Emotion rises up in me, causing tears to well, but I blink them back and lean into him, giving him a grateful side hug to show my thanks. He squeezes me in return, placing a kiss on the top of my head.
“Don’t get too sentimental now,” he murmurs. “Maybe I’m just glad I don’t have to pretend to like Luca anymore.”
Laughing, I hug him a little tighter.
I’m really glad I’m here, too.
CHAPTER 18
ALARIC
SUZUKA, JAPAN
The bus driver up front huffs and yanks on the lever that opens the doors, snagging my attention.
“Sorry, sorry,” a musical voice floats up the stairs, followed a second later by footsteps.
Evangeline appears, wide-eyed, focus darting from place to place.
I rise out of my seat. Because it’s the chivalrous thing to do. Not because I’m equal parts surprised and delighted to see her.
“I didn’t know you’d be here.” I blurt out the greeting and immediately wince. The desperation behind my words is pathetic. Of course I didn’t know she’d be here—it’s not my job to keep track of her whereabouts.
A dozen employees from Granata are volunteering at the Kyoto Animal Rescue Isle today as part of a broader Formula 1 outreach initiative. Each team takes turns providing volunteers at grand prix all over the world. When it’s our turn to serve, we try to ensure we send a nice mix of staff from all departments.
It makes sense that Mauricio would send Evangeline, given the ebb in the rep assessment team’s workload at the start of a race week.
Despite the logic, I’m wholly unprepared for my visceral reaction to being in her presence now. This is the first time I’ve seen her since we arrived in Japan.
“Please find a seat,” the driver instructs.
Eyes flaring, Evangeline catches her lips between her teeth and scans the bus for open seats.
On instinct, I step out into the aisle, block her path, and extend onehand. “You’re welcome to sit with me.” The moment the words are out, I internally scold myself for the complete lack of chill behind the suggestion.
She considers the vacancy beside me.
We’re on a luxury charter bus, so there’s plenty of room between the individual seats. Too much space, honestly, for my liking.
“You’re sure?” she asks, worrying her glossy red bottom lip once more.
The urge to cradle her face in my hands and pluck it from between her teeth hits me.
My god. The way my control withers to nothing when I’m in her presence is pathetic.
“Absolutely,” I assure her, stepping back a bit more to make room.
With a grateful smile, she squeezes past me.
Once she’s settled and the bus is moving, she pulls out her laptop, headphones, and a notebook, then lowers the tray attached to the seat in front of her.
She peeks over at me then, catching me watching her, and a tentative smile teases the corners of her mouth, making that tiny dimple come out to play. “Hi.”
“Hello. How was your flight to Japan?”
She wrings her headphones, though she quickly catches herself and sets them down.
“Really good. I slept for most of the flight. That was a first for me. It was awesome being in business class.” Her cheeks pink with the confession.
