My hands are shaking when I reach into my bag, and I’m flustered, not able to find the folder I’m looking for fast enough. When I finally do, I lift it out, and kiss it—then hold it tightly to my chest.

“You know, my boss has this theory,” I start, leaning back along Jeff’s desk for support for fear that my legs are going to give out at any moment from shaking so badly. “He says the garage is the heart of the project. And he’s kinda right, you know?”

I force myself to stand again and walk closer to Cody, kneeling down once I’m next to him, so I’m at his level while he’s sitting. “But I think the heart of this,” I say, gesturing to the screen, and then settling my gaze back on his eyes. “The reason any of this, any of us, are here at all…is right here,” I say, pressing my hand flat to Cody’s chest.

Cody holds my gaze, and I watch in wonder as the small crinkles form on either side of his eyes. The way he looks at me is from a dream—the one I had every night we were apart. The one I wished for at night as a teenager, and the one I convinced myself didn’t exist when Mac left. And I never want to be without it again.

“Charlie,” he breathes, but I kiss him quickly to stop him from saying more, and when I pull away I leave the folder in his lap. “What is this?” he laughs, flipping it open and thumbing through the dozens of documents, all stamped with his name and LLC.

“It’s a gift. And I can’t take full credit for it,” I say, nestling into his side on his lap again while he continues to look through the papers. “I made a call early this morning, while you were still sleeping, and Trevor emailed these to me. It’s your property documents, only one slight tweak. He had your LLC all set up, so he just changed it. All you need to do to apply for a lease with request-to-own is file these papers with the company listed on the back the second the city approves the project. And they’ll be expecting your call.”

Calling Trevor this morning was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, even harder than admitting my feelings for Cody in the first place. I didn’t expect him to answer, and when he did, I expected him to hang up the moment I started talking. But he didn’t, and I think it’s because it was for Cody.

I can see the conflict on Cody’s face as he closes the folder again and looks at the blank cover along his lap. I’m quick to squeeze his hand so he’ll look at me again, partly because I still worry that if he thinks about it too much, he’ll feel guilty about betraying Trevor. But I know when we lock eyes that he’s in this as much as I am.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he says, leaning his forehead against mine and closing his eyes.

“You found me,” I say, my words meaning so much more than they do at the surface. “You found me, and I found myself.”

THE END

Epilogue

Cody’s point of view:

“Cody, I’ve got this covered. Get your ass in the truck and over to the arena. You’re going to be late,” Gabe says, pushing me away from the ’72 Shelby we’ve been elbows deep in since Tuesday.

“Okay, I know, I know. You’ve got my cell?” I say, wiping the oil from my hands and digging in my pocket for the keys.

“Yes, I’ve got your cell. And yes…I’ll call you if anything goes wrong. Like, I suddenly forget how to turn on a f**king car or change a set of brake pads,” Gabe ribs me.

He’s right—he’s been working on cars longer than I have. It’s just that I haven’t left the shop for an entire day since the moment we officially opened a year ago. I keep waiting for Charlie to yell at me about going to work all the time, but she never does. She just smiles—like a goddamned angel. It’s that smile that makes me come home every day at five, no matter what.

She even smiled when I told her what I was doing at the pits. And when I told her I had a sponsor, and I was going to compete again. The only time she didn’t smile was when she woke up last night from a nightmare. She wouldn’t say what it was, but I know she’s afraid to see me ride again. She never goes to practices, and I invite her all the time.

But she’s going to be there today.

I’ve been a f**king head case over this. Everything’s been great at practice, but I can’t shake this feeling like something’s going to go wrong the moment I jump in competition. It would be the dumbest way to lose everything I’ve fought so hard for, but I can’t back away from it. It’s like a dare, staring me in the face, taunting me—maybe I’m an adrenaline junkie, I don’t know. But I just know that I need to show the world, maybe show myself, that I can do this still, and be the best, despite my f**king leg.