Chasing Cars |Chase Elliott x Reader|

49

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

The machine makes a whirring noise as it slides back to the starting position. I drop my legs and sit up, resting my hands on my thighs with the black stretchy fabric of my leggings. I peer up at the mirror beside me and see my sweaty face all red from the workout. My hair tied back in a very messy ponytail at this point. I grab the top bit of my purple shirt and try to fan it to give me some airflow. I grunt a bit as I stand and I feel the stress through my legs as my muscles ache. I take one step, then two and my legs wobble so slightly as I work my way over to the weights.

It's been roughly a month since my accident. 

I started to hit the gym every other day this week so I can start building my body back up to maintain it. Without the gym sessions at practice, I figured I would take the initiative. 

I run for thirty minutes to an hour on the treadmill, do a few reps on the leg press, and then do some light weightlifting. Just rinse and repeat afterwards. I want to start small and work my way gradually back up. Most of my aches and pains have dissipated, but I don't want to hurt myself any more than what I've just been through.

I grab a fifteen pound weight and start doing some curls, counting each rep in my head. Once I finish one side, I do the other.

Chase has won two races and is securing himself for another shot at the final four in the championship race. According to my return plan, I should be back in when we hit the South Point 400 at Las Vegas. That will leave me with two more races until the final. 

Noah hasn't been too bad. He's been finishing around the twelfth and fifteenth positions. He did wreck out once, but it just happens. I would know.

My friends have been keeping me in good spirits, mostly Kat giving me Facetime calls while at the track with Ryan. Sometimes, she'll call me in the middle of the race and expect that I can hear her with all of the cars zooming around. Chase gives me the occasional text and will vent to me about his hardships of whatever race he was at.

I set the weight down and let my arms drop to my side, feeling my muscles strain from the workout. I check the time and see it's getting late and that I should go ahead and head home. I grab my bag and dig my keys out and make way to my car.

The cool night air hits me and it's refreshing after sweating in the gym for hours. It isn't the cold fall night cold, but the decent transition cold from summer to fall. Soon it'll start to get colder as we close in on the final races and head towards the off season. I hit the button to unlock my car twice and the front headlights come on. I swing the door open and slide into the driver's seat.

"You're not going back."

My mom's words echo in my head as my hands find the steering wheel. 

We had no further discussion about it, as I simply just don't want to think about it.

I press the brake pedal in and hit the button on the car to bring it to life. The soft, low hum of the engine starts up.

My heart sinks a little.

I have to go back.

...

Just another day closer.

I swing my leg back and forth as I sit on the chair reading one of my favorite book series. 

I spend most of my days either reading or working out, trying not to let my overwhelming thoughts and worries consume me. However, it only works to an extent.