Thank you for reading PTC.

If you have found this page, then you have read Callie and Dyson’s story.

My gift to you is this bonus content.

The extended epilogue goes more into the race between CarTubers: Corey, Dyson, and, of course, Callie and her brother Jay.

Bonus Epilogue…

Callie

After suiting up, I walked to my Porsche with Dyson, my brother, and a slew of the CarTube crew. A young woman with a CarTube channel shirt offered me a sip of water from a straw. A man with an iPad tapped the screen, positioning us all for a shoot.

Dyson rubbed my shoulders. I relaxed, not realizing how tense I’d become.

“You got this,” he said confidently. 

I swallowed but nodded, inspecting the group as the camera crew set up for my run.

Dyson hooked my chin, tilted my head up and leaned in, forcing me to gaze into his brilliant eyes. “Breathe, Callie” His tone was soft, his words meant only for us, and his warm breath fanned my face.

“How am I to do that with you so close?” I whispered, placing a hand on his chest and feeling his strong heart beating.

He chuckled and pulled me into his arms. I sighed and closed my eyes, grounding myself in his love.

“Let’s keep it G-rated,” Jay said, hugging me from behind. 

“I’m okay with the R version,” Corey said from somewhere to my right. 

I laughed, and my eyes popped open as the weight of another pair of arms encircled me. 

“My boys,” I giggled. “I’m still gonna beat your asses.”

“Classy,” Jay muttered. 

“Honest,” Corey said, stepping back. 

“Says you,” Jay responded, also letting go.

“I do,” Corey quipped before turning away and walking to a group of fans at the wall. 

“Ready, Callie?” Jennifer from the production crew asked. She smiled while tapping her headset. 

Dyson took a step back and met my gaze. “Feel the road. Become one with it–”

“Figuratively, not literally,” Jay said, crossing his arms.

I rolled my eyes but chuckled. 

“You’ve got this.” Dyson squeezed my arms gently before letting go.

“He’s right. You do got this.” Jay’s serious tone had me glancing at him. He waved Dyson away. “Time for team Enzo’s Auto Tech’s pep talk.”

Jay and I followed Jennifer to my Boxster. My brother opened the driver’s door for me. He held my elbow, stopping me from climbing inside.

“Callie, Dad would be so proud of the woman you are. He would recognize all your skills, including driving.”

My eyes filled, and I nudged my brother in the ribs. “Are you trying to make it so I can’t see?” I blinked the tears back.

My brother gave me a quick hug. “Good luck.” He gave me a wave and then exited. 

“Jennifer?” I motioned for her to come to my side. “Do we have the time to let Jay drive my Boxster?”

“You mean to finish his laps?” Her eyes widened, and she nodded, and turned away, speaking into her headset. A moment later, she turned back to me. “Looks like we have a plan for your brother. Dyson appears to be working to make sure you get to race the GT3 RS.”

I beamed as excitement coursed through my veins. 

“You’ve got to finish your laps before you can drive it, though.” She pointed at my car with a laugh.

I slipped the helmet on, and after meeting the checks, I settled into the driver’s seat. I leaned back and buckled in. They’d mounted cameras on the dash, mirror, trunk, and passenger door, ready to catch the premium footage of my ride.

But I focused on the road before me. The journey ahead.

I gripped the steering wheel, shifting in the seat. I blew out a long breath and fingered the shifter.

“You’ve got this, Callie.” Dyson’s voice came loud and clear through the speaker in my helmet. I nodded, though he couldn’t see me.

The flagman waved the green flag. Jay yelled through the speaker, “Go! Go! Go!”

All parts of my body engaged instinctively–-my right leg pressed the gas pedal as my right arm shifted through the gears while my left leg worked the clutch in tandem. My left hand held the wheel, keeping the car steady.

My heart pounded a happy, rapid beat, and I smiled. Focusing on the first sharp corner–a double apex–I slowed, assessing the angle and slope.

The first run might have a better time because of ignorance mixed with dumb luck and skill. But if I learned the track, the second run would be faster. I could shave off hundreds of a second downshifting at the proper time or using momentum to drift.

Coming out onto a straightaway, I pushed the Boxster to the limit. I approached the Barn–a slight curve with a dip next to an old barn. My stomach dropped, and I laughed with joy. 

Madness and Werner, a pair of Ess curves, loomed before me. The simulator trained me visually and mentally. It also made me question the weird corner names. I’d found out the property used to belong to the Werner family; the Hanover Speedway paid homage to the homestead.

As I entered the Camel, a curve shaped like a one-humped camel, my brother started singing a song my dad used to sing for women racers.

“The little old lady from Pasadena.” He crooned the Beach Boys song. Soon, other CarTube crew joined in. I smiled not because I enjoyed being called a granny but because of the nostalgia.

Instead of “Go, Granny, go,” Jay and the chorus sang, “Go, Callie. Go Callie. Go, Callie, go!”

I flew over the starting line, beginning lap two. I focused on being “the terror of the Hanover Speedway,” like my brother sang.

I pushed the Boxster, but unlike my brother’s Porsche, my Boxster’s temperature gauge hovered perfectly between hot and cold.

My gaze flicked toward the empty seat once, and a pang filled my chest. I ignored the dull ache and re-centered my thoughts.

The flagman waved the checkered flag as I crossed the finish line. 

 I parked, letting the Boxster idle, and hopped out. I flung my helmet onto the driver’s seat and searched the gathering crowd for Dyson.

“Great job, Callie,” Dyson said, striding toward me. 

Jay’s sneak-attack hug surprised me. When he pulled back, pride glowed in his green eyes. “You were awesome. You drive like a real pro.”

“She just wanted to finish fast so you wouldn’t start another song,” Corey said from my side.

The tease didn’t wipe the smile from Jay’s face. “I take requests.”

I rolled my eyes and glanced up at the tower, looking for a time that wasn’t displayed. 

“Not knowing is killing me, too,” Jay said.

“Enzo, you’re up,” Jennifer called, tapping her tablet and then pointing to my Boxster.

“What?” he asked, hesitating as he glanced at the convertible.

“Callie insisted you complete your laps using her car.” Jennifer canted her head to the side, studying Jay. “If you want to forfeit your laps, that’s fine. We can move on to Dyson.” She shifted, glancing at Dyson.

Jay reached his hand out, stopping short of touching her. “Sure, I’ll take it.”

He turned to me with a sappy smile. “You are the best sister.”

I crossed my arms and smirked. “I just wanted to ensure I won’t hear how you could have beaten me if you had a second lap.”

His wry grin mirrored mine. “You’re still the best sister because you know me so well.”

Jennifer raised her arm and circled it in a rallying motion. “Let’s roll,” she quipped, winking at me. 

‘”Hey, that’s my line,” Jay said, falling in line with the rest of the production crew as they encircled my car.

Dyson led me to the sidelines as Jay readied for his run. I leaned against my man, his body warming mine as his arm wrapped securely around me.

Dyson… (continued below)

Songs written while writing Popping the Clutch

Dyson

When the green flag waved, Callie bounced on her heels, cheering Enzo on with a joyful shout. Or maybe it was her car.

Before the event, Callie and I had talked about how we probably shouldn’t show too much affection while filming. My fingers itched to explore her body, making it incredibly difficult to keep my hands to myself. Our draw toward each other was natural and undeniable.

As I watched Enzo, I could tell he and Callie shared similar driving techniques. But he was more careless in the corners, and those hundredths of seconds would add up and cost him. But according to the hoots and hollers coming from the headset, he was experiencing his ten-twelve moment.

When Enzo zipped by in a blur for his second lap, I turned to Callie, who held her phone with the timer on. She chewed her bottom lip.

“Worried?” I asked.

Her gaze flicked to mine, then back at the screen. “A little. I won’t hear the end of it if he smokes my time.”

The numbers rapidly rose on the timer. “He’s at the Barn.”

She grunted, acknowledging me. Her head lifted, spying Enzo as he hit a straightaway.

Jennifer sauntered over, a smirk teasing her lips. “What do we have here?” She studied the phone in Callie’s hand.

Callie’s cheeks blossomed red, but she didn’t stop the timer. 

Enzo neared the end. “He’s almost here,” I said to her. “Get ready. I’ll tell you when to stop.” 

The rear fishtailed as Enzo passed the place where his Boxster had overheated. The car barreled toward the finish line on the last straight stretch.

“Stop!”

Enzo finished strong. He did donuts as if he’d won a NASCAR race. The smoking tires left black circles and filled the air with the acrid smell of burning rubber. 

Callie frowned. “He’s going to buy me new tires,” she groused.

While the CarTube crew focused their cameras on Enzo’s enthusiastic showboating, I asked Callie, “How did he do?”

“He’s way over the two-minute mark,” she said. “I don’t know if that’s good for a stock car.”

We had no time to muse the findings. Jennifer ushered us over to the GT3 RS. 

The gray cloud dissipated, and Enzo jogged over to his sister and hoisted her into the air, spinning her around.

“You are the best!” He exclaimed as she giggled. “That was awesome.”

“I know, right?” Callie said as he lowered her to the ground.

“Who’s going next?” Enzo asked. His gaze waffled between me, Callie, Jennifer. “I mean, let Callie drive the race car.”

“Duh,” Jennifer said. She turned away, speaking into her mic on her headset.

Callie crossed her arms and appeared in thought. 

“What’s going on?” I asked her.

Her green eyes met my gaze, her brow dipping slightly. “I’d love to drive the GT3, but I don’t like how everyone assumes I should. Especially since no one has asked you, Dyson.”

I mulled over her words for a moment. Enzo’s and the CarTube crew’s assumption that she’d drive my car bothered her. But not me. 

“If you want to drive my car and they let you, I’m one hundred percent okay with it.” I placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

“Really?” Callie gazed at me with bright eyes.

“Yeah.” I grinned. “You’re a skilled driver, and I trust you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, a smile gracing her lips as she leaned against me. 

I held her close as the chaos of the CarTube show crew scurried around, setting up their equipment for the next rally. I whispered, “Maybe I should capture you against the car and make you feel good.”

She shivered and sighed. “If only.”

My body instinctively responded. I closed my eyes and inhaled her sweet scent. Despite the surrounding noise, I could pretend we were alone. 

“Later,” I promised, squeezing and then letting her go.

“Break it up, you lovebirds,” Enzo said. “We’ve got some serious business to take care of.”

Corey stood next to Enzo, no longer in his racing gear. “That’s right. We made a wager, and I want my payout.”

“You’re going to lose,” I assured him, not caring which car or driver he’d bet on.

Corey’s expression didn’t change, but one eyebrow rose slightly. 

David held a camera over Corey’s shoulder, catching the scene. He smiled with amusement, having captured the exchange.

A young woman in a CarTube t-shirt timidly approached us. “Ms. Ferenzo, please follow me.” She beckoned Callie to go with her.

Callie met my gaze. I nodded and a brilliant smile blossomed on her face. With a spring in her step, she turned and joined the other woman.

“I love your show,” the girl gushed. 

“Thanks.” Callie grinned and talked to the woman until they reached Jennifer’s side.

“Aren’t you going to go over with her?” Enzo asked.

“If she calls me over, I’ll go.” I settled in between my friends.

“How did Callie’s Boxster feel?” Corey asked Enzo.

“Steering was tight.” He rubbed his chin. “She did a good job. The car is solid.”

“Compared to your Boxster?” I prompted, attempting to keep the tease out of my tone.

Enzo’s face pinched for a moment. “I think that’s an obvious yes, given what happened to mine.”

When I met Corey’s eyes, I saw a flicker of surprise, and one eyebrow shot up. “That’s right. I almost forgot about your mishap.“

Enzo’s gaze narrowed as if he was attempting to discern whether Corey was teasing or serious.

“Well, if you’re bored with the Boxster, have Callie sort it for you.” I failed to stifle my chuckle.

Enzo huffed as he crossed his arms and frowned. He smiled suddenly, as if he’d just been struck by a lightning bolt of inspiration. “That might make great content for our viewers.”

“I’d watch it,” Corey mumbled.

“See.” Enzo pointed at Corey and glanced at me as if to convince me. 

“She’d do it to save the car but not for the views,” I said. 

“Saving the car–that’s good.” Enzo nodded. “I’ll mention it.”

As I watched the CarTube crew get the GT3 RS ready and ensure Callie’s audio equipment and all the cameras worked, I couldn’t help feeling gleeful at the prospect of seeing what she could make my car do.

Jennifer poked the clipboard, and Callie nodded, studying it with laser-like focus.

“She’s probably showing Callie the map of where the CarTube camera guys are positioned around the track,” Corey said. Since I hadn’t made my run, I hadn’t received the prep talk yet.

“Makes sense,” I said.

Callie glanced over at me and then blew me a kiss before putting on her helmet. Excitement and concern warred inside me as I watched her prepare to drive.

I slipped on my headset and listened to Jennifer and another CarTube crewmember count off the checklist of items. 

“Ready, Callie?” Jennifer asked.

“Yes, I am,” Callie said, a joy-filled lilt in her voice.

Corey and Enzo both attached headsets and switched them on. 

“Let’s go to the observation deck,” Enzo suggested. He pointed to an open-air platform up three sets of stairs. “It overlooks the front part of the track and has a nice view of the back straightaway.”

I agreed, and we hoofed it up the stairwell to the deck. A CarTube cameraman waved before returning his focus to ‌my GT3 RS and Callie. 

The sun’s heat was unrelenting, and sweat made my shirt cling to my back. I gripped the warm wooden railing with both hands, my heart pounding in anticipation.

Corey’s promo crew hastily set the camera stand and checked their equipment. They focused on Corey and then panned the speedway, pausing on Callie.

As Callie rolled to the line, the flagman held his flag, poised for the start. 

“Start already,” Enzo mumbled, barely audible. He tapped his foot to an unknown beat.

The green flag dropped, and the car exploded forward, engine roaring. Callie sped by in a blur. 

I held my breath as she cornered the first turn. My car had substantially more power and would react differently than Callie’s Boxster.

I breathed easier after the first few turns, and when she reached the Barn, I whooped.

“She’s got some serious skills behind the wheel!” one of the CarTube crew said over the radio. A chorus of agreement followed. 

“Keep the chatter to a minimum,” Jennifer chided, then added. “I can’t wait to see her time.”

I grinned and met Enzo’s eyes. “That’s my girl.”

“She’s flying,” Enzo said, his voice full of wonder as he mirrored my smile.

“I think Callie has missed her calling. She’s wired to race,” Corey said, his eyes never leaving the car.

As she reached the finish line, I leaned over the rail. Throughout her lap, Callie had been unusually quiet, not like when she was in her Boxster. A persistent nervous energy nagged at me. 

“She’s too quiet,” I said to Enzo as I squinted to see beyond the windscreen into the car.

“She’s concentrating,” Corey offered. 

“Maybe,” I replied, hoping that she concentrated on blasting Enzo’s time to smithereens.

“Yes!” Enzo thrust a fist into the air as she crossed the finish. Suddenly, he gripped the rail. “Uh oh. She’s slowing down.”

“Callie, you’re clear for another lap,” Jennifer said, a hint of worry in her tone.

“I know–” Callie mumbled something else, then sniffled. “Dyson–” The car rolled to a stop.

Oh hell. I clicked the receiver. “On my way,” I said as I ran to the stairs. I took the stairs three at a time. My legs and lungs burned as I jumped the last six and rounded the grandstand.

Heading into pit row, I noticed the Porsche idling with the car door open. Callie stayed behind the wheel, her hands still gripping the leather. She’d already removed the helmet.

I hurried past groups of CarTube and track employees. Jennifer met my gaze but didn’t give anything away. My gut churned with a palpable weight. 

“Callie,” I called, hopping over the low painted wall that separated the pit from the track.

She turned in my direction, her hair cascading over her shoulder. Callie mouthed my name. A small smile played on her lips, and her eyes locked onto mine. She unbuckled the harness.

I exhaled a sigh of relief. “She’s fine.” 

I bent at the waist, taking a moment to catch my breath, and still my pounding heart. I inspected the GT3 RS, running my eyes along its sleek form. Nothing appeared amiss. No leaks beneath. The engine’s smooth hum filled the air.

Callie emerged from the sports car and strode toward me. Her gaze flicked behind me for a second, and her smile grew larger.

I assumed Enzo had finally caught up to me, but I didn’t look because I didn’t really care. Callie had called me to her. “Callie?”

“Dyson.” Callie stopped an arm’s length away, just out of my reach. She wiped her palms on the sides of her suit. “I want–” Her eyes glanced behind me again.

A group converged around us. Cameramen, CarTube personnel, my friends and–my family. Wait. What? “Mom, Dad, Lucy. What are you doing here?”

“We were invited,” Lucy said.

“CarTube has low standards,” Enzo said from beside me, crossing his arms.

Lucy stuck out her tongue. “Your sister invited me, and she has impeccable taste.” She stuck her nose in the air and strode to Callie, embracing her for a moment. Lucy whispered in her ear, and Callie nodded, taking her hands.

Lucy backed away and returned to my parents’ side. 

“We wouldn’t miss the show,” Mom said. 

“Thanks for coming,” I said to my parents, completely surprised but happy to see them.

“Dyson,” Callie whispered. Her cheeks blossomed pink, and she chewed her bottom lip.

“What’s wrong?” I reached for her.

She stepped forward but fell to her knees. Callie glanced up at me with watery eyes.

I dropped to my knees too and took her hands. “What’s wrong?” I tried again.

Her expression turned dreamy, and she glanced back at the car. “While driving, I noticed the empty passenger seat.” She took a stuttering breath. “I felt alone, and I don’t want to go through the journey of life without you. I need you as my co-pilot, Dyson.”

My mouth opened, but the words got caught in my throat. Love swelled in my soul, threatening to break free and overwhelm me. 

A tear rolled down her cheek, and she smiled cherubically. She pressed something into my palm.

Breaking eye contact, I opened my hand. A metal ring, the outside a tire tread pattern, rested there. “Callie,” I breathed. My gaze lifted to meet hers, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Dyson, I love you. Will you marry me?” Her head tilted slightly, and her green eyes sparkled with hope and love.

Overwhelming joy washed over me, threatening to drown my heart. I fisted the ring, then reached and pulled her to me in a soul-smashing hug.

“Hell yes!” I hollered. The group chuckled, hooted, and cheered, but I held her tight, her scent filling my lungs.

I helped Callie to her feet. Ignoring the crowd of wellwishers, I opened my palm, offering the ring to her. “Do you want to put it on my finger?”

She gazed at me with a shy smile but nodded. The slide of her petite fingers and the ring against my skin sent a shiver down my spine. 

“It’s perfect.” I studied the tread and gasped. “This is the tread for the GT3 RS tires.”

Callie nodded. “I thought it was appropriate. The car is our history.”

Cocooned in a bubble of happiness, I responded to the others’ congratulations but kept Callie next to me. The smile on my face hurt. Soon Jennifer motioned to us.

“Dyson, it’s your turn,” Callie said after I failed to respond to a crewmember’s prompts.

“He’s got it bad,” Cory said to Enzo.

“Just you wait,” I responded. “Someday you’ll feel the same way.”

I threaded my arms through the suit and zipped it. A CarTube associate handed me a helmet. They led me to the car. 

“Shotgun!” Callie called and slid into the passenger side. She adjusted and buckled the harness before grinning at me. “I wouldn’t miss the chance to ride the track again.”

“Are you okay with this?” I said to Jennifer, pointing at Callie.

“It’s awesome. This is going to be the best show of the year.” She tapped her clipboard and then saluted. “Have fun.”

I settled into the seat, pulling the harness straps tight. The gauges, steering wheel, and stick shift were the same, but it all felt surreal. I placed my hand on the shift knob and breathed in the scent of leather, the speedway, and almond and vanilla. “Is this real?”

“Yes.” Callie covered my hand with hers and squeezed. 

Voices crackled in my helmet as I lined up at the starting line. My gaze fixed on the flagman. He waved the green. I shifted into gear, shooting off the line.

The exhilaration of the roaring engine, the speed, and the G-force made my heart race, and Callie’s gleeful laughter brought a smile to my face. Time seemed both to stretch out and speed up with an odd duality.

All too soon, I crossed the finish line. I parked the car, and Callie and I removed the helmets. My stiff hands felt the vibrations as if they still gripped the wheel. I inhaled deeply trying to still my heart. 

Callie pressed back in her seat, a sanguine smile gracing her lips as her eyes grew heavy. “God, you’re beautiful,” I said.

“Even with sweaty helmet hair?” she mused. 

“Yes. And you’re mine forever.” 

I leaned in to kiss her, but the doors opened on each side. Enzo offered a hand to Callie while Corey held my door open wide for me.

“Come on, slowpokes.” Enzo beckoned. “I want to see who got the best time.”

I took Callie’s hand, and we gathered around Jennifer. She flipped the papers on the clipboard and then glanced at the crowd.

“Well?” Enzo prompted.

“I know everyone’s times,” Jennifer smiled. “But–oh.” Her headset squawked, and she frowned, listening for a moment.

“But what?” Corey asked.

“But,” she sighed. “I can’t tell you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Callie and Enzo said in sync. They glanced at each other and smirked. Enzo nudged Callie.

“Why can’t you tell us?” Corey pressed.

“The powers that be want to keep it a secret until the show airs,” Jennifer offered with an apologetic shrug.

“Do they want to film a big reveal?” Callie asked, unzipping her suit. 

“I don’t like waiting,” Enzo growled. “But that’s a great idea for views.”

I met Callie’s gaze, and she rolled her eyes. Then Callie patted her brother’s arm and said in a faux, soothing voice, “Jay, let’s just pretend you won for a few weeks until they announce the real winner.”

“Harsh,” Corey chuckled.

“Ha. Ha.” Enzo crossed his arms and frowned. “What happens now?”

“Time for a beer,” Corey answered.

With the final shot complete, the CarTube film crew began packing up their equipment. The young woman asked Callie to sign her shirt. 

I tugged Callie away from the crowd and pulled her toward the GT3 RS. Once there, I kissed her hard. She opened for me, and I claimed her mouth like she’d claimed our future.

She broke the kiss. With a twinkle in her eyes, she said, “Do you think they’d mind if we went around again?”

“Let’s find out, future Mrs. Gabbard.” 

She giggled gleefully and ran to the passenger door. We set out together, eager to seize another ten-twelve moment.

Coming in the future… A CarTubers Manual for Love 2… Corey and a race car driver.