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He grins at that but then turns to look out the glass window of his office, a nostalgic look on his face. “The world hasn’t totally changed. It hasn’t caught up. But strong people—like you”—he turns to look back at me—“and like Sebastian, that’s what’ll help them get there. They live for Sunday races. They love the adrenaline, and who you’re sleeping with won’t matter at the end of the day. They aren’t going to stop watching the race, and eventually, they’ll see the two of you—hopefully, anyway—together and happy, and you’ll just be racers.”
“Gay racers,” I say bitterly.
He shakes his head firmly at me. “Racers.”
“I don’t love him. I can’t be in love with Sebastian fucking Harris.”
He grins again, with that easy, cocky smile as he hops off his desk. “Don’t waste any more time worrying about what the world thinks. You’re a kickass racer. Not today—but on most days.” His smile widens. “Show them that. But you’re so much more than that too.”
I stand from my chair, hating that I don’t hate the words coming from his mouth.
“I can’t love him the way he deserves.”
He places a reassuring hand on my shoulder and sighs. “Love doesn’t have any rules. It makes its own rules, depending on the people involved. And you’ve never done anything by the book.”
I crack a smile at that.
That’s for damn sure.
10
SEBASTIAN
I shouldn’t be this damn nervous. I’m never this nervous for an interview. I’ve done plenty. Publicity. Charity. It doesn’t matter. I know my role, and I play it well.
But this is different, and dammit, Axel got into my head, whether I wanted him to or not.
There’s a knock on my front door, and I have no idea who it could be. But if it’s Jenny, I’m happy the door is locked so she couldn’t let herself in and yell at me again.
I look through the peephole and see the last person I expected. Unlocking the door, I pull it open and see Axel standing there, ever the bad boy in ripped jeans, t-shirt and a black leather jacket.
“What are you doing here?”
His eyes slowly take me in and then land on my face. “That’s what you’re wearing to your coming-out party?”
I glance down at my black dress pants and button-down shirt, then glare at him. “I don’t have time for your shit.”
I walk away from the door but don’t slam it in his face, and he steps inside, closing the door behind him. “I know. You have an interview.”
“I do.” I grab my wallet and my keys, putting them in my pockets. “So you should go because you’re not talking me out of this.”
Even though I think we both know he could, I don’t want him to. I want this so damn badly, I can taste it. I’m tired of worrying about what anyone else will say. I don’t care anymore. I just want to be me.
Free.
“You’re so goddamn stubborn.” I nearly laugh at that as I turn around to face him, but he doesn’t look pissed anymore. He seems almost amused.
“Why are you here?”
“You really piss me off, Harris.” He steps closer. I feel my breathing start to increase and my chest puffing up with air as he nears me.
“Feeling’s mutual, Lennon.”
His shoes hit mine, and I breathe in his sexy cologne as he levels his eyes on me. “You’re so much braver than me. Always have been.”
I just stand there, hypnotized by his eyes and unsure what to say to that. “Again, why are you here?”
His hand wraps around the back of my neck and grips hard but not enough to hurt. “I’m not ready to tell everyone about me.”
