CHAPTER 21
Willow
Dev’s lips on mine feels like a win of my own.
He did the hard work, yet I’m reaping the reward, even if it’s not the prize I anticipated. But this is absolutely what I want. What I’ve wanted for a long, long time.
So I kiss him back.
His tongue brushes mine, and my body hums in response. He tastes sweet, like the electrolyte drink he downs after every race, a hint of cherry and something else I can’t place. It’s a reminder of the feat he’s just pulled off, and a fresh wave of joy rolls over me.
He did it. He won. And he did it with an unreliable car and a team that doesn’t support him the way they should. It’s a victory he deserves to celebrate in any way he wants. And if it’s me he wants . . .
His stubble scrapes against my skin, and I sink my fingers into his sweat-damp hair to pull him closer. A groan rumbles low in his throat as he hauls me to him, hands firm on my waist, possessive, his touch nearly searing. I grip him tighter, holding him to me, possessive in my own right, not wanting to give this up.
Only, this can’t last. It was never meant to, as proven by the end date of our arrangement. And maybe this is part of that – a perk of the job. It, too, will end when we walk away from each other. More likely, it ends when one of us walks out that door.
I push those thoughts aside and focus on the here and now, like the way his mouth slants greedily over mine. I tilt my head in invitation and melt into him, shivering as his hands wander from my waist and brush under my breasts, to the slight fullness at the sides. Goosebumps follow his course up to my collarbones and neck. He finishes the journey by cradling my face so tenderly I can’t help but let out a little sigh. It’s both a plea for more and gratitude for his gentleness. He knows how to handle me, knows what I like. He even seems to know, as he slows his movements and eases up, that if this lasts any longer, I won’t be able to resist taking this further.
His last kiss lingers, somehow sweeter than the rest, and he strokes over my cheekbones with his thumbs as I slowly wake from the dream.
‘I’ve been wanting to do that again since last year,’ he murmurs, his lips a whisper away from my own.
I release my hold on his hair and slide my hands to his chest, fingers curling into his race suit. I’m still lightheaded and kiss-drunk, so I ask the question without a second thought. ‘Then why didn’t you?’
His mouth pulls up at the corner. ‘I’m pretty sure we both decided it was a bad idea.’
I swallow hard, but I don’t let him go, even if reality is pressing in again. ‘You’re right. We did.’
My stomach sinks an inch at a time. The end is already here. We’re about to pull away from each other and once again agree this was a heat-of-the-moment thing. That it meant nothing, even if we both know that’s a lie.
Except Dev’s hands don’t leave my face, and the flash in his eyes tells me he’s not going to lie about what’s happening.
‘If this is such a bad idea,’ he says, his voice tight, ‘then tell me why I want to kiss you again. Why I can’t get you out of my head. Why, every time I see you anywhere near another man, I want to drag him away from you and make sure he never comes close to you again. Tell me, Willow. Tell me why I feel that way.’
My throat constricts as he stares down at me. The burning passion in his gaze makes me want to push up onto my tiptoes and kiss him once more just to get him to close his eyes. He can’t look at me like that, or we’ll make choices that can’t be taken back.
Instead, all I can do is whisper, ‘I don’t know.’
He releases his hold on my face and lets out a heavy breath, dropping his head back before righting it again. But he doesn’t step away. He settles his hands on my waist, keeping me close. His message is clear. He’s not about to let me walk away.
And I don’t plan to go anywhere. I’m not ready to reach the end of this.
‘Then tell me how you feel,’ he urges, a faint note of desperation in his tone. ‘Tell me I’m not the only one going crazy.’
He must know how I feel. But maybe we both need to hear it again to believe it. ‘It’s not just you.’
He presses his forehead to mine and shakes his head just a little, like he can’t believe this is the situation we’ve found ourselves in, even though he’s the one who made the move – the one who once again changed everything for us. ‘Fuck, Willow.’
‘I know,’ I whisper, tightening my grip on him.
His jaw works as he takes in several steady breaths, his fingers pressing into my back. The pressure keeps me grounded at a time when I could easily float away.
‘I know this . . . this is a lot,’ he finally says. ‘But I don’t want you to decide later that this was a mistake. It wasn’t for me. And it wasn’t the last time either.’
I don’t regret calling it a mistake. It was the right thing to do, the right way to play things back then, but I can’t say the same now.
‘This isn’t a mistake.’ It’s the truth, but it’s not as simple as that. ‘But I don’t know what any of it means.’
We can let out all our long-held secrets, make all these confessions, but they don’t matter if we can’t figure out where and how things go from here.
Dev draws back enough to look in my eyes. ‘It means I don’t want to pretend it’s easy for me to stay away from you. I’m done acting like I don’t want to be near you every second I can.’ He sweeps my hair over my shoulder, fingers lingering on my nape. ‘I like you, Willow. So much that sometimes I forget what’s supposed to be keeping us apart.’
He might, but I can’t. My brother, this job, the risk of relationships and reputations ruined . . . There’s so much at stake. And yet that doesn’t stop me from saying, ‘I like you too. A lot.’
His smile turns teasingly smug, but I can practically feel the excitement thrumming under his skin at my admission. ‘Yeah, I kind of knew that. I mean, you did already drunkenly confess your feelings for me.’
I scoff to cover a laugh. ‘Shut up.’
The humour he’s brought to the moment makes some of my worries drift away. It’s like we’re ourselves once again. Dev and Willow, class clown and the girl trying not to laugh at all his jokes.
He twirls one of my curls around his finger, his grin back but his gaze still soft. ‘Nah, then I can’t tell you how much I wish I hadn’t let you walk away from me back then. I should have gone after you.’
I shake my head. ‘I wouldn’t have listened. I was too embarrassed.’
‘What about now?’ He searches every inch of my face. ‘Still too embarrassed?’
‘No. Not in the slightest.’
He’s leaning in again, and this time I’m ready for the kiss. So I close my eyes and tilt my head back, waiting for his lips to graze mine.
But a loud knock on the door has me rearing back. Dev doesn’t let me go far, though. He reacts quicker than I can, looping an arm around my waist, keeping me to him. Like he’s not concerned that the person on the other side of the door could burst in and catch us like this.
Thankfully, he’s right. Only a voice floats through, telling Dev that he’s needed for interviews.
Over my head, he responds, and then he dips his chin again to look at me. ‘They love to interrupt us, don’t they?’
Glancing away, I force a chuckle at his joking comment. I don’t find the idea of getting caught very funny.
Dev cups my jaw, prompting me to look at him again. ‘Hey,’ he says softly, the humour gone. ‘We’ll talk more about this later, all right?’ He waits until I nod slightly before continuing. ‘I have to get back to the team, but this isn’t me walking away from you. Clearly, there’s something between us. And we have to figure out where it goes from here.’
I nod, swallowing hard. ‘We do.’
‘We will.’ His lips find mine for a parting kiss that leaves me breathless. ‘Go back to the hotel,’ he murmurs, drawing back just far enough to say the words. ‘Get changed. We’re going out tonight.’
——
‘I saw the race!’ Chantal screams when she picks up my call. ‘I can’t believe your boy won!’
I breathe out a laugh, imagining her jumping up and down in our apartment while I’m getting ready alone in another nondescript hotel room. I miss her even more now that I have something major to tell her.
‘Yeah, it was a big surprise,’ I say, cradling the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I paw through my suitcase, searching for an outfit to wear tonight. ‘Hey, are you . . . Are you busy right now? I can call back later.’
‘Pfft, as if I’ve got anything better to do.’ Something that sounds like a chip bag crinkles in the background. She must be settling in to get caught up on Love Island. Normally, I’d be right there with her. ‘Hit me. What’s up?’
I’ve been dying to talk to her about what happened with Dev since the second he stepped out the door of his driver room, leaving me to press my fingers to my swollen lips and replay the memory. It was . . . amazing. Fantastic. I felt absolutely schoolgirl giddy, but what comes next makes me anxious. Undoubtedly, I need a second opinion. I’ll probably force Grace to go through it all with me too once she answers my texts.
‘I . . .’ How the hell do I even start this conversation? ‘Dev, he . . .’ I take a shuddering breath. Fuck it, I just need to get it out there. ‘Dev and I kissed today,’ I blurt.
Her gasp is followed by shocked silence that lasts so long I worry the call got disconnected. But nope, she’s still on the line when I pull the phone back to check. And I’m glad I do, because her shriek a second later might have burst my eardrum if I hadn’t.
‘I knew it would happen!’
I wait another beat before putting her on speakerphone, setting the device next to my suitcase and sitting cross-legged in front of it. ‘Yeah, you and Grace called it,’ I mumble, still in disbelief that it happened. ‘I probably should have listened to you guys in the first place.’
It might have saved me some restless nights and days of pining if I hadn’t insisted that Dev and I keep things strictly friendly. But honestly, I don’t regret the path we’ve taken, because it means we’ve both had time to think about it. To let our feelings grow without the pressure of knowing that this was on the horizon. I like how we got here. I like how we’ve found our way to each other. It feels right, even if we have a lot of details to work through.
‘I’ll forgive you for this misstep,’ Chantal teases. ‘So, are you done acting like you two aren’t in love with each other?’
My face flames, and I freeze with my hand on a pile of dresses. ‘I – I wouldn’t go that far,’ I stammer. ‘But . . . I don’t think we’re just friends any more.’
Her voice is softer when she speaks again. ‘You haven’t been for a while, babe.’
She’s not wrong. We’ve been dancing around our feelings for ages now. But am I ready to give in to the pull, the magnetism, that exists between us?
‘I don’t even know what I want from him,’ I confess to her. ‘A one-time hookup to get this out of our systems? A friends-with-benefits situation? An actual relationship?’
Saying the options out loud makes everything feel a little too real. As anxiety rises in my chest, I barrel on. ‘Maybe a hookup is all this can be. Once my contract is finished, he’ll still be travelling around the world while I’m back in New York, and there’s a chance I won’t see him again for months. How’s a relationship supposed to work like that?’
‘There are plenty of drivers who have partners and families,’ Chantal points out. ‘They seem to be doing just fine. Why would you and Dev be any different?’
I suddenly can’t seem to think of any of those reasons, but I’m sure there are thousands just waiting to spring up and tear us down. Do I want to risk that? Can I take the leap of faith that would be necessary to even pursue something with him?
‘No matter what we do, it won’t be easy,’ I finally say. That’s the only conclusion I can come to right now. Because the idea of being without him feels just as hard.
‘Easy is overrated,’ she counters. ‘What matters is making yourselves happy.’
And therein lies the problem – I don’t know how to do that.
There’s one thing I do know, though. ‘I’m scared, Chantal,’ I whisper.
Being with Dev in any form means opening myself up to another chance at heartbreak. I can’t imagine he’d ever cheat like Jeremy did, but I also can’t imagine being his forever first choice. Now that his reputation is repaired, he can have any woman he wants, so why would he settle for me?
I’m fragile and weak, practically held together with glue and stretched-out rubber bands. Some days I can barely keep up with the breakneck pace of following the team around the world, and it’s nothing short of a miracle that I haven’t fallen completely behind or gotten seriously hurt. Someone should slap a sticker on my forehead that says handle with care.
Would he really be up for tolerating that? And for how long?
Then there’s my brother. I’ve already torn Oakley’s friend group apart once. I don’t want to be the reason it happens again. If Dev and I broke up, no matter how amicably, there would always be a lingering awkwardness between us, and I have no doubt that it would carry over into his relationship with Oakley.
And even if we didn’t break up, if it led to a wedding and kids and a happily ever after, their friendship would still change. Could I handle that? Could I be content with my choice, knowing that Oakley would still be affected?
‘I just don’t think being together is a good idea,’ I tell Chantal, but the words taste bitter on my tongue.
There’s a beat of disappointed silence before she says, ‘You can’t really believe that.’
I don’t, but this is fear talking. Right now, there’s only the burn of panic in my veins. It’s activating my fight-or-flight response, and it’s telling me to run.
But I don’t want to listen to the fear. I don’t want to let it deprive me of the happiness that being with Dev would undoubtedly bring me, even with the consequences, even if only for a short time.
It can keep singing its siren song in the back of my mind, but I refuse to let it lure me under. I won’t drown in the current of emotions and let them wash me, broken and bloodied, onto the shore. I won’t let it turn me into a shell of myself like I’ve been before. Or steal the fire I worked so hard to build and build and build until it blazed bright once again.
So that leaves me with two options. I can be selfish. I can put myself first and dive into the unknown. Or I can defer to the greater good and let this all come to an end, keeping the status quo intact.
And that means I have to make a choice.
‘I’m just afraid I’ll have to give something up to be with him,’ I finish weakly.
She’s quiet for a few seconds, considering my words. She understands where I’m coming from, even if I don’t explain my thought processes. She knows all my hang-ups and self-doubts, and she’s seen all the versions of me – from the wide-eyed innocent coming into college, to the broken-hearted girl after the Jeremy situation, all the way to the woman I am now, in part thanks to the way she and Grace helped build me back up.
‘I understand that,’ she finally says. ‘And it is scary. But, Willow . . .’ She takes a breath, her next words gentle but determined. ‘You could have everything with him. Please don’t let the fear win.’