“Please don’t tell Rocco I came here,” she pleaded. “That’s not why I came. We’re good as teammates now.” She paused, seeing the doubtful looks on their faces. “Really. We’re okay. We’ve come to an understanding. You’ve seen how well we’ve been doing. Rocco still has a chance to win that trophy. Please promise me you won’t tell him any of this.”
They hesitated, looking at one another.
“Please,” Nico insisted.
They looked reluctant but they all promised.
Nico glanced apprehensively at Sofia and Beatrice. Isabella nudged them.
“We promise,” they said in unison, holding up their hands as though they were testifying in court.
After Nico waved goodbye, she drew a deep breath, admiring the beauty of the small hamlet sitting at the foot of the mountain. As she walked along the cobblestone road, she realized something.
She felt lighter.
That anchor was gone.
She smiled at the few people she passed, and they smiled back.
Mickey was still out there. She might never be rid of him. But she’d deal with him if she had to. She wasn’t sure exactly how. But she’d figure it out.
Charles was right. The man had no power over her anymore. Not if she didn’t give it to him.
She lifted her chin proudly.
I’ve never been the kind of girl who would turn myself into sea-foam.
I’m going to be okay. Even without Rocco, I’m going to be okay.
She felt a pang thinking of Rocco. But for the first time since he’d learned the truth about her, she didn’t want to put her life on rewind and erase what had happened between them. Even if it hurt now, she wouldn’t wish what had happened with Rocco away. She didn’t think it was possible for her to feel like she had about him. Like she still did.
Up ahead, she saw a couple young girls and wondered how old they were. They made her think of Sofia and Beatrice. She smiled, watching them laugh as they skipped arm in arm and disappeared around a corner.
When was the last time I skipped?
She’d have to go way back to sometime when her grandfather was still alive. And then she stopped.
Did she? Have to?
No. She didn’t.
Today.
Today will be the last time I skipped.
And so, she did; she flew her arms out, flung her feet forward, and bounced down the cobblestone road and under the archway, waving goodbye to the hamlet.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
ROCCO
Rocco glanced over at Nico as Casey talked about today’s race—the final race of the season. The championship was on the line. Not the Constructors—Blue Jet Lightning already had that one in the bag—but the Drivers. Anker, Clarke, and Rocco were so close in points, any one of them could take it. It was all riding on today’s race.
Rocco wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for Nico. If he’d kept going the way he was once they’d returned from the break, this season would have been his last. Not only would Maverick have let him go, he felt certain no other team would want to take him on.
And here he was, with a real shot to win the trophy, which he hadn’t won in years.
The atmosphere had drastically improved off the track as well as on it after Nico had set him straight. They were friendly now. She was always there when the team celebrated a win. But there were no more intimate moments between them. Whenever they encountered each other, there were always other people around.
