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She feels right, in a way no other woman has.
“You know I hate it when people tell me to stay calm.” Her voice is the vocal equivalent of the wordsneer.
The minute the doors slide shut she wriggles out of my embrace and slumps against the elevator wall, pressing her palm to her forehead.
“Holy hell, I’d forgotten what that was like. It’s one of the reasons I’ve tried to stay away all these years,” she says with a sigh. “I don’t know how you’ve handled it for so long.”
I can only guess the other reasons. “I’m sorry. We should’ve anticipated that. The news of your father and you is going to make racing headlines for weeks.”
She squints. “Don’t you have bodyguards these days?”
“Normally, I do, but I gave them the night off. Thought I could handle eating dinner in the hotel with you then go to my room. Apparently not.”
The elevator stops and the doors slide open. She bursts out, not waiting for me, and I walk fast to keep up with her.
“We should look into a security detail for you,” I say as we stop at a door at the far end of the hall.
She’s holding her key card in midair, her face drawn and pale. The encounter with the paps really shook her. It’s something I take for granted, but it’s only at times like this that I realize how utterly absurd and nerve rattling it really is.
“Yeah. It’s one of the many things on my to-do list.” Her voice quakes a little.
It’s only then that I realize her hands are shaking, almost too much to insert the key card. I gently take the card from her and insert it into the slot, pushing the door open. More than anything, I want to wrap my arms around her and tell her it’s all going to be okay.
But I know that’s exactly what she doesn’t want, and what would ruin me. She dislikes hugs, and even more than that, hates when people question her competence. If I try to calm her down she’ll assume I don’t have confidence that she can handle this situation—or run the team.
And truthfully, she’d be right. I’m not sure she’s capable of either. Not because she’s not smart enough or competent enough. It’s because Formula World is largely an old boys club, and the pressure from the media is relentless.
Her hazel eyes flash to me and she steps inside. “Okay, we’ll talk more about the engine in a day or two. Let me send some emails. I need to sort through things in here. This was my father’s room, and his assistant is supposed to have sent me a bunch of information that I need to read through tonight. I have a mountain of stuff to look into, and hopefully by tomorrow I’ll be up to speed.”
She’s rambling, like she always does when she’s nervous. God, if I could only fix all this for her. But I can’t. Not now, and maybe not ever. I can’t get emotionally involved with her again, because it might break me. I don’t trust her fully after what happened between us. Don’t trust her with my heart.
After giving her back the key, I run my fingers through my hair and glance down the hall, hoping that the hotel won’t let any press up here. “Listen, this news about you and your dad is going to hit the papers and be wild this week. Maybe for a couple of weeks. You haven’t been around the sport, so you don’t know how bad it’s gotten with paparazzi and bloggers and amateur videographers. And don’t even get me started with the TikTok creators.”
“I’ll deal with it. I can handle anything. It can’t be worse than what I experienced at my last job.” Her jaw is set in a rigid line.
“If you need any help, I’m always here. Tonight, I’m right down the hall. You can call or knock for anything. You know that, right?”
She shoots me an appreciative little smile. “Thanks.”
By now I’m filling the entire doorway, resting my forearm against the frame. “And maybe at some point we should discuss us.”
“Max, absolutely not. I’m in no shape for that tonight, or tomorrow, or ever. What happened between us is in the past. We were kids. Let’s leave it at that. We’ve got some serious adult shit going on here and I’ve got a team to run. Your job is to win. That’s all. Win for the team. For my father.”
Our eyes meet, and I swear, the temperature in the air notches up about ten degrees. The desire to take her in my arms, the desire to kiss her, is too powerful. I wish I could tell her that all these years, I’ve won races for her.
A memory of the first time I saw her flashes in my brain. It was at a club. Hours after we met, we kissed and kissed in a hallway, risking everything. When she looked at me, it was as if she could read my mind and see what I was thinking. We had so much in common. I’d like to know if we still do, and there’s only one way to find out.
“Lily,” I whisper.
We’re only about a foot apart, and it would be easy for me to step forward and claim her mouth. Like I used to. But this is such a delicate, messed up situation that I don’t dare.
If she wants me, she can kiss me. Fuck, I hope she kisses me, trust be damned.
“Max.” My name on her lips makes my heart soften like it hasn’t in years. I used to love when she whispered it in my ear when we were in bed together. It made me feel virile and invincible.
The tension between us crackles and sparks. The moment I’ve wanted for so long is finally here. I lick my lips, anticipating the taste of her.
Everything about Lily’s appearance is different from the last time I saw her. Her hair is darker and shorter, her eyes are red and tired, her clothes are new and trendy. And then there’s the sadness in her eyes, which I’ve never seen before. But the one thing that hasn’t changed is how fucking gorgeous she is to me.
