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“I’m so happy right now,” I confess to him.
“I am, too.” Then Mason’s eyes dance mischievously at me. “But I’m already messing this up.”
“What? In what way?”
“You told me to kiss you and never stop. I’m not kissing you now, am I?”
I get up from the bed and climb on top of him, straddling his lap. Mason’s eyes widen in surprise as I wind my hands around the nape of that sexy neck of his. “No, you’re not. And that’s very disappointing,” I say, dropping my mouth so it’s hovering just above his. “So what are you going to do about it?”
Mason captures my mouth with his and then flips me over on the mattress, falling on top of me as we both laugh. “I’m going to kiss you until you beg me to stop,” he declares, his voice low.
I melt into him as his lips claim mine again. As I feel his body weight pinning me down, his tongue tangling with mine and his hands in my hair, I know one thing for sure.
It’s going to be a very long time before I tell him to stop, I think happily.
Chapter Thirteen
It’s a beautiful Friday in Monza, with clear blue skies and warm temperatures. This area of Italy is not far from Milan, built on the banks of the Lambro River. It’s full of stunning historic architecture, like the Royal Villa. You can also see mountains in the distance. This is the home of Monza Park, the largest urban park in Europe. The track is actually located inside it, which makes for a beautiful setting for the race with the lush greenery and trees surrounding it. It’s rich in scenery and history, and I love coming here.
And the race weekend really kicks into gear now with the first practice session.
I stand at the back of the garage, dressed in my black Collings Motors polo shirt, credential around my neck and phone in my hand, ready to do anything Caleb needs me to do. I look over at my brother, who is standing next to his race engineer, arms folded across his chest as they study the monitor in front of them. Mechanics are hard at work on his car. Music is blasting through the speakers overhead, heavy on drums and bass, as it is on every race weekend. I swear I know every song on this soundtrack, and it’s not by my own free will.
But I don’t care about the repetitive songs. I can’t stop smiling. I glance over to Mason’s side of the garage. He hasn’t come out yet but should be arriving any minute now. Mechanics are also working on his car, and his race engineer, Zach, is studying data on the monitors. His photo is on the wall, and as I stare at it, I can’t help but think I’ve been kissed by that man.
Not the sexy race car driver. But Mason.
My pulse quickens in anticipation, as it does whenever I know I’m going to be around him. I spent hours with Mason on Tuesday. Kissing him. Laughing with him. Having dinner together and getting to know him better. We did manage to tear ourselves away from each other long enough to record the wardrobe sequence, which I think turned out excellent. I’m saving that footage and will not share it until I have content stacked up so I will have consistency when I launch on social media.
Wednesday, we both flew out to Italy, Mason travelling with Luke and me with the Collings Motors team. We didn’t risk trying to see each other until I’ve had a chance to tell Caleb we’re dating, which I plan to do tonight, before our big private sponsor dinner in Milan. Once I’ve had that conversation with my brother, Mason and I will discreetly try to find time together during race weekends. And I cannot wait.
Suddenly I feel a presence. I turn and look over my shoulder and find Mason staring at me. He’s entered the garage, his black-and-silver racing suit hanging unzipped off his hips, the black fireproof undershirt fitting snug across his body, the CM logo stretching across the front and the sleeves clinging to his defined biceps and shoulders.
I will never get over seeing how hot Mason looks in his racing suit.
Like ever.
I lift my eyes to meet his. The corners of his mouth curve up slightly, as if he’s about to smile but is repressing it. Mason’s eyes tell me everything I need to know. They are bright. Engaged. Crinkling up in the corners as he stares at me, and I know exactly what he’s thinking.
He’s happy to see me.
My pulse quickens as he leans in a bit closer, just as it did when he sat next to me in the canteen this morning for breakfast.
“Are you busy keeping the second team driver in line?” he murmurs good-naturedly to me.
I can’t help but chuckle at that. Caleb may be actively fighting Mason for the number-one position, but one thing Mason and I have already talked about is the fact that he will never put me in any kind of awkward position because of my brother. What happens in meetings, what happens on the track, will stay here. In the racing world.
And it will never be a part of our private lives when we spend time together.
“Caleb doesn’t need me to keep him in line when it comes to racing stuff,” I say. “It’s when he has to do press conferences and social media things that I have to force him to participate.”
Mason grins. Caleb’s grumpiness about anything to do with the media is well-known across the paddock.
“Do you think you could swing by my room between practice sessions? I have a question for you,” he says. “It’s kind of important that I see you.” He stares at me, absently running his fingers over his lower lip. I swear my throat goes dry as I watch him.
“Sure,” I say casually.
“See you,” he says before turning and walking over to Zach to prepare for the first practice.