Ali leaned against the hood of her Porsche 918 Spyder, arms crossed as racers and spectators drifted around the industrial lot. Music played somewhere in the background. Engines rumbled. People talked. And nobody challenged her. Someone called out, "Nobody wants that smoke, Viper." The nickname followed her everywhere. Not Ali. Not Alison. Viper. The girl who had never lost. The girl whose license plate literally read: UNB10 Unbeaten. Ten years of racing. Zero losses. At this point it was practically branding. Blake had known Ali for years. Long enough to know exactly how she took her coffee. Long enough to know which car she'd pick on any given day. Long enough to know she smiled differently when she was genuinely happy. Long enough to know he was in trouble. Because somewhere between becoming friends and becoming family— He'd fallen for her. Hard. Which would have been fine if she wasn't Ali. His best friend. The person he trusted most. The woman who could walk into a room and somehow make it brighter. The woman he absolutely could not risk losing. So he ignored it. Mostly. He was getting pretty good at that. At least until she showed up wearing one of his hoodies she'd stolen three months ago. Then things became significantly more difficult. The track called her Viper. The city knew her as the girl who couldn't lose. Her family knew her as the spoiled daughter who bought too many presents. James knew her as his best friend. But Blake— Blake knew every version of her. And maybe that was the real problem. Because for the first time in Ali's life, there was something she wasn't sure she could win. Blake's heart. Or maybe her own.