Epilogue

EPILOGUE

" F uck, fuck, fuck! Fuck that little prick . I should have known he would do this. He had so many demands! I should beat some manners into him," Noah rants as I wipe my hands on a rag and join the others watching him.

"What's wrong, boss?" I call despite the others gesturing for me not to interrupt.

Noah turns toward me, looking more flustered than I have ever seen him. "I'll tell you what, that new fucking racer we hired? He joined another team. We have one week until the qualifiers for the championship, and we have to enter two racers, and I only have one!" he yells, his chest heaving.

My eyebrows rise. I've spent weeks painting that car for the little brat, and he left? Shit, did he get a better offer? That's so fucked up. Starfire Racing is the best, so why would he ruin his shot like that? If anyone is reaching that title, it's us, and he knew it, which is why he came on board. I suppose it doesn't matter now, but I think Noah might explode if he gets any more worked up.

"I know someone," I tell him, trying to hide my smile. "He's one hell of a racer. A bit of an ass, but he'll fit right in, and he's been dying for a chance to race for this team. "

He's been down lately, distant and worried about his future. Some might call me a good friend, but I'm just sick of him turning up drunk at my door. This might give him purpose again and stop him from interrupting my and Evan's date nights.

"Call him," Noah demands, striding over.

Grabbing my phone, I hit his number. "Skylar?" I say when there's a groan.

"I didn't vomit in your bushes. That was Evan," he mutters, his voice thick.

"Are you hung over? Never mind. I have an opportunity for you. Starfire needs a racer. Do you want in?"

There's silence for a moment, and then I hear heavy breathing. "Are you fucking with me?"

"Nope. You get one shot. Don't fuck it up. Give it your all and be here tomorrow." Hanging up, I smile at Noah. "He's in. You got yourself a new racer. Just don't say I didn't warn you."