One Last Fling - Chapter 14
Cam
Vegas was not Cam’s speed. Too bright. Too loud. Too convinced it was the main character.
Cam had learned a lot in the three weeks since Austin—mostly about how thin the line was between promising and replaceable. Mexico City had been fine. Sixth place. Respectable. Not enough to silence anyone, but enough to keep the conversations polite. Brazil was a disaster. A reliability issue on lap twenty-two, engine cutting out like it had simply decided it was done. Cam finished the race in the garage, helmet off, staring at a timing screen that kept moving without him. It wasn’t his fault, but it also wasn’t a good look.
Now he feared this was it. Vegas. Lily’s last race. Her chance to win her championship.
His dad’s texts had shifted from encouraging to pointed. This is the one that matters. You need a result. They’re serious about Atkinson.
The team hadn’t bothered to soften it. He could tell they were looking hard at Lily. New blood. Narrative gold. History-making in a way sponsors loved.
Cam’s father had promised to fly in for practice, but he had meetings. Then he missed qualifying, too. When your own dad skipped two-thirds of the race weekend and he was also your manager and your entire future was on the line, it didn’t feel great.
But he’d be there for the race. Or so he’d promised.
Cam qualified third—a tie for his best all season. The car felt good, balanced in a way that made him believe again, just enough hope to be potentially foolish. As he walked out of the
garage, he scanned the paddock. Lily was walking up from the Academy garage,
surrounded by well-wishers.
Pole position.
She’d been untouchable out there. Cam smiled before he remembered not to. Then she looked up. The smile he’d been expecting didn’t come. Her expression was tight, her posture just a fraction
too rigid. She nodded at someone, accepted a hug, but her hand went briefly to her stomach like she was steadying herself. Nerves.
She walked away from the people she’d been talking to and he crossed the space between them without thinking, stopping just short of touching her. But damn he really wanted to take her into his arms. And it wouldn’t have to be romantic or sexual. He could really, really use a hug from a friend.
“You were flying out there,” he said.
“Yeah,” she replied, a beat too late. “Car felt great.”
It was the right answer. It just didn’t sound true. “Hanging in there?” he asked quietly.
She hesitated. “I’m tired,” she said. “Vegas is exhausting.”
“I hear you.” His chest tightened. Despite her amazing showing that day, Lily seemed off and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. The timing was not good. There was too much on the line. If Lily won—or even finished second—she took her championship. She took the seat. She took everything she’d worked for. If she finished third or lower, it was over. And he needed a podium. Needed a miracle. Needed this race to rewrite a season that had been a roller coaster—up one week, down the next.
“Good luck tomorrow,” Lily said, already stepping back.
“Yeah,” he said. “You, too.”
She walked away, shoulders squared, carrying the weight of everything she stood to lose.
Cam watched her go with a sinking feeling he couldn’t shake. Vegas was supposed to be about spectacle. Instead, it felt like the kind of place where fortunes turned. And whatever was wrong
with Lily, Cam was afraid the timing couldn’t have been worse.