Page 12 of Heartbreaker

“Only half?”

“Give it a few weeks for you to get your sea legs, and you’ll be driving better than almost all of us.” Before I can even ask, he explains. “It’s gonna take a lot to beat me. Though if you want some private lessons, I’m happy to give them,” he says. I open my mouth, though for one wild moment I don’t know whether to argue or accept. But before I can do either, a new voice enters the fray.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” Demi calls, delighted cheer in her voice. Instantly, I step back from the man in front of me, snapping back into reality. I don’t even have to look at her to know there’s a shit-eating grin on her lips. She loves my misery. “Looks like you found a way to keep yourself busy.”

“No, I—” I start, an embarrassed burn coating my cheeks and moving down my neck.

“I was just offering my services,” Roman says, and I snap my head in his direction, my mouth open and eyes wide.

“That’s not⁠—”

“But I’ve gotta get on my way. I was supposed to meet Courtney,” he checks the time on his phone and cringes. “Ten minutes ago. Later, ladies.” Then he moves on past where Demi and I are standing.

Despite my better judgment, I watch his ass as he goes. He might be a jerk, but the man has a great ass.

“He’s into you,” Demi says, providing me with the distraction I need to regain my bearings once more. I roll my eyes and shake my head at my friend.

“I think he’s into anyone with a pulse.”

“I don’t know about that,” she says, and I turn to her, confused. She lifts a nonchalant shoulder as she links her arm with mine and starts walking. “I’ve done some digging on him. In the past two years, there hasn’t been much about him out with women. Not dating, not hookups. His first couple of years in Indy, there was. It was splashed everywhere. But it’s stopped.”

“So he got better at hiding it,” I say, but Demi’s silence tells me she doesn’t necessarily agree.

“If you wanted to fuck him, I would approve,” she says, as we step into the elevator for the hotel.

“Excuse me?”

“If you wanted to fuck him, I would approve,” she repeats as if I didn’t hear her the first time. “Oh, come on. The sexual tension between you is insane.”

“I’m not going to fuck him, Demi. He’s an asshole.”

“Exactly. Just your type.” I stare at her, aghast, for long moments before she breaks character, loud laughter filling the metal elevator.

“God, you look like I told you to go into the gorilla exhibit and try to give one a hug.”

“Basically the same thing. As far as we know, he could be the mastermind behind this whole thing.” She tips her head and gives me a look. “What? If he wants to guilt his dad into bringing him back…” My words fall short, and even my own ears, they sound flimsy. It’s a theory, of course, but not a strong one.

“All I’m saying is it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get close to him. Use that to find out more information. That’s what we’re here for anyway.”

“I’d rather chew on glass. He’s so annoying,” I grumble. She lifts an eyebrow, looking at me like a mother might at a child dragging their feet to clean up their room.

“Well then, you should have picked a different career. He’s our biggest clue, and you’re in the perfect position to find out what he knows.”

And even though I know it’s true and that it’s what I have to do, those pesky butterflies have me wondering if getting close to Roman DeLuca wouldn’t be the absolute worst idea ever.

EIGHT

“What is this I hear about you showing up to press naked?” my dad asks, avoiding any greeting as I answer his call. I groan internally, knowing better than to do it aloud. I should have seen this coming. Not only is he the co-owner of the IndyCar team I am currently suspended from, but he’s the one who always did most of the disciplining growing up. My mom was around just long enough to get a nice payout when they divorced, and then it was just my dad and me. He took me along to work instead of handing me off to babysitters and nannies whenever he could, which gave me the opportunity to fall in love with all things that go with it from a very young age. As I got older and my father also became my boss, that line got a bit blurred.

“I wasn’t naked,” I grumble. “I had on boxers and a towel.”

”You know what I mean. It’s not giving the image you need to come back, Roman. It’s encouraging this playboy shit I told to grow out of.” My stomach churns with the reminder. “I was able to get away with suspending you pending an improvement in your image, but you haven’t done anything to help that. Blind items, old photo leaks, the crash, and now this?”

“The crash wasn’t my fault!” I say, my irritation bubbling over. “How the hell was I supposed to know the truck was going to seize like that?”

“It’s just a sign that you aren’t operating at your best. You know an engine—if you had your head in the game, you would have heard something was off.” He’s right, of course. That day, Tyler had been giving me shit, telling me I didn’t belong anymore and that he was going to embarrass me in the standings, and I was determined to prove him wrong. My ego was winning out over common sense, and it ended in disaster. “Sponsors don’t see the minutiae, Roman. They only see the big picture. They see recklessness, partying, arguments.” My jaw tightens, knowing a response won’t help me here. “This is why I wanted you to lie low, stay out of the papers and off the track—any track. If you’d listened to me, we wouldn’t have this issue.”

“I couldn’t not race for a year,” I mumble, feeling like a child.