Page 31 of Out of Control

“That’s rich considering I’m staring at a man who used to be the epitome of selfish. That’s not a valid reason.”

“You’d simply be a game to him,” Cruz says quietly. “Something to distract him for the time being, to toy with, and then to fuck over simply to get to me.”

I hear his warning, but it doesn’t ring true with the man who protected me, who followed me, who looked at me with confusion in this very garage two days ago.

“Why does this always come back to you?”

He levels me with a glare. His patience with the conversation about as done as mine is. “It’s not about me. It’s about him. I know the man.”

And so do I. The same man I know I hurt days ago.

“Controlling. Condescending. Beyond the pale? Like you’re being right now?”

He crosses the space and stands in front of me. Eyes the same cognac color as mine look back at me.

“I’m going to win a championship this year, Sofia. I can feel it in my bones. Everything is in place. Our family dynamic has . . . improved. I have Maddix and she’s . . . everything. And I feel like the team is top notch.”

“Including having a man you hate as your teammate.”

“I don’t hate him. I don’t particularly like him. Regardless he’s a damn good driver.”

“What does any of this have to do with me or who I might find attractive?”

“It has everything to do with it, Sofia. Everything.”

And when Cruz is called away seconds later, I can’t help but stare after him and shake my head.

This is my family.

Who I was born into.

But truth? I don’t like them very much right now.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Rossi

“Decent quali, mate. Great job.”

“It’s not the front row, but it’ll do,” I say to one of my crew as I tuck a duffel bag under my arm.

“Having both of our cars in the second row gives us a good shot tomorrow. All of us are perfectly okay with that.”

“Agreed. See you tomorrow.” I push the door open to the Gravitas hospitality suite and welcome the fresh air and the lack of any expectation to have to talk to anyone.

Today was good. Quali was good. And to say I’m not a little drunk on the high of a good starting position with a new team after a pretty shitty week otherwise would be a lie.

People still mill about in the paddock despite qualifying finishing hours ago, but there’s a calm to the bustle now rather than the chaos from earlier. This temporary city feels like it never sleeps during race week.

I turn the corner past our designated area, head down, hat pulled low, and fuck me, come face to face with Sofia.

Of course, I do.

Every emotion wars within me—need, want, confusion, disbelief. Aversion.

“Have a good one, Navarro,” I mutter and move past her.

“Ollie,” she says and sighs. I soften at that stupid nickname.