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“You still don’t think you’re gorgeous.”
“Max.” I kiss his nose. “I appreciate that you think I’m pretty, but objectively, and I say this without emotion, I’m an average-looking human. Especially around you and Anh and all of the beautiful people in this sport.”
“I don’t think that at all. I’ve never thought that.”
“Thank you. But you surely know what gorgeous women look like.”
“Seriously.” He traces my jawline. “I always looked at you like a slot machine jackpot.”
A look of horror crosses my face. “What?”
“Let me explain.”
“Please, because this sounds really weird and borderline offensive.”
He kisses my cheek. “Hear me out. Remember the time we were in Monaco at the casino and no one recognized me because I was new and we played all those slot machines?”
“Yep. Sure do.” It was one of my fondest memories, a time when we’d flown away together for a weekend, before he was superfamous. Before I got freaked out and before my father got angry.
“You know how you win some money if you get like, two cherries, or three oranges, on the machine?” He rotates his finger to mimic the spinning icons of the slot.
I nod.
“But those prizes aren’t the jackpot. I consider other women like the cherries or the oranges. I was happy with the result. I had fun playing. But I was chasing the jackpot. The row of sevens.”
“I see.” I’m not sure I do, but I want him to continue.
“You’re the sevens. You’re the jackpot. I don’t know why you are that for me, but you are. It’s a combination of your humor and your mind and your looks and everything about you. I’ve been chasing the jackpot of you for years.”
Now I’m stunned into silence. We lie there for a while, snuggling. I’m trying to come up with a witty retort and I can’t.
“You know, I like this idea of the cabin more and more,” he says, changing the subject. “I’ll have my assistant book a villa and a plane.” He lets out a laugh.
“What?” I ask, still reeling from his words.
“I remember when we were together before. I never dreamed I’d reach private jet levels of success.”
“Well, I always believed you would.” And that’s precisely why I’d ended our relationship. Because I knew he’d be a superstar, and that wasn’t a life I wanted to lead.
Yet here I am. In bed. In the middle of the maelstrom that comes with Formula World. I’m trying desperately to hang on to my normal life, and yet I’m planning on flying to Canada with him so I can soak up more time in his presence.
Because who knows how long this, us, will last. It’s a question I don’t want to ask myself, much less ask him. It sure seems like he’s interested, though, and that fact makes my heart soar. Best to take this slow, though.
I reach for my phone. “Probably I’ll fly separately, because I should go to Miami to check on my father.”
“Ohh, Mausbär. We can stop in Miami. Let’s fly together.”
“You’re sure?”
He kisses my nose. “Very sure.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
LILY
We manage to get out of the hotel (separately) and to the private airport (in different cars) without being seen. Max is now swarmed with a new crop of press wherever he goes because of his record-breaking race times in Austin.
This means we’ve got to take extra precautions about being spotted together. I’m still able to move around without much notice, probably because I’m able to throw on a pair of shorts, a T-shirt, and a ball cap and look like any other thirtysomething woman. I don’t have the luxe look about me, never have.
