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I’m greeted with silence. There’s no point in ignoring the obvious.
“Max, what happened today during practice? It wasn’t the car.”
He shakes his head while staring at the skyline. The light from the buildings gives enough illumination for me to see the angles of his face, the stern furrow of his brow, and the slight downturn of his lush mouth.
“It was all me.”
“I see.” But he’d done so well in practice on Tuesday. Yesterday wasn’t so great, and neither was today. He knows it, I know it, hell, the entire team knows it.
“I got about an hour of sleep last night. Today I wasn’t at the top of my game. I’m sorry.”
That’s when it hits me. He’d done so well on Tuesday because he’d gotten great sleep. Next to me.
“You’ve overcome the sleep issue before. How did you do it?”
“I worked with a sleep specialist. And was doing so damned well until—”
He looks at the bottle of sparkling water in his hands. The muscles in his jaw bunch and he looks on the verge of regret. He shakes his head, staring at the skyline. His face is a silhouette cut from marble, a perfect beauty that would’ve inspired Michelangelo.
“Until?”
“Until you came back into my life.” There’s an uncharacteristic bitterness to his tone.
“Oh god,” I whisper, my stomach sinking. “Now it’s my turn to be sorry.”
We stand in silence for a beat, and I can’t help but stare at his beautiful profile. I remember the way he felt when he was holding me two nights ago. And the taste of his lips seven years ago, the way it felt to have his hands on me, the way his tongue felt exploring me the nights we spent together.
My tongue tingles with the memory of him, his essence an addiction. I also feel a familiar wave of regret, because I hurt this beautiful, decent man. This is all my doing.
“Lily, it’s my fault. My mistake. I invited you into my bed the other night and we ended up cuddling.” The way he says the wordcuddleis as if he’s uttering a curse word. “And since then my sleep has been a mess. I’ll work through it, I’ll have to. I have an emergency video call with the sleep therapist tomorrow morning before quali.”
“Do you think that will help?”
He turns to me. “Honestly, I don’t know. So much of this is emotional, Lily. The off days are when I’m supposed to bring it all back into balance. My fitness, my eating, my sleep, my emotions. Two of those are going well. Two aren’t. Lucas has some ideas on how to fix it.”
“Does he know about us staying together the other night?”
Max grimaces. “He’s not happy about it.”
“And you? How did you feel about it?”
“What? Us sleeping next to each other?”
“Yeah.” A thousand questions go through my mind, many of them about the women he’s had sex with. Surely he’s slept next to them during race weeks. Or perhaps not. Regardless, we must try to replicate Tuesday’s incredible practice performance.
“It felt way too good to be real.”
Those words slay me. Embolden me. Maybe even assuage my guilt a little.
I glance around, to check to see if anyone’s nearby. What I’m about to propose would scandalize the team, my father, and the sport. “We need to fix this. I want you on that podium Sunday. It’s my first race as team owner, or interim team owner, or whatever. I need to show everyone I’m serious.”
“I’m in full agreement with that sentiment, but what do you suggest?” He huffs out a little laugh. “It’s not like I can take sleeping pills, since they’re testing me daily for every substance known to man. You know they’re banned, and they leave me groggy.” He takes a long sip of his water.
There’s no one close to us, so I edge a few inches in Max’s direction and lean in, so my shoulder is touching his. “We’re going to try something tonight. Sleeping together.”
This makes him swallow hard, then cough, and he forms a fist with his free hand and presses it to his mouth. “What did you say?”
“I know it sounds strange. But hear me out. Obviously, you got excellent sleep on Monday, and it showed on the track Tuesday. We’re going to do that again and see how you do for qualifying. Exactly what we did the other night. Sleep in the same bed, cuddle, and spoon. Nothing else.” I place firm emphasis on the last two words, as if I’m trying to remind myself of this fact.
