Page 47 of Downforce

He’s pacing back and forth, shoulders hunched as he mumbles something to himself. A memory from nearly eight years ago resurfaces. Another accident he had with my brother.

He was responsible for that one too.

“You did that on purpose,” I accuse, slamming the door behind me. My comment an angry ball of flames hurled in his direction.

His vision lasers down on me. “What was that, princess?”

My teeth itch at his sneer.

“Travis had the position.”

One second Max is standing across the room, and the next, he’s directly in front of me. His gaze beating down on me, holding me in his snare.

“The position was mine to take.”

“You sideswiped him on purpose,” I accuse though I don’t know if I believe that.

“Maybe your precious brother just wasn’t good enough to hold me off.”

“Ha!” I scoff. “Or you were just being a dirty driver.”

His top lip jumps, revealing a flash of teeth. “Right, because I’m not good enough to earn this win. I’m a, what did you call me?” He snaps his fingers. “A waste was it?”

I’m shaking my head. “I never said⁠—”

“Bullshit,” he cuts off. “I heard you. Two years ago, in Monaco. You called me a waste⁠—”

“No,” I cut him off this time. “I never said that. I never would’ve said that,” I say louder when his lips part as if he’s about to call me a liar. “I know I didn’t say it because it’s not true. And I’m not a fucking liar.

“What I said was that your behavior is a waste of your potential. You’re the most technically skilled driver on the damn grid and yet you don’t act like it.

“You waste your time and talent staying out late, treating yourself and your career like it’s a big joke, but you’re the one who’s not clued in on it. You have the potential to be better than anyone out there. The talent is yours, but you lack the heart.”

I push out a harsh breath, remembering the very words I said two years ago to a friend while out at a club the night before the race. Max was also there and must’ve overheard me.

“That’s what the hell I said.”

By the time I’ve finished I’m breathing heavy, Max is breathing heavier, and an almost palpable energy coats the air surrounding us. It weighs on us, drawing us chest to chest. Max’s hand rests on my arm, and for the life of me, I can’t remember the moment he first touched me.

He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes do a lot of talking. I become mesmerized by the way they’ve darkened, giving off that golden shine that I’ve seen before.

I refuse to take my words back.

I meant every one. Even if it aches to admit how highly I think of him as a driver and it feels like a betrayal to say out in the open like this.

“Max, mate!” Edwin’s voice cuts through the tension. “That Townsend is a bloody wanker!” He bursts into the room.

I snatch my arm out of Max’s hold, and he takes a step back, allowing me the space to try to normalize my breathing. Edwin stops short, and I feel his eyes on me but I don’t look his way.

“I’m going to find Travis,” I say as if I need to explain myself.

I move past Edwin, who has remained silent, but keeps looking my way.

“Oh,” I say, finally pausing to look at Edwin, though I feel Max eyeing me. “Watch how you speak about my brother.” I glare at him before exiting the room.

CHAPTER 15

Max