9. Brayden

Being friends with Carson is weird, and really, I'm not sure I can do it. I don't think I'm going to get through it. The kid doesn't listen. He's stubborn and pigheaded about the dumbest fucking things.

He won't listen to me about anything on or off the track. It's been one week since Jenny told me the plan, and it's not going well.

"Carson! Pull your head out of your ass and listen," I say abruptly as I try like hell to go over some strategy for today's race. We're in the pit, so no one can hear us in the stands, but I do try to keep my face neutral.

I swear to God this is going to be totally impossible.

There's no way I'm going to make it. I'm going to end up being on the news for strangling him right here around the pit crew and the crowd. But I'm weighing my options because it might be worth it. The arrogant little smirk on his face makes me homicidal.

I can't believe I told him about Jeff. I certainly didn't mean to. I don't talk about Jeff. Not ever. I don't talk about our friendship when I was a teenager or about his death. I barely even allow myself to think about it. And then I just went and blurted it out to Carson like we were just chatting about the weather.

I don't know what the hell I was thinking. He hasn't asked any more about it, though, and for that, I'm grateful. I guess I can spare his life for now. "You need to pay attention out there," I try again.

"I do pay attention, but don't you think maybe you overthink a little bit?"

I stare at him—well, glare is more like it. Both of us are already in our jumpsuits for the race. Zipped up and ready to go. It's over a hundred degrees today, and I'm sweating my balls off and am annoyed by that. But that doesn't even compare to how irritated I am right now with Carson. "That's not a thing. You could die out there. You could kill someone."

I swear to God, his eyes roll, and I almost poke them out. "You got to live a little, Brayden. Come on. We have the best job in the whole damn world. You overthink it, and there's no way you're going to be a champion. You love it, and the track will love you back."

"Jesus. Fuck." I grip the bridge of my nose, trying to breathe deep. "The track is a track. It can't love you. But it can kill you if you drive with your head up your ass. And more than that, it could kill someone else."

He just huffs, his face showing his annoyance. Well, the feeling is for sure mutual. But then I look over Carson's shoulder, and I see Jenny's stern face. Goddammit, she's like a hawk. She has her hip cocked in annoyance, and I can feel her telling me to get it together.

I take another deep breath and force a smile onto my face. Carson looks momentarily horrified until he must catch on to what's happening. "Jenny watching?"

I nod my head, keeping the smile in place. "Yup. Which means the world is too. And we're friends."

"The very best." His smile is way brighter than mine, and I'm sure it even looks more natural, which annoys the shit out of me. But I can't let my smile fade. Jenny gives me a clipped nod, telling me I've been a good boy, and I want to vomit.

"Look, just don't do anything stupid out there, okay?"

"You think Mahomes says that to Kelce?" he asks with an easy laugh that makes me want to punch him.

I just stare at him. "Probably."

He laughs and smacks me on the shoulder before wrapping his arm around me, knowing damn well I can't push him away. "Yeah, he probably does. Okay, let's do this thing."

"Try to get better than twentieth," I jab, but he's grinning as we make our way to our cars. Not bothered.

Never fucking bothered.

What the hell must that be like? I'll never know. Everything drives me crazy. Especially Carson fucking Hayes.

But when the crowd can see him clearly and he starts his waving, winking bullshit, it's apparent I'm the only one. They love him. The crowd eats him up. Another thing to add to my list of things that annoy the shit out of me about Carson.

He doesn't even really have to work for it. He just goes out there with that ridiculous smile, and they eat it up.

But when I go out there, I get the same amount of screaming. I've still got it.

This rookie has nothing on me, damn it.

The cars start, the engines roaring, and the crowd is drowned out. I do love the crowd, don't get me wrong. I wouldn't be here without them, and I sure as hell wouldn't have all the things I have now without them. But this is the part I love.

Where it's just me behind the wheel. It's euphoric, and yes, I do love the race. I do live when I'm in this car. But I've earned that right, and I still pay attention. I'm not going to wreck anyone on purpose. I avoid wrecks when I can.

The thought of getting in a wreck actually sends a shiver down my spine, but I push it away. I won't let Carson get under my skin or memories of Jeff either. Of the ambulance and the reporters everywhere. Of the questions and riding to the hospital, knowing he didn't look good. Knowing my friend was gone long before anyone told me.

I can't focus on any of those things.

I have a race to win.