“Shit,” he says, pressing his lips into a tight line as his eyes come back to mine. He lets out a heavy breath. “I guess I’m getting my dick pierced.”
Fuck, yeah.
Epilogue
Maxen
10 Years Later
The cars speed around the track as I stand up in the VIP section with my wife, staring down at the incredible raceway we’ve built over the past ten years. It started with that first race which had a fucking awesome turnout and got bigger and bigger each week.
We got to the point where the city was trying to shut us down, but there was such a following and support from the community, that they had no choice but to keep us in business. All my approvals finally came in and from there, the place just kept growing.
Ten years on and I’m looking down at our first televised event. I can’t fucking believe it. The place has tripled in size. It’s gone from a cool track on my property to a multi-million dollar business and I’ve never been so proud.
My parents weren’t too impressed when they figured out what I was doing with the property but when they saw the potential and the money I was bringing in; they were suddenly on board.
I’ve been blown away by the amount of support I’ve received from my family and friends and it shows as they all stand around me, making the effort to come out and watch the race with their kids running around our feet.
The music is pumping and the stands are at capacity as we watch some of the biggest names in racing tear their way around my track and help to put Broken Hill on the map. “This is fucking epic, man,” Nate says, clapping a hand on my back as he glances up at one of the many screens, getting a close-up shot of how one of our celebrity drivers handles Nate’s favorite corner.
I nod in agreement as I look over the raceway. There are hundreds of cameras, pit crews, and my whole management team running around and making sure everything runs smoothly, hell, there’s even a fucking restaurant having its grand opening in a month’s time.
I glance across at Nate, never feeling so fucking proud. “Thanks, man. That means a lot.”
Nate leans onto the railings, watching the race in silence as Tora comes and squishes in between us. Nate instantly curls his arms around her before adjusting himself and sliding her small body in front of him so they can watch the track together. “I’ve got to say, Maxen,” Tora says as she leans back into her husband. “You finally did it. I’m impressed.”
I gawk at her. “No way,” I laugh. “Don’t tell me that after ten fucking years, you’re finally willing to accept that I’m not the same dickhead from high school?”
She rolls her eyes but can’t stop the wide grin stretching across her lips. “You’ll always be a dickhead to me, Max,” she teases.
I shake my head in exasperation and resist every little comeback that sits on the end of my tongue. After all, she’s just trying to get a rise out of me. Tora and I have been cool since that day we talked shit out back when she was in college. Sure, it took her a good six months to realize that I wasn’t going to hurt her best friend, and when she finally came to that realization, our relationship finally got a chance to mend.
“Hey, lay off my husband,” I hear from the most angelic voice just seconds before my beautiful wife steps into my side, right where she belongs.
I instantly pull her into my arms as Tora grins at Brooke. “I can’t help it,” she laughs. “It’s just too easy.”
“Well you better help it,” she warns. “Because between you and Nate, you two have a whole lot of shit that I could use against you, and believe me, I’d have a shitload of fun doing it.”
Tora narrows her eyes at her best friend. “You wouldn’t.”
Brooke raises her chin and smirks proudly. “You want to find out?”
The girls stare at each other, both trying their hardest not to be the first to break, but knowing this could go on all fucking night, I pull Brooke tighter into my side and steal her attention. “How’s Mila?” I ask. “Did she go down?”
“Yeah,” she says, holding up the baby monitor in her hand while getting that dreamy awed look in her eyes that she gets whenever someone brings up our little girl. “She just needed a little cuddle and then she was fine.”
My brows furrow in concern and I search my wife’s eyes for some kind of answers. After all, my baby usually just lays straight down and puts herself to sleep like Brooke usually does after a night of hard drinking. “Was she alright?” I ask.