Page 33 of Heartbreaker

“Yeah. You’re pretty fucking hot, heartbreaker.” I tuck some of her hair behind her neck. “Are you going to tell everyone so they can give me shit for it?” She shakes her head vehemently.

“Hell no. That’s possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t need Courtney or Melanie getting any new ideas about you.” I lift an eyebrow.

“Really? That was hot?” I ask, brushing away her jealousy for another time.

“Oh, hell yeah. You got so turned on from us kissing that you came? Hot, Rome.”

“It was more the way you were rubbing on my leg and moaning my name,” I clarify, if only for my own ego.

“Same difference. I made playboy Roman DeLuca come in his pants. I deserve a badge of honor for that.” Even though I should be embarrassed, I let out a loud bark of laughter at that, then reluctantly set her down. My shorts are sticky against my body, and while it’s uncomfortable, I don’t care. I really don’t want to leave this bubble we’ve created. My fingers move, tipping her chin up, brushing my thumb over the apple of her cheek, asking the question I need to know.

“Are you going to avoid me anymore?” Her lips tip, and she shakes her head.

“No, I’m not going to avoid you anymore, Rome.” Her phone lets out a chirp for a new text, and she sighs. “But I really have to go. I promised Demi a girls’ night,” she whispers, voice filled with genuine regret.

“Okay. So long as you promise I can take you out soon.” There’s a moment of hesitation, but I press my lips together. “Something easy. Low-key. No PDA.”

“Deal.” With her word, I step back, helping her settle her shirt back down and trying to make her hair look less like she just dry humped a man in the storage closet. I do the best I can, but there’s nothing to do about the swollen lips and satisfied look on her face.

And I don’t think I would if I could.

EIGHTEEN

The next few days consist of press, two races, and a dozen stolen kisses, all of them leaving me unsatisfied and wanting more. Unfortunately, we haven’t had time to do anything but work, so I haven’t been able to convince Lana to spend more time with me.

Thankfully, she hasn’t been avoiding me outright, and there have been a fair number of heated moments in corners. Still, I desperately want more than five minutes alone with her, my hand on her ass and my tongue in her mouth. I’ve never found myself particularly eager to just talk to a woman, but then again, I’ve never encountered anyone like Lana.

When we have our first real day off in weeks, instead of spending it at the track as I’d originally planned, I find myself bribing the woman at the hotel’s front desk with some cash and a smile to tell me Lana’s room number. As I knock on the door, standing there with convenience store flowers and a treat in hand, I feel like a complete tool. It doesn’t get any better when the door opens to Demi. She takes me in for a moment, her face unreadable, before a huge grin spreads across her face.

“Lanaaaaa,” she says, singing her friend’s name. “You have a visitor!”

“A visitor? Who the hell—” she starts, but her words die out quickly when she steps out of the bathroom, her hair still damp from a shower. A drop of water drips down her neck, and I desperately wish I could run my tongue along it. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to take you out,” I say, giving her a smirk that has gotten me more women over the years than I can count. Lana, as always, is unaffected. Slowly, she accepts the flowers, looking at them with awe on her face and making me forget any lingering hesitation about bringing them. Next, I hand over the multicolored bag of Nerds Gummy Clusters. “I tried one, so you no longer have to pity my sheltered life. It’s pure sugar, Lana.” Finally, she gives me a small, confused smile.

“That’s the whole point. But what’s going on? What’s all this for?”

“It’s time for our first date, heartbreaker,” I say, trying to push back the uncharacteristic nervousness flooding through me.

“A date?” I nod.

“Yeah. Movie, mall, pretzel-adjacent treat.” Her confusion turns into something altogether different, as a grin that’s equal parts entertained and impressed takes over her gorgeous face. A moment later, though, something else passes her face, and she bites her lip, looking to Demi.

“I’d love to, but… Demi and I have plans⁠—”

“Not anymore, we don’t,” Demi says, crossing her arms on her chest. Lana turns to her crew chief and friend.

“Demi—” Her friend cuts her off, shooing her with her hands.

“Go. Go on the date with the hot bad boy. My god, Lana, live a little.“ Lana looks hesitantly between her friend and me, and I stand there, watching them. There are a few subtle eye gestures and head tips, a silent conversation I’m not privy to between them, before Lana sighs.

“Fine.”

“Don’t sound too eager, now,” I say with a laugh. She glares at me, but there’s no fire in the look.

“Don’t worry, I’m not.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Demi says, a shit-eating grin on her face. “She’s totally into you; she’s just being a pain about it.”