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“Finishing my business degree. I’ve got a semester and a bit left. Just trying to take as much repair work as possible right now to save up for another restoration piece.”

We continued talking about opportunities for people like me just getting started. The general consensus was that they were interested in watching me present my restoration and describe my choices and my process. I wasn’t scheduled to do my thing until early Saturday afternoon, but it was nice to know it wouldn’t be a dud. I was confident in my ability to explain the project because I’d fucking loved restoring that bike. I could talk about it for days. Having a chance to show it off was a dream come true.

I returned to my hotel room after midnight again and checked my texts.

Dalton

Hope it’s going well. Been following Tanner’s IG posts. Looks like a killer crowd, man.

I texted him back, knowing he’d still be up after the adrenaline of the fights.

You’ll never believe who I had dinner with tonight. The Throttle and Thread guys.

Dalton

You fucking kidding??

I grinned at my phone.

Nope. They know Tanner. Heard about the bike. They’re coming to see my presentation tomorrow.

Dalton

Fuck, Ells. That’s fucking amazing. Proud of you.

It meant something to me that he’d say that. For all that Dalton and I were clashing about the Pit and his new underworld associations, I loved him.

How’d the fights go?

Dalton

Moved to tomorrow night. Don’t worry about it.

I stared at the message. He made it sound like that was a thing he did from time to time. Like it was no big deal.

But he had never moved fight night before.

Why?

Dalton

Because of Winn-Dixie, asshole. Tell me more about Rafe and Jackson. They as cool in person as they are on TV?

I let the fight thing go. If he told me he’d moved it because Jack Youngblood told him to, I’d probably lose my shit.

Anyway, I honestly didn’t care. I was too stoked about the connections I’d made tonight.

I messaged back and forth with him a bit more before switching over to my text chain with Bett.

Babygirl

Hope you had a good night. I want to talk to you about something important, but I need to focus on the game tomorrow afternoon first. Maybe call me before you go to dinner tomorrow night? I should be done by four-thirty or five.

I knew better than to text him back this late. Even if he didn’t have his phone on Do Not Disturb or had made an exception for me, I didn’t want him to lose sleep before an important game. Demere already wasn’t favored to win, so I anticipated a stressful day ahead, which would only be made worse with sleep deprivation mixed in.

I forced myself to shower and get to bed, falling asleep quickly after the long day of being “on” with a bunch of strangers.

When I woke up, I shot him a quick text wishing him luck, though I knew he wouldn’t be looking at his texts until after the game, and started my day.