Page 38 of Ignition Rites

She laughs softly and lets me go.

Movement catches my eye above her shoulder.

Cassian’s box.

The dark glass gives me nothing, but if he saw that, he knows exactly what everyone else just saw — and unlike the college girls, Cassian knows what public claims mean inside this family.

A ripple moves through the crowd. Phones rise and fall. A whistle comes from somewhere near the pits, followed by somebody laughing like they’ve been waiting for this longer than I have.

Nico’s voice cuts through the rest.

“Well. That answers that.”

I finally look his way.

He gives me two thumbs up.

“Enfin,” he calls.

I give him one finger.

“Très mature.”

“Je t’aime aussi.”

“Rafe!” somebody shouts from staging.

“Coming!”

Lo laughs again.

Worth it.

I squeeze her hand once before I go.

Then I run my heat, and for the first time all season, my hands are steady the whole way down the strip.

Ash is waiting directly in front of my bike when I pull back into the pits, arms crossed so there’s no pretending he happened to be standing nearby.

I cut the engine, and the quiet afterward lands harder than the race noise.

“Get it out of your system,” I say, pulling off my helmet. “Whatever speech you practiced while I was gone.”

“You kissed her in front of the entire crowd.”

“Good opening. Strong use of facts.”

“Rafe.”

“Sorry.”

I am not sorry.

“In front of everyone,” he says. “You didn’t tell me. You didn’t even give me a heads-up. I had to hear it from three different people before I made it back from the stands.”

“Would you have wanted a heads-up?”

“Yes.”