The crowd was euphoric, the engines roaring in the distance, but Harris didn’t pay attention to any of that. He was with his back to the car, leaning, with you between his legs, his arms firm around you.

“You ran as if your life depended on it,” you said, with a smile, running your fingers through the line of his jaw.

“Maybe it would depend,” he replied, looking into his eyes. “But not from the race. To see you there at the end of it.”

You bit your lip, without words.

Harris brought his face closer to his, his foreheads leaning.

“I used to run to forget. To escape. Now... it’s for you. Always for you.”

The kiss that came after that wasn’t just desire - it was a promise.