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“I wouldn’t dare. I’m in the bath,” I tell him, taking a sip of my wine. “How was practice?”
“Good. I finished top, 2 tenths up on Connor.” The pride in his voice is evident and I smile at his excitement. I love how passionate he is.
“That’s good, right?” I ask, slightly clueless about all the inner workings.
His deep chuckle fills the silence, “Yeah, sweetheart. It’s good. Means I’m the best on the track.”
“Well, was there ever any doubt?” I tease, loving his cockiness. God, how can I miss him this much already?
“You tell me,” he says and I can vividly see his grin stretching from ear to ear. “Do you think I’m the best, sweetheart?”
I let his question hang for a moment, not wanting to stroke his ego any more than I already have. “I think you’re pretty special, and you definitely know your way around a car,” I offer.
“I know my way around a lot of things,” he teases, his tone deepening and my breath hitches at the memories of just how well he knows his way around me. My pulse races, as if it can feel his touch. The soft caress of his voice sends heat through me. Christ, he doesn’t even need to be in the same country to set me on fire.
“You do,” I sigh, closing my eyes and biting my lip.
“Fuck, I wish I was there with you right now, Angel,” Brody groans down the phone. “Having you wet and naked but out of reach is driving me crazy.”
“I miss you,” I admit.
“I miss you too, sweetheart. But not long to go and I’ll be back there, blowing your mind with my incredible skills,” he jokes and I bark out a laugh.
“And there he is. My cocky World Champion.”
Chapter Eighteen
The marker in my hand is fading as I sign another poster and smile for another photo. The first race back is always an adrenaline-fueled shock to the system, and my body is still vibrating from it while I take the time to thank the Ignite team fans for coming to support us today.
Although it’s almost midnight here in Singapore, the night is as hot and sticky as the day was. The crowds tunneling on either side concentrate the heat even more. Enough that by the time I reach the bar where the team are gathering to celebrate Ignite’s first and second podiums, I’m ready to head back to the hotel and shower again.
Pausing beneath the A/C vent at the entry, I check my watch one more time. I’ve barely been out here an hour and I’m counting down the next two hours to call Rosie. The text she sent this afternoon prior to the race was just the good luck charm I needed and I’ve never been more frustrated by time differences as I am now.
“Hey,” Connor greets me, offering me his hand when I look up from my wrist. “Thanks.”
“For what?” I shake his hand.
When I’m about to pull away, he grips it harder and pulls me into a shoulder-to-shoulder touch. “For today. For letting me through the first corner ahead of you.”
“I didn’t let you through, you took the corner.” A confused look pulls at his brow, or maybe it’s a surprise that I’m giving him credit. But he deserves it, for once it didn’t feel like he was making the race about beating me, he was chasing the place he wanted and as a result, we felt like more of a team than ever. Shaking his hand, I slap his shoulder with the other. “It was a good move. Great race, bring it next week and maybe you’ll get that pole you’re looking for.”
“I’m coming for you, old man,” he chuckles as we head inside to the elevators that will take us up to the rooftop bar and he falls in step beside me.
It feels odd holding a lasting, amicable conversation with him the entire way up. I’m in a twilight zone, but it feels good, so I don’t question it like I normally would.
When the doors open the music erupts around us with a welcomed breeze. The dance beat drums through me from the speakers on either side of us. The small talk Connor and I had fallen into becomes muffled yells that we both give up on with a wince when we head to the bar. All eyes are on us, and the surprise on Murphy’s and Dad’s faces tells me they’re as surprised as the rest of the team that Connor and I arrived together, in one piece.
“What can I get the men of the hour?” Murph asks, rounding us and wrapping his arms around both our shoulders. “Fucking phenomenal race, guys. Best yet, let’s keep this going.”
“Sure, Murph, anything for you,” I give him a teasing roll of my eyes before I ask, “Stats ready for Japan tweaks?”
“Brody, son…” he lets out a snickered breath, “Celebrate the win tonight and focus on the next race tomorrow.”
“Murph’s right,” Dad nods a broad grin at me, offering me the drink he’s ordered for me. “There’s plenty of bodies here ready to celebrate with you.”
The glance he casts around the open air venue loads his remark with a meaning that goes back to our unfinished conversation regarding Rosie. I don’t understand why he’s so dubious about my intentions toward her or why he’s so opposed to the two of us. Although it irks me, I’m not sure I care enough to waste time arguing with him over it. He’ll meet her soon enough and he’ll love her.
Taking the garnished soda water from him, I drink almost half of it down before checking my watch again.
