Page 56 of Downforce

I want to ask him what the hell that was. Why would she say those things to him? But I remain quiet.

“You needed the room,” Max says, taking a sledgehammer to the silence.

I nod even though it wasn’t a question.

He extends his arms as if offering it to me. “Have at it.”

When he walks past, my first instinct is to reach for his arm. Thankfully, I stop before I can embarrass myself.

For all I know, whatever I just walked in on has no effect on him in the slightest. Maybe his mother’s words hit me harder than they ever did him.

“Thanks,” I say just above a whisper right before he exits, leaving me alone.

I watch his back as he leaves, not stopping to give me a backwards glance, and my heart drops at the sight of his slightly slumped shoulders as he walks away.

CHAPTER 17

Annalise

“Are you taking care of yourself?” my mother asks as I pace one of the quieter halls of the paddock.

It’s Sunday, only a few hours before the start of the Grand Prix. I’ve spent the morning running around to scheduled meetings, and shuffling Travis from one place to another, or blocking potential sponsors—and even Norm—from taking up too much of his time before the race.

Now, I’m on the phone with my mom, who along with my dad is up in the middle of the night to watch my brother race. The one good thing about not having much time during the past couple of days is that I’ve been successfully able to avoid the lump in my chest.

Almost.

It’s always in the middle of the night when I should be sleeping that my guilt-riddled thoughts manage to catch up with me.

“Yes, mom,” I drone without thinking.

“I don’t believe you,” she immediately replies. “I understand what a big help you are to your brother and Alyssia there but you have to remember to take care of yourself too, Annalise,” my mother lightly scolds.

“It’s my job to be on top of things,” I remind her. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“Not at a cost to your own well-being.”

I bite my bottom lip, trying but failing to ignore the guilt that’s ridden me ever since that day I walked in on Max’s mother and him.

“I understand,” I say, mostly because I don’t want to have my mom continue to beat a dead horse. “And I hope you’re taking your own advice,” I say. “You and Dad are the ones up in the middle of the night.”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday,” she reminds me of the huge time difference. “We’ll catch up on our sleep when we can.”

“You do know that’s not actually a thing, right?” I pounce on that little factoid. “The body doesn’t actually catch up on sleep. Which is why it’s important to keep the body in a regular circadian rhythm because …”

I trail off when my mother clears her throat. I press my lips together to stifle my smirk.

“Anyway, what do you think Trav’s chances are today?”

“To win?” I ask. “You know I don’t like to speculate too much. It’s bad luck.”

“But he’s starting from pole. His season is off to a better start than last season.”

“Which is why we continue to not speculate. Don’t want to jinx anything,” I counter.

“I don’t believe in jinxing. But speaking of, keep an eye on that teammate of his.”

My chest compresses when my mother brings up Max.