Page 52 of Downforce

Mum typically shows up to the first race of the season and then most of the European races, but rarely the ones in the Far East or the Americas.

I can’t remember the last time she’s attended a race in Bahrain.

“If you want to come to Bahrain, you contact Edwin yourself to schedule it.” I disconnect the call before she can reply. I know that’ll make her angrier, but I can’t muster the energy to care.

I can’t remain on the phone with her another second.

Before I can discard said phone from my grasp, it rings again.

“I told you to contact Edwin,” I say without looking at the screen.

“Bloody hell. What’s the matter?” Edwin asks.

I push out a heavy breath, fighting to calm myself down.

“Contact me for what?” he asks. “Are those wankers on about the Brazilian race and driving your father’s car again?”

“What?” I ask, confused. “No. It’s Mum. She’ll probably call you soon. Did you need something?” I ask to change the subject.

“Have you spoken with Drake? Did he give you a lot of shite for Suzuka?”

“It’s settled,” is all I give Edwin, not wanting to go over it all again.

Edwin’s quiet for a while, something that never happens.

“No big deal. Water under the bridge. Anyway, the most important reason I called was to remind you about this party in Nice tonight. I’m in France now, but will have a car pick you up at about⁠—”

“I’m not going,” I cut him off.

“What? This has been planned for weeks. They’re expecting you.”

“Cancel it.” Neither my head nor my heart are in it.

“You don’t have the heart.”

I don’t understand why those specific words keep rounding the bend in my mind, but they do, and all I know is that the last place I want to go is a party with a bunch of sycophants who will use their proximity to ask for free race tickets or to set up a meeting with the owners of Amato.

“The only place I’m going today is the gym and then to bed early,” I tell Edwin. “Make up whatever excuse you have to.”

“Are you sure, mate? Natalia, that beautiful Russian girl you spent time with months ago, says she’ll be there.”

I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “Cancel it.”

I hang up and toss my phone to the opposite end of the couch before rising to my feet. By the time I reach my bedroom, my shirt is halfway over my head. I quickly change into a grungy T-shirt and a pair of running shorts.

It’s time for a workout.

CHAPTER 16

Annalise

“Trav’s race isn’t for a couple of hours, but I came early to watch the F2 qualifying,” I tell Jennifer over the phone as I wind my way through mounds of people clamoring for their front row seats around the track restaurant.

This weekend we’re in Bahrain for the fourth Grand Prix of the season. The energy surrounding this event is almost as palpable as the heat. Every time I land in Bahrain, I’m taken aback by the heat.

As if the climate wasn’t oppressive enough, I haven’t been sleeping well due to a series of dreams that have nothing to do with racing.

My mind drifts off to conjure up images of pink lips right before they descend over mine. Lips that hadn’t lingered long enough in real life, but in my dream? He’d touched, teased, and tantalized with those lips, and I allowed it. Directly after breaking the kiss, I’d gotten lost in those damn eyes.