AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He chuckles at that, but then his demeanor turns slightly somber. “And now?”
Something dark flows through me, my mood shifting because he knows, and so do I, but neither of us are going to talk about it. “I fucking hate losing to that perfect little pretty boy.”
He laughs again as we reach my trailer, and I open the door, both of us walking in. “That pretty boy earned that win, and once again, you were the goddamn villain trying to wreck him. What was that all about?”
I unzip my jumpsuit, annoyed because in that moment I wasn’t really thinking. My instincts took over, and I just wanted to win. “Winning.”
He nods like he knows exactly what that means, but he isn’t pleased. There’s a lot of pressure in this world. To win. To play the part. To do what you’re told, when you’re told. And while to most, I seem like the rebel, it’s a lie. But I do it better than everyone else, on and off the track. “You going to behave at the charity event tonight?”
Cash and Leslie host a dinner for St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital every year. Cash lost his first daughter to illness when she was a little kid. He’s been pretty damn vocal about it and how she lived far longer than anyone thought she would with the help of the hospital. This charity event means everything to my agent, and yeah, it’s the one night of the year I’ll agree to behave.
“Best behavior.”
He studies me for far too long, and I start to squirm. Cash was a racer back in the day. He was the one to beat. He was the idol we all grew up worshipping, and now he’s my agent. I got lucky when his protégé—Michael Monroe, the cocky motherfucker who has more racing records than anyone else—decided to retire last year and Cash took me on as his new client.
Michael helps Cash manage his clients now, but I mostly deal with Cash. And although I love to give him a hard time, I’ll always be in awe that Cash Phillips is my manager. Even though he annoys the shit out of me because he cares about me. That I’m not used to and can’t say I like in the slightest.
I mean, who has time for that shit?
He’s not a huge fan of the bad-boy persona my prior management set up, and he makes it known.
“No fights.”
I hold my hand up in mock surrender. “I would never.”
“I mean it. Harris will be there.”
I snort a laugh at the thought of getting into a bona fide fight with Sebastian Harris. “He’ll be on his leash.”
“And so will you.” He eyes me with cold seriousness Cash doesn’t often show.
I give him a clipped nod, not wanting him to worry.
I’m an asshole of epic proportions, but I’m not a ruin a charity event for a children’s hospital kind of asshole.
Nah. I’ll be on my best behavior for Cash, despite that pretty boy being in my presence once again.
3
SEBASTIAN
Everyone is here tonight. No one can resist a children’s charity, and why should we? It’s a great cause, and one Cash Phillips has dedicated his life to. He’s vocal about losing his first child at a really young age and how he wants to do everything he can to prevent that from happening to anyone else.
She had a rare heart disease and left this world far too soon. It tugs at all the heartstrings. I walk into the grand ballroom filled with elegantly dressed people, recognizing a lot of famous faces.
Not just the racing community either—which there are plenty, including Cash’s brothers-in-law, Levi and Phillip Adamson. I notice Michael Monroe and his wife, Dani, hanging out with them. All of them are retired from racing now, enjoying their lives as agents and commentators but mostly just raising their kids.
I see Ryan Bailey—the now-retired professional baseball player with his rockstar husband, Grady Bell, and a woman I don’t recognize, dressed in a dark red dress that sweeps the floor. There are plenty of other athletes, including famous football players, baseball players, and racers. Cash really called in the big guns for this one.
And then I see him.
Axel Lennon.
Damn it. I knew he’d be here, but I also knew that wouldn’t stop me from coming when my agent told me about this event. Because I can’t seem to say no.
Not to him.
His dark eyes meet mine from across the room in a silent agreement we’ve made so many damn times. He’s standing next to Cash, and goddammit, he looks good in a tuxedo. It shouldn’t be allowed. His lean muscled body is enveloped in perfectly tailored, expensive black fabric, which hugs him in all the right places. His dark hair is styled to perfection to look like he just rolled out of bed and threw on his tux.
