Cross the Line

CHAPTER 26

Willow

‘I’m so sore,’ I quietly whine to Dev as we step out into the sunshine. ‘How am I supposed to sit on a plane for . . .’ My stomach lurches at the thought of travelling from Brussels to San Diego today. ‘Oh no. How long is this flight?’

‘Long,’ he answers, grabbing the handle of my suitcase from me, our fingers brushing in the process.

I’ll take all the contact I can get. Now that we’ve left the privacy of my hotel room, we have to act like there isn’t anything – like a red string of fate – between us. We’re separate entities instead of a united pair.

My chest aches a little at the idea. It doesn’t matter how new this connection is; I don’t want to even imagine not being together, no matter how fake the detachment.

We agreed to keep this a secret, but in the light of day, sneaking around seems way more difficult than it did when we created this plan. All I want to do is lace our fingers together and declare to the world that we’re an item.

At least . . . I think we are. We didn’t exactly put a label on things.

Doesn’t look like I’ll be asking Dev about what he considers us, though, because Mark and Chava join us on our way to the awaiting SUV. They may have caught us making out and even bet on it happening, but we shouldn’t involve them any more than they already are. They’re Oakley’s friends, after all, and who knows what one of them – okay, it would absolutely be Chava – might let slip.

They’re not the only ones I have to be careful with. I have to remember that Dev is a celebrity, no matter how hard it is to wrap my mind around that fact. He’s under constant scrutiny because of it, and by association, I have been too. My photo has already popped up in various publications. They’re harmless, usually just shots of Dev and me walking side by side in the paddock, but my name is out there now. I’ve been identified as his social media manager, and for the time being, that should be my only title.

When we reach the SUV, I make accidental eye contact with Mark as he loads our bags into the trunk – and, yep, he absolutely knows what Dev and I were up to last night. My face goes hot when he winks at me, but at least he approves.

Chava, thankfully, seems none the wiser as I slip past him and scramble into the third row of the SUV. Dev soon joins me, his hand finding my thigh while the other guys linger outside on the sidewalk. It’s a private enough moment, so I let it endure, even shifting so his fingers slip underneath the edge of my shorts.

‘Before we’re stuck with our families,’ he murmurs close to my ear, ‘let me take you on a date.’

I glance at him from the corner of my eye, resisting the urge to turn and press my lips to his. ‘Is this going to be that best date ever you promised me?’

‘Shit, I’ve got a lot to live up to, haven’t I?’

‘You brought that upon yourself, bud.’

‘I suppose I did.’ He blows out a heavy breath, but there’s humour behind it, and the way his hand slides a little higher tells me he’s not worried. ‘As soon as we land, I’m stealing you away. We’ll tell everyone our flight got delayed.’

I frown. ‘Chava and Mark are literally on the same flight. No one’s going to believe that if they show up and we don’t.’

‘They’ll cover for us. I promise.’

And that’s when I notice Chava. His grinning face is pressed to the window, his hands cupped over his eyes so he can see in through the tinted glass, watching us like an exhibit at the zoo.

Clearly, there are no secrets here.

I sigh. ‘Fine. I guess that’s the least they can do.’

——

Sixteen hours later, I’m stiff, achy, and ready for bed, even though it’s three in the afternoon here in California. I’m not fit for any kind of date right now. I’m not even fit to be seen by other humans.

Still, Dev herds me into another waiting SUV and nods goodbye to Mark and Chava before climbing in beside me. I try to wave to them in thanks, but I’m so exhausted my hand flops like a limp fish.

‘I don’t think I’m up for anything,’ I say wearily.

‘You’ll be up for this, I promise.’

I’m not sure about that. But he hasn’t let me down so far, and this is supposed to be the best date ever, so . . . I guess I’ll play along.

But the longer we drive, the more confused I get. We’re sticking close to the coast, heading into one of the fancier San Diego neighbourhoods. Maybe we’re going to a private access area of the beach. I wouldn’t mind napping in the sun, but we could do that any day. Not exactly ‘best date’ material.

So when we turn into the driveway of what’s easily a ten-million-dollar home, I frown and shoot Dev a curious look. ‘Don’t tell me you bought an entire house for this date.’

He snorts and undoes his seat belt, then mine. ‘Just a rental. Don’t worry. Not that I wouldn’t buy a house just to impress you. I’d pick a more exciting city though.’

That pulls a laugh out of me. ‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

He gets out of the SUV first, then helps me down, his warm hands wrapping around mine briefly before his arm finds my waist. We make our way up the flagstone path to the wide front porch. It’s decorated with wicker chairs and a swing, but it’s the paper grocery bags that catch my eye.

‘Did you order something?’

Dev’s grin is crooked, his eyes sparkling. ‘You’re really intent on ruining my surprise, aren’t you?’ He drops his arm from around me in favour of scooping up the bags, then he punches in a code on the door to unlock it. ‘Ladies first,’ he says, stepping off to the side.

Turning the knob, I obey, but only because I trust him enough not to lead me into a trap or into the awaiting machete of a murderer. Perks of knowing him my whole life, I guess.

Thankfully, there’s no horrific surprise or serial killer on the other side of the threshold. Just a stunning open-concept floor plan with warm cherry oak floors, cosy neutral-coloured furniture, and a chef’s dream kitchen. But the view is the real selling point of this place.

A wall of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooks the ocean and the narrow, twisting stairway that leads down the rocky incline to the beach. There’s a patio tucked into the side of the cliff, complete with more wicker furniture and a firepit. Best of all, it’s hidden from anyone who might wander by on the narrow stretch of beach below.

I kick off my sneakers and pad toward the windows, taking in the view as Dev sets the bags on the kitchen island. ‘This is gorgeous,’ I exhale, staring out at the dark-blue waves that lap onto the shore. ‘And peaceful.’

His laugh carries across the space. ‘Exactly. We won’t be getting much peace once we’re home. I wanted one last escape before the wedding chaos begins.’

I can only imagine the riot Alisha’s wedding is going to be. I saw a few of her vision boards the last time I was home, and every aspect looked exciting, lavish, and expensive as hell. But as incredible as the three-day event is almost guaranteed to be, it’s going to be an exhausting time for everyone involved.

‘Come on. Let’s check out the upstairs,’ Dev says, sidling up beside me and extending a hand. He’s cradling a small white bag in his other arm, but I can’t make out what’s in it.

He leads me up the wide staircase, past all the lovely black-and-white nature photography lining the walls, to the second floor. The main bedroom practically hangs over the ocean, boasting even more stunning views. I’m immediately tempted to crash on the bed and let the dull roar of the waves lull me to sleep.

‘Almost there.’

He steps around the king-size mattress and tugs me toward another doorway, this one leading to an en suite bathroom done up in sleek marble. The focal point is the oversized clawfoot tub that sits by another expansive window.

‘Ta-da,’ Dev announces. He lets go of my hand and turns on the bathtub’s chrome tap. ‘Figured you could use a soak before we really start our date. Get undressed.’

‘Hey, buy a girl dinner first.’

He laughs. ‘That’s next. But first, you need a bath.’ He sets the bag on the counter. It’s lavender-scented Epsom salts. ‘Hopefully this will help your muscles. After last night and that flight, I know you’re hurting.’

My throat tightens, and I swear my heart skips a beat. No one has ever put so much thought into caring for me. No one has ever understood how I feel as innately as he does. ‘Thank you.’

He shoots me a wink as he pours a generous amount of the Epsom salts into the steaming water. Immediately, the soothing scent of lavender fills the room.

‘Come downstairs when you’re done,’ he instructs, dropping a kiss on my forehead before moving to the door. ‘I have more surprises.’

He steps out and then I’m alone, smiling goofily to myself as I blink away the tears that threaten to spill over my lashes. If my heart bursts from an overabundance of love, I know exactly who to blame.

I make quick work of getting out of my clothes and piling my curls on top of my head, then lower myself into the water, groaning as the heat slowly loosens all my knotted muscles. I stay submerged until my fingertips go wrinkly, and when I finally convince myself to get out, I find the world’s fluffiest towel waiting for me.

Once I’m dry, I move into the bedroom. My suitcase stands next to the bed, but on the mattress is a container of my favourite vanilla-scented body butter and a brand-new sundress. It’s white with the most delicate violets dotted across it, and it’s from a brand that carries a significant price tag. Even if this doesn’t turn out to be the best date of my life, it’s definitely the most expensive one I’ve ever been on.

When I’m moisturized and dressed, I head back downstairs and find Dev coming out of the kitchen toting a tray of sandwiches, lemonade, and what I’m sure are Stella Margaux macarons. He nods to the open sliding door that leads to the patio.

‘Come on, let’s have a picnic.’

I follow him out and settle in on the cushioned love seat. I turn my face up to the sun and let the sea breeze ruffle the frizzy ringlets that have escaped my bun. Everything about this moment is perfect.

Silently, he sets the tray down and hands me a glass of lemonade before sitting beside me. ‘How did you plan all of this so quickly?’ I ask as the drink cools my palm.

With an arm draped over me, he presses a single finger to my shoulder. ‘One, I am very wealthy. I can pay to make just about anything happen. And two’ – he presses another finger into my skin – ‘I know how to use the internet to order things.’

I lift my glass to my lips to hide my smile. ‘Dick,’ I mumble into the drink.

‘Oh, absolutely. But do you like it?’

Scanning the stunning surroundings, I sip my lemonade and pretend to consider my answer. ‘Hmm . . . I guess you did okay.’

He grazes his lips across my jaw and nips at the corner in revenge. When I turn my cheek to press against his, I can feel his grin.

‘Smart-ass,’ he murmurs. ‘I like you in that dress, by the way. I think I chose well.’

‘I won’t ask how you knew my exact size.’

‘Then I won’t admit that I pawed through your clothes while you were in the shower this morning.’

I laugh and pull back a little, cupping his cheek and losing myself in the dark depths of his eyes. ‘I know I said it already, but thank you. This is . . . this is amazing. It’s everything I could have wanted out of a date.’ Because all I really need is him.

His gaze flits over my face, his brows drawing together a fraction. ‘You don’t ever have to thank me for stuff like this, Willow. This is how you deserve to be treated.’

Tears once again prick at the back of my eyes. I ward them off by pressing my lips to his. The kiss is chaste and closed, but it’s achingly sweet.

Dev pulls back first, inspecting me for a second. With a soft chuckle, he dips his head and ruffles his hair like an embarrassed teenage boy who’s just had his first kiss. For a man I’d enthusiastically describe as incredibly sexy, the move is adorable.

‘All right, enough of that,’ he says, grabbing a plate of mini sandwiches off the tray. ‘Eat.’

I take one gratefully and sit back, biting into the soft bread and cheese. ‘Are you happy to have a break from racing?’ I ask when I finish chewing.

He nods as he grabs a sandwich as well. ‘As much as I love it, I love the downtime too. It’s nice to not have to rush from one place to another for a few weeks.’

I can appreciate that sentiment after following him all over Europe. But it hits me then that I won’t be doing that any more. I’m . . . done. I won’t have to jump on red-eye flights or cram into the vans that take us to circuits. Malibu is our last stop on this whirlwind adventure, and at the end of Alisha’s wedding weekend, my contract with Dev is up.

Grief punches me in the chest, nearly knocking the air from my lungs. I don’t want this part to end, even though it’ll allow us to bring our relationship out into the light. Helping to pull his reputation back from the brink has been an honour. I’ve loved getting to know the people at Argonaut – minus Buck and Nathaniel, who never spoke a single word to me – and I loved thanking them via Dev’s accounts for all the work they do. I’ve loved . . . all of it.

I never thought I’d enjoy a job like this, one full of travel and fast-paced events. For so long, I’ve envisioned myself working in a huge marketing department for a sports team, sitting at a desk, clicking a mouse all day. Something quiet and safe. To work closely with just one person originally felt like a step back. But now? I couldn’t imagine spending my days in a cubicle and likely never meeting the athletes I was promoting. The days when I strived for just that feel like a lifetime ago. Like someone else’s life.

‘What will you do once I’m not working for you any more?’ I ask Dev, doing my best to keep my voice level, even though my heart is pounding up into my throat.

‘I’m going to hire a PR firm like Howard originally asked me to.’ His answer comes so easily that it’s clear this isn’t the first time he’s considered his options. ‘You got everything perfectly back on track for me, so all they have to do is maintain it. And once I’m at Mascort—’

‘Don’t jinx it!’

‘Once I’m hopefully at Mascort,’ he amends, ‘they’ll probably have a list of people for me to choose from that they’ve already vetted and approved. They’re the real deal. Unlike Argonaut, who pretty much told me to figure it out all by myself.’ He rolls his eyes.

I have to tamp down on the desire to blurt that I want to stay with him. That I want to keep doing what I’m doing, even if he really doesn’t need my help any more.

But I swallow back the words. It’s not a viable option if we want to have a public relationship, and especially if I ever want to have any kind of career unshadowed by rumours of sleeping my way into a job.

‘I’m crossing my fingers you get the Mascort contract,’ I say instead.

Dev blows out a breath, blessedly unaware of the turmoil raging inside me. ‘Me too. I know it won’t happen overnight, but I can’t take another season at Argonaut.’

And Argonaut probably wouldn’t take another season with him either.

‘Can I ask you something?’ I unnecessarily preface. He’ll answer any question I come up with, but I’ve been curious about this for ages. ‘Is there a reason you hate Nathaniel so much? Other than the team always prioritizing him. And him being a dick.’

Dev snickers and finishes off his sandwich. He wipes his hands on a napkin, then opens his mouth like he’s about to answer, but then he closes it again and surveys the patio for a few long seconds.

‘When Buck bought the team,’ he finally begins, ‘he threw this party so he could introduce himself to us. Everyone at Argonaut was excited to welcome him and Nathaniel. Probably because we were desperate for the cash influx. But the team needed new blood anyway.

‘I won’t lie, I was thrilled about the whole thing. More money meant that we might finally be competitive. Plus, Nathaniel had made a name for himself in F2 the year before, and since I wasn’t the one getting pushed out by his arrival, I was happy to have him there.’ Dev gives a short, dry laugh. ‘I should have known better.’

I take his hand in mine, a silent show of support. He curls his fingers around it, but he looks out at the waves when he speaks again.

‘I introduced myself to him and Buck, and he just . . . ignored me,’ Dev says, shaking his head a little like he still can’t believe it. ‘Straight up acted like I wasn’t even there. Buck was the only one who spoke to me, but even that was brief. I caught Nathaniel alone later that night and asked if there was a problem. I don’t remember exactly what he said, but he made it very clear that he had no interest in getting to know me as a friend, acquaintance, or even a teammate. Talked to me like I wasn’t worthy of his attention.’

Dev blows out a heavy breath, finally glancing back over at me. ‘It’s why we rarely do any videos or events together. And when we do, we always have a buffer. I swear we haven’t been alone in a room together since that night. Which is fine. I’m not interested in spending time with people who treat me like that.’

I squeeze his hand, my stomach in knots. No one deserves to be treated that way, especially not Dev. He might as well be the human embodiment of sunshine. ‘I’m sorry that happened,’ I say quietly, intent on lightening the mood again. ‘Okay, so he’s obviously the driver you respect the least out there. Who do you respect the most?’

He sits a little straighter, and his expression brightens. ‘Zaid. Easily. He paved the way for guys like me. Showed me that little brown boys had a place in motorsports. Without him, I don’t know if I would have stuck out the hard times.’

‘And now you’re about to be his teammate. Amazing.’

He side-eyes me. ‘Weren’t you just telling me not to jinx it?’

‘You’ll be fine.’ I wave it off, grinning. ‘I’m so proud of you. You’re going to have to get me paddock passes. I have to see you in that car. Hopefully I’ll find a job that gives me vacation time right off the bat.’

His smile wavers for a split second before it comes back at full force, but his eyes have dimmed a fraction. I don’t love the reminder that I’ll no longer be following him around the world either, but he’s the one who already has a plan in place for when it happens. Even still, maybe it hasn’t really hit him that I’ll be returning to my life in New York in just a couple of weeks.

Maybe it’s time to broach that subject, as much as I dread the sadness that comes along with it.

‘I guess we should talk about how to make long-distance work,’ I say, quickly following it up with, ‘If that’s what we decide to do.’

‘It’s not what I want,’ Dev answers, the words measured. ‘But if it’s the only way we can be together, then that’s how it’ll have to be.’ He exhales a sardonic laugh, peering at me in profile. ‘Can I make a confession? It’s been a really long time since I had a girlfriend.’

My heart stutter-steps in my chest. Is he . . . Did he just put a label on this? I mean, I like it, but it feels . . . big. Bigger than professing our love for each other somehow.

I choose to ignore it. I’m not ready to discuss what we are right now. ‘Oh yeah?’ I ask, my voice artificially light. ‘When was the last time?’

‘I—’ He cuts short, scrunching his brow in concentration. ‘Shit, freshman year of high school? Priya. Her mom hated me.’

I gape at him. ‘Seriously?’

‘Oh yeah, that woman thought I was the—’

‘No, I mean you really haven’t had a girlfriend since the start of high school?’

Over the past several years, I’ve tried my best not to keep up with him or read tabloid fodder about his love life. I didn’t want to come across something I couldn’t unsee. But he hasn’t had a girlfriend since he was what? Fifteen? He’s always come off as such a romantic – case in point, this date – so I assumed he had a string of monogamous relationships over the years. Guess I was wrong.

Dev shrugs. ‘This lifestyle makes it hard to have a partner. I really have to be invested in a relationship to want to make it work. That’s not to say there haven’t been women. I’ll be honest, Willow. There have been . . . a lot.’ He seems only a little sheepish about admitting that.

‘Huh,’ I muse. That admission doesn’t particularly bother me. He’s a hot, rich, successful man who could charm the pants off just about anyone. And it sounds like he did. But I have no right to judge him for it. Besides, I’m the one he’s rented out a whole house for, just so we could have a date. The women in his past aren’t my concern. ‘No wonder that STD thing hit you so hard. It could have been true.’

He barks out a surprised laugh. ‘Okay, ouch. I was always careful, thank you very much.’ He elbows me gently in the ribs and grins. ‘But yeah, it did hit a little close to home. The paddock might as well be a Petri dish, so it’s important to be safe.’

A flash of a memory hits me – the two of us skin-to-skin last night – and suddenly I’m flushed from head to toe. Sure, a conversation about STDs does little to get me hot and bothered, but his scandal meant that he wasn’t with anyone else over those months. Considering we laid the rumours to rest what feels like ages ago, he could have easily found someone to take to bed in the meantime – yet he still held out. For me.

He chose me.

‘You okay?’ I hear him ask. The note of concern in the question snaps me out of my daze. ‘Is it too warm out here? We can head back inside if you want to.’

I shake my head, both to turn down the offer and to clear away the thoughts that have me wanting to throw caution to the wind and declare our relationship to the whole world right this instant.

‘I’m fine right here.’ I inch as close to him as I can manage. ‘I was thinking about how I never want to leave, actually. Do we have to go back home?’

He chuckles and tucks me under his arm, resting his chin on the top of my head. ‘Unless you want my mom to hunt us down, we should probably drag ourselves over there in the next few hours. But until then . . .’ His other hand finds my knee and traces upward under my sundress. ‘I have a couple of ideas for how we can spend our time here.’