“I’m fine.”
His eyes track my face. “Sure.”
“Put them down,” I say.
He sets the folder on the edge of my desk, but his hand doesn’t fall away immediately. It drags, like he’s giving himself one last second to decide something. Then he straightens, shoving both hands into his pockets the way he does when he’s trying not to touch anything. Or anyone.
“You don’t look fine,” he says quietly.
“I didn’t realize you were doing visual assessments now.”
“True. As I recall, that’s your area of expertise.” He waggles his eyebrows, and my heartbeat stutters at the memory of him splayed naked on the motel bed, begging me to explore him with more than my eyes. “But it’s not complicated. I know what you look like when you’re good.”
“And when I’m not?”
His gaze doesn’t move. “This.”
I clench my jaw. “You should get back to the garage.”
“Maybe,” he says. “If you actually wanted me to.”
I open my mouth, no idea what I’m about to say, only that it’ll be the wrong thing, but a brisk knock on the open door derails it.
“Kip?”
Grady’s voice. We jump apart like we’ve been caught with our hands in the cookie jar.
Grady strides in, sunglasses still on even though we’re indoors. “There you are. Media briefing in ten. You ready?”
“Yep,” I say immediately. “Just sorting something out.”
Grady glances from Hutch to me then back again, taking in Hutch’s posture, the folder on my desk, and the thick, charged silence still clinging to the air. One eyebrow lifts, subtle, but not subtle enough.
Hutch clears his throat. “I was just leaving.”
“Right.” Grady folds his arms. “I’m sure you’ve got about ten fires to put out in the garage.”
Hutch nods at me. “See you later, Kip.”
I don’t answer. Can’t. Not with Grady’s gaze burning a hole in the side of my head.
Once Hutch is gone, Grady waits exactly two beats before speaking.
“So, you and Hutch …” He lets the sentence dangle, casting bait into the water and waiting for me to bite.
“There is no me and Hutch,” I insist.
“Tell that to him. Based on how many times he’s found a reason to come up here since your little adventure, I think he’d disagree.” Grady leans back on his heels, a self-satisfied smile spreading across his face. “Did something happen between you two out on the road?”
“No,” I say too quickly. There’s no way I’m going to kiss and tell. Especially when—unlike me—Hutch isn’t as open with his sexuality. Hell, until a few days ago I didn’t even know for sure that he was into guys. The last thing he needs is me throwing our—whatever it was—into team gossip circulation. “Not unless you count a wrong turn and a meltdown.”
Grady makes a dry, skeptical snort. “Right. And Ferrari’s got the best strategy on the grid.”
I shoot him a glare. “Drop it.”
He doesn’t. Not right away. His expression shifts from playful into something more sincere. “Kip, if something did happen, you know it’s fine, right?”
I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
