𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Engines idled, the crowd buzzing like a hive, restless and eager. Three cars gleamed under the neon, but there was still an empty spot at the line. Everyone knew Wayne had bailed, his graveyard shift pulling him out of the race. No surprise. Tej had already made the call, and now the whole street was waiting on one man.

You stood at the edge of the crowd, trying to disappear into the noise, though your chest was tight. You weren’t supposed to be here, not in Miami, not anywhere near him. Still, you found yourself waiting, just like everyone else.

Then the sound cut through the chatter. A low growl at first, then the sharp whine of a turbo spooling up. Heads snapped toward the street as anticipation rippled through the crowd.

The silver-and-blue Skyline slid into view, engine snarling as Brian threaded it through the sea of bodies. The crowd erupted, cheers breaking loose as he pulled up to the line, revving hard enough to make the pavement tremble.

For everyone else, it was just another entrance. For you, it was something else entirely. Separated or not, you felt the air leave your lungs the second he stepped out of the car, soaking in the praise like he was born for it.

The racers pushed off their cars, gathering near Tej. The crowd pressed closer, hungry for the show.

“A’ight, guys,” Tej said, holding out his hand. One by one, the drivers peeled off rolls of cash—thirty-five hundred each—and slapped them into his palm. The sound of money smacking skin made the crowd holler. Stakes set, pride on the line.

Slap Jack jawed at Orange Julius about how he was gonna leave him in the dust, while Suki rolled her eyes and told them both they’d be eating her taillights. Same pre-race chatter as always—half brag, half threat, all ego.

And then there was Brian. Cool, collected, that easy grin tugging at his mouth as he handed Tej his share. Like he’d done this a thousand times.

He turned back toward the Skyline, about to slide into the driver’s seat—then froze.

His eyes found you.

Not a passing glance. His gaze locked onto yours, sharp and unflinching. For a heartbeat, the roar of the crowd faded, the neon blurred, and the night narrowed until it was just the two of you across that stretch of concrete.

Your chest tightened, heat rushing to your face under the weight of it. You hadn’t meant to be seen, hadn’t meant for him to know you were here. But it was too late.

Brian’s jaw shifted, the grin gone, replaced by something heavier. Something that said he hadn’t expected to see you—but now that he had, he couldn’t look away.

The moment stretched until Tej’s voice cut through it: “Line it up!”

The racers moved back toward their cars, and Brian finally tore his eyes from you. But the damage was done. He knew. You were here.

Engines roared to life as the race kicked off, tires screeching, smoke curling into the night. Minutes later, Brian cut the wheel sharp, tires spitting smoke as the Skyline slid sideways before easing to a stop. Another race down. Another easy win.

Tej waved a fat roll of cash as he walked up to him. You weren’t paying much attention to Tej—your eyes stayed locked on Brian as the money changed hands.

Brian counted a few bills and shoved them back into Tej’s palm. “Y’all see this?” Tej shouted, grinning. “This is mutual respect. Now clear out!”

The crowd listened, patting Brian on the back as they drifted away, leaving you in plain sight.

You smirked, running a hand through your hair, but your eyes never left him.

Tej followed Brian’s line of sight. “You know that girl staring at you?”

Brian didn’t hesitate. He pushed off the Skyline, casual, slow, like he had nowhere else to be. “You could say that. She’s my wife.”

The crowd wasn’t paying attention anymore—too busy gearing up for the next race—but for you, the noise dimmed. Just Miami heat, streetlights, and Brian O’Conner walking toward you.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was sharp.