Adrenaline

22 | legacy

Brendon picks me up from the airport and takes us back to the hotel we're staying at for the race. His parents' house is an hour away from the city, so it's easier for him to stay at Windsor-provided lodging instead of making that commute.

Since I land late at night, we don't do anything except find a place to eat dinner. We settle for burgers and fries, stopping at a park to eat in the car. The weather is warmer than last time but not unbearable. Brendon plays music at a low volume to set the mood and keep us from plummeting into silence. Not that it's something we struggle with together. I like our silences.

By the following day, I wake for breakfast at his parents' house, trying not to overthink. Part of me wants to call Maverick to help talk some of the nerves out of me, especially since he's met Everleigh's family, but we haven't spoken yet.

I smooth my hands over my red sundress. It's light, a comfortable length, and the kind of dress that seems appropriate for meeting someone's family. But I throw a leather jacket over it because habits are hard to kill.

"What do we think?" I ask when Brendon arrives at my hotel room, giving him a spin. The flimsy material lifts into the air with the spin like waves circling me.

Unlike the last time, Brendon does let his eyes wander, tethering his gaze to the melodic movement. Even though I might be playing too close to the sun right now, I can't help but light up at the way his gaze appreciates me. Not as an object to obtain, but as a vision to explore.

"Beautiful. Mom will love it."

When we get into the car, Brendon rolls down the windows and lets the breeze carry us along the highway. Wind flowing in my hair, not a care in the world, I feel at ease, which is something I can appreciate.

At one point, I turn from looking out the window to catch Brendon watching me. Just for a second. But it's a second I want to replay over and over again.

When we arrive at his parents' house, the nerves flood back. I'm not sure why. It's not like we're dating. That's a different kind of terrifying I've only had to deal with once before and it didn't end well. We're just friends having brunch. His sister is a fan. No big deal.

"Shit." I try to turn around but Brendon stops me using his body as a shield. "I didn't bring anything. I should have brought something. Wine. Flowers. Something."

"You're a guest." He pushes me forward. "They're not expecting anything. Mom is also very picky about her wine."

"That's what they want you to think. Gonna think I'm some stuck-up American who doesn't have any manners."

"You're Hawaiian. They would never lump you in with that title."

I could kiss him right then and there.

"Are you saying they have a grudge against Americans then? 'Cause valid."

He laughs.

It's not a massive house but nice enough I can tell his family grew up comfortably, which makes sense considering how much money it takes to have a successful career in karting. I imagine Brendon as a little kid playing in the yard out front, driving around a toy car and yelling at his parents to watch him go. The vision is shattered when he puts his hand on the small of my back leading up to the steps. He knocks twice with the other before letting us in.

"Mom! Dad! Stacey!"

I remove my shoes before stepping inside and place them near the closet by the door. I remove my jacket as well and hang it up. As much as I love a good leather moment, sweating my ass off in front of them probably won't leave a good first impression.