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“Max!”
Lily’s voice soars through the condo. I wander into the hall in time to see her poke her face out of her bedroom door.
“There are cookies in the fridge. They’ll go to waste if someone doesn’t eat them.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” I head into the kitchen, hoping to push all the old memories of us and the conflicted anger into the corners of my brain. Cookies might help.
I ate a huge breakfast this morning at the hotel, but I’m still starving. The day after a race I’m always a bit off, dehydrated and hungry. I peek in her fridge and see a plate of cookies wrapped in plastic. Grabbing those and the lone carton of milk, I make my way over to the sofa.
The cookies are incredible. I take a guzzle from the milk carton, chiding myself for not getting a glass. Where are my manners? I shove a second cookie into my mouth, wondering if I should get a glass. One more sip—
“Max? Do you think I’ll need . . .”
Lily’s standing there, staring at me. I swallow and wipe my mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t find the glasses. I’m an animal for drinking out of the carton.”
She snorts a little laugh. “Don’t worry. It’s going to be tossed anyway. I can see you haven’t changed. Still starving the day after races?”
I pick up a third cookie. “Ja. Hey, who made these cookies? They’re amazing.”
“Me. I made them while watching the race yesterday.”
“Really?” I say through a mouthful. When did she become such a good baker? Back when we were together I don’t think she even knew how to boil water. I’m dying to ask her why she didn’t go to the race yesterday, eager to ask her a thousand questions, but since my mouth is full of cookie and she’s already probably disgusted by me, I keep chewing.
She screws up her pretty face. “You’re such a . . . guy.”
“Sorry, they’re so good. Don’t tell Lucas, he’ll be pissed that I’m eating too much sugar. Can’t believe you made these. You never used to bake—”
“I’m a different person, Max.”
“I can see that.” I swallow and wonder if I ever knew her at all.
“Listen. I’ve decided I’m going to pack light and buy anything I need while on the road. But what are the formal events in Austin like? Since that’s a newer race, I haven’t been. What did Papa go to last year? I don’t remember him talking about anything.”
“Umm.” I lick my lips, wishing I’d grabbed a napkin. “Last year there was a thing involving cowboy boots and hats. So bring those if you have them.”
She huffs off, muttering something about how she hates hats. If I recall correctly that pre-race party last year was the one where two American football cheerleaders wanted to have a threesome with me.
There was a time, post-Lily breakup, that I would’ve taken them up on it. But that was the old me that had gone off the rails in the wake of my breakup with Lily. I stopped being that guy a couple of years ago.
I was tired of being judged and tired of the people I was attracting. I’ve been a good boy for a while now and hope to keep it up. Older and wiser, I’d like to think.
I jam another cookie in my mouth and ponder if any of this is even going to matter. I’m not getting back together with Lily and she probably resents me for my playboy reputation. Pining over her isn’t going to make her want me again.
If she wasn’t the acting team owner, though. . . . I finish the rest of the cookie.
If Lily wasn’t acting team owner, I’d definitely tell her everything I’m feeling right now. Maybe explain how important she was to the trajectory of my life. How I screwed up by not fighting harder for her.
But she shares blame, too, so maybe it’s better if we don’t get into all that right now. She already seems distressed enough by the idea of taking the place of her father. It’s not going to be easy as a woman in charge of a racing team. She doesn’t need me mucking things up for her and causing any further controversy or scandal. God knows I’ve done enough of that in my career.
As much as Lily brings out emotions in me that no other woman has, it’s probably best if we keep this strictly professional.
Chapter Twelve
LILY
When we board our flight to Austin I immediately claim a table, declaring the need to spread out in the back of the jet. Seeing Max sprawled on my sofa, looking cozy with a plate of cookies and a carton of milk, inspired dangerous thoughts in my mind.
Thoughts of lazy Sundays together drinking coffee and kissing each other breathless. Dirtier thoughts too.
