerous.

We took turns—one race him, one race me. I stopped when responsibilities grew too heavy, when the weight of the obligations forced me sacrifice my own freedom.

I stopped being Ethan the man.

I became Ethan the CEO.

And yet… I missed it. Not just the racing—the thrill—but the liberation that came with it, the piercing, intoxicating freedom that made life feel limitless, even if only for a few breathless moments.

I’d scold Zayn countless times for not quitting, for dancing so close to the edge. I knew the cost of a single hesitation. Every time he raced alone, a piece of me twisted in anxious vigilance.

“Hope you still know what you’re doing,” he teases, nudging my shoulder with a grin.

I burst out laughing, loud and unrestrained. God, I had missed this—the pure, reckless joy of it.

“Considering you’re the one driving, I should be the one asking if you know what you’re doing, Zayn,” I shoot back, smirking. “I just started dating the woman of my life, I’d like to spend at least forty years beside her.”

My words strike him like a shock. His head snaps toward me, eyes wide, disbelief etched across his face.

“Fuck, man,” he mutters. “I can’t believe I’m hearing you say that.”

I say nothing. I understand him. Truthfully, I hardly believe it myself—but it’s real. Every day since Thalia came back into my life, she’s been the thought that anchors me, the certainty I didn’t know I could feel.

I know it’s only been days. I know the months before were messy, built mostly on teasing and temptation. But even then, I always knew what I wanted.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Zayn adds quickly, voice softening. “I’m thrilled for you—for both of you. All of us are. I just… I never imagined seeing you like this.”

He leans over the gear shift and pulls me into a brotherly hug. I return it without a second thought, the gesture seamless, familiar.

When we pull back, the sound of the signal announcing all cars to the starting line cuts through the tension, insistent and intense.