28. Carson

No. No. No.

This isn't happening. I run to Brayden's wrecked car and pray with everything inside me that he's okay. It was a bad wreck. His fucking car flipped twice that I saw. He has to be okay.

It's been a month of hell, where we've had to play it cool. Barely looking at each other but still keeping up the bromance charade. Make sure we look like friends but not that we want to fuck each other senseless.

We find moments alone. We spend the weeks at his house behind closed doors, being a couple, but in public, we always have to be on. Brayden told me about his meeting with Miles. Told me that he knows about us.

It feels so damn hopeless, but Jenny has assured us she's working on it. That we just need to hold on a little longer. And now look. He's in a smashed-up car with the paramedics trying to assess his injuries to see if they can remove him without doing any more damage.

He could die.

And the world wouldn't have ever known he's my entire world. That I'm so damn in love with him, it hurts. They finally get him out of the car, carefully checking him over. The crowd is deadly silent.

I think about his friend Jeff. How, even with all the safety equipment, he still died. It still happens. You can't fight fate.

I can barely breathe as other racers and the pit crew surround him. Waiting to hear if he's okay. Praying quietly to ourselves.

Sebastian places his hand on my shoulder in comfort, but it feels like my heart might beat right out of my chest. He can't die. He's so damn strong. He can't die.

Finally, he's able to stand, looking beat-up but alive. So very alive. They're telling them they're going to take him to the hospital to get him looked at, and Brayden is waving them off. "I'm fine. Just sore. The safety equipment did its job." His eyes are searching around, and I know he's looking for me.

When our eyes meet, that's it. My control snaps, and I can't take it anymore. I'm rushing toward him with my arms out and pulling him into a tight embrace. His arms wrap around me, and I sob into his chest.

"You're alive," I barely breathe out.

"Hey, I'm okay. Carson, I'm fine," he says, keeping his voice low. But I can barely breathe, holding onto him as tight as I can, feeling his warmth and his strength. "Baby," he says softly. "People are watching."

I don't care. I can't care. I could have lost him today. "I don't care," I say out loud, grabbing his face in my hands and looking into his eyes before crashing my lips against his. I feel his hesitance for just a moment before he relents and kisses me hard, letting me devour him. Letting me feel that he really is alive. And mine. So damn mine. "I love you," I say and kiss him again, tears running down my face. "I love you so damn much."

"I love you too," he says, but I can hear the worry in his voice, and I just don't care. I'll find something else to do for a career. Maybe I can go back to dirt-track racing. Who knows? I don't give a fuck right now.

"Boys." It's as effective as cold water being tossed on us when I hear Miles's voice behind us. I close my eyes and refuse to look at him. "I'm glad you're okay, Brayden." His voice sounds off, but I know he's putting on a show for the cameras. "I'm sure you're both feeling an adrenaline rush."

Ah, he's trying to find an explanation. Fuck. Him. I turn around now, glaring at him. "I'm just glad my boyfriend is okay."

There are a couple of stunned gasps around us, several cameras pointed our way, but I don't care. Miles's eyes narrow, and his jaw clenches. "Don't."

"Don't what?" I say, challenging him, and I feel Brayden's hands on my hips. "I'm not ashamed of my relationship with Brayden." I can feel his hand smoothing over my hips, supporting me. Always having my back. If I thought for a second he wouldn't want to come out, I'd keep my mouth shut. But I know he's been keeping quiet for me.

No more.

I won't ask him to hide for me.

Miles looks like he might turn purple with rage. He's well on his way to a grape color, but I don't care. I find Jenny's eyes—she's standing near Leslie, Cash Phillp's wife and sports reporter—her eyes on me, but she's not angry. She looks ... approving.

Thank. Fuck. Someone actually has our back.

Leslie, who I don't know well, but know enough to know that she's my favorite reporter, pushes through the crowd, her camera crew behind her. "So this bromance we've all been obsessed with is actually a romance?" She's saying it lightly, with a happy tone and smile. Guiding her audience. Letting them know this isn't a scandal but instead, something beautiful.

And I could fucking kiss her right now.

I look over my shoulder at Brayden, who smiles and kisses my nose affectionately before redirecting my attention to the camera. "It started out as a friendship, but it became so much more." I lick my lips nervously because I do care about my fans. "We didn't like keeping it a secret."

"So why did you?" Leslie asks, but it isn't accusatory. It's more about giving us a platform to speak our truth.

Brayden does it for us. "We weren't sure if we'd be accepted. It's a scary thing, even now, in this day and age. You don't know how people will react." His strong hands move to my shoulders. "And even though it shouldn't matter that we're both men, we know it'll likely matter to some."

"Not to anyone who matters," Leslie says firmly, letting everyone know where she stands. "I, for one, cannot wait to see the cute couple photos, now that we all know it's so much more than a bromance." She winks at us. "I thought you both were cute before, but to know you're in love,"—she smirks at the camera—"that's a beautiful thing no one should ever have to hide."

My heart is thumping hard in my chest as I melt back into Brayden. Her attention turns to him too. "So Brayden, what the hell happened on that last turn? You were well on your way to first place."

Brayden chuckles at that, and they go on with the quick interview before Brayden is rushed off to the hospital, where it's confirmed that he's totally fine. He has a couple of bruises, but he's fine.

Thank. Fuck.

The news is everywhere about us being a couple, and as much as I want to ignore it, I can't help perusing the articles and posts on my phone while he gets signed out of the hospital. Surprisingly, for the most part, they all seem supportive.

Of course, there are some assholes, but like Leslie said, they don't matter.

If my career is over, I'm surprisingly okay with that. I'll find something else to do.

There was a time I didn't think I could love anything more than racing, but I was so very wrong.

My love for Brayden outweighs my love of racing by a longshot.

Crazy.