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He scratches his neck. “I wish you’d told me.”
“I might have, if you hadn’t lost your shit in Austin.”
“I don’t lose my shit. I never lose my shit.” His mouth affects a slight, adorable pout.
“Yeah, you did. You tore into me for no reason at all.”
“I have a lot of anger over what happened between us. I’m trying to get over it. Lucas says I might need therapy to work out my feelings, but I’ve been trying to deal with it on my own. I’m sorry.”
I bite my lip as my limbs suddenly feel too heavy for my body. My god, I feel like shit.
“I understand why you broke it off all those years ago. You were justified, Lily. This is a me thing. I need to make peace with it, or let you go for good.”
This declaration steals the breath from my lungs.Don’t let me go, I want to scream.Never let me go.
There’s a sharp rap on the door. “Max?”
It’s Lucas.
“Yeah,” he calls, without taking his eyes off me. He reaches out and smooths a lock of hair from my face, and I want to cry because his touch is so tender.
“We need to get to the track. Practice starts in two hours.”
“Coming.” Max sighs. “Sorry for my attitude earlier. I had a shitty night’s sleep.”
“I did too,” I whisper.
“Can I come to your room tonight?”
I nod.
He leans down and brushes a soft kiss on my cheek. “Let’s get back.”
He leaves the room and I change into my blouse, feeling warmer than before. I can’t stand the feeling of elation going through me, because I know my heart’s on the line, but I also can’t wait until tonight.
Chapter Thirty
MAX
As I expected because of my terrible night’s sleep, practice was shit. That’s okay, though, because I fully intend to make up for it tomorrow. In this circuit, drivers are allowed two full days of practice, unlike in other race circuits, so this is to my advantage. Today I got to know the track, drove in a mediocre way, and then the rest of the week I’ll be untouchable.
At least, that’s what I’m telling Lucas—and myself.
What are your plans for tonight?he texts me.It’s nine p.m. in Las Vegas. Want to drive up and down the Strip?
Lucas loves seeing the sights at every race stop. He can’t stop talking about that rock art installation earlier. Normally I’m up for some nighttime fun, but I have other ideas.
Going to hit the sack early. See you tomorrow.
He texts me a thumbs-up, and I suspect he knows I’m blowing him off for Lily. At least he’s not lecturing me—that will come tomorrow if I don’t get my shit together during practice.
I grab a pillow from the bed in my suite—it’s got the perfect level of cushioning—and slip out of my room. Lily’s suite is down the hallway, and I knock softly.
She opens the door, looking even more gorgeous than earlier. She’s in a long-sleeved pink and white striped pajama top and matching shorts.
“Hey, I was doing some work, watching clips from last year’s Vegas race. Also, I checked in on my parents. Papa’s feeling better. He suggested we use a two-tire strategy for Vegas. Oh, and Mum claims she hasn’t killed my plants.” She walks away from me and I shut the door, suddenly feeling awkward.
She closes her laptop and stretches. There’s her bare stomach again, and I ache, positively ache, looking at her.
