“Thanks, Dad,” I said as I gave my father a hug. Mason had a lot of balls to ask me to marry him right in front of Dad, and I expected that he’d blow up at any moment, but my dad had clearly grown a lot over the past few years and could clearly see that Mason and I truly loved each other. Even with all the fights that Daddy and I had in the past, he’d always be my hero.

“You sure you don’t want to eat with us before we go to Layla’s and start packing things up?” Mason asked.

“Ughh,” Dad moaned and grabbed his stomach. “I ate a ton of chicken before you guys came over. I’d pop if I ate anymore.”

“Alright, we’ll we should probably head out,” I said and started walking towards the door.

“Why don’t you guys leave Travis here for a while? It’ll be some time before I can see the bugger again once you’re all off to California. I’d love to spend some time with him.”

I shrugged and looked at Mason. “We sure could get the packing done a lot sooner if you were watching him.”

“Get over here buddy!” Dad yelled towards Travis, and Travis went running immediately. “I’ll get him fed, so don’t worry.”

I threw a hand around Mason’s shoulder and shook my head as I watched my Dad scoop Travis into his arms and promise to take him outside to play tag in the sand.

Happy would be an understatement of how I felt at that moment. Travis was going to have two great father figures, and I was going to marry the man of my dreams. With my Dad coming on board with everything, it looked like we really were going to be one big happy family. And moving back to California? I guess I’d be getting my best friend back as well.

The void had been filled, and I was on top of the world.

“Come on, let’s go,” I said to Mason.

We stepped outside of the beach house, and Mason held my hand all the way to the car, both of us smiling like two giddy school kids.

“You should let me drive. I feel kind of weird in the passenger seat.”

I smirked and handed him the keys. “With pleasure, my … fiancé.”

“Ohh… I like the sound of that.”

We slid in the car, and I fed Mason directions to a local bistro that I wanted him to try. As we grew closer to the restaurant, we passed what appeared to be a large auto shop with boards on the windows.

“Well, look at that…” Mason muttered.

“What?”

“That would be the perfect kind of place for The Mod Shop. I’ve been looking for a bigger shop in the OC, but they’re hard to find in that area. Shame that one is over here.”

I shrugged. “Ehh… I’m sure you’ll find a place.”

We pulled up to a red light, and Mason reached over and grabbed my hand just as I noticed another car pull up beside us and was staring daggers inside my window.

The man revved his engine right as I glanced at him.

“Mason? What is this guy looking over here for?”

Mason turned his head and the man revved his engine again, and then again louder. He was driving some sort of Honda. It didn’t look like anything special, but the wheels were spray painted black.

“I think he wants to race…”

I snorted. “He wants to race here? My Corolla?”

Mason shrugged and turned his attention back towards the light. “It’s just a High School kid. I was doing the same thing when I got my first car.”

I glanced back at the man, and he revved again when I made eye contact.

“Well, aren’t you going to race him?”

“What?”

“You should show him what it’s like to go against a real street racer.”

Mason laughed. “You want me to race him in this Toyota? Right after I told your Dad—”

“Why not?” I slapped the dash. “My car might not be The Beast, but she’s got a lot of kick.”

“It’s a 4 cylinder automatic…”

“Oh c’mon.”

Mason rolled his eyes. “Okay, but if we get caught, you’re taking the blame this time.”

I turned my head, looking in all directions. “I don’t see any cops.”

Before I could even turn my head back around, the light had turned green, and Mason slammed his foot in the pedal. The tires of my car squealed, and the engine sounded like it wanted to cry.

We shot out from the under the red light, and the Honda was right beside us. Clearly, the Honda had more power, but Mason weaved through traffic like it was the easiest thing in the world—which I am sure was no problem, since we were going half the speed he was used to in The Beast.

Once we were ahead of the other car, Mason kept pushing and looking in his rear view mirror, maneuvering from side to side to make sure that the Honda had no room to pass, and after we passed a few additional stoplights, Mason slowed down along with the Honda, clearly winning the race.

“Yes!” I bit my lips and slapped my hands together.

“Happy now?”

I punched his shoulder. “You know you had fun too!”

“Maybe,” he said with a grin as I laid several more light punches into him.

A car suddenly honked, and I turned around to see that the Honda had pulled up beside us and was motioning for me to roll down the window.

“What does he want?” I asked, feeling a little worried.

“I dunno. Let’s find out.”

We pulled up to another light, and I rolled my window down.

“Hey!” the boy, who could’ve been anywhere between 16 and 18 years of age, yelled, his fluffy blonde hair blowing in the wind as he poked halfway out the window. “Where’d you learn to drive like that?!”

I grinned confidently at my fiancé.

“I was a racer in California!” he yelled back.

“Yeah?! Well, that was pretty epic. You should come out to the circuits tomorrow and show some more of your stuff.”

“Circuits? I don’t know what that is but I don’t race out here.”

The boy shuffled through something in his passenger seat then pulled his body out the window until he was leaning with his waist against the frame of his door. “Here!” he said as he handed me a colorful flyer.

Miami Racing Circuits, Every Thursday and Saturday. There were several pictures of modified street cars at the bottom.

“Just be careful you don’t get busted,” Mason warned after checking out the flyer.

“Busted? Nah man. These are 100% legal races. The big boys in town own miles of private track. No police, and anyone with the balls can join in.” The light turned green and someone behind the boy honked. He turned his head back and put his car in gear. “You should come!” he yelled one more time before he pulled off.

Mason shifted my car in drive and started us forward, glancing at the road then back down towards the flyer. He gave me this look, and I knew exactly what he was thinking.

“I guess there is action in Miami…”