Now
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
Evangeline
“I’m starving,” Jackson lets out, jumping out of the bed with energy.
“And water is wet. More news at noon,” I say, using my best anchor voice.
He turns around, intrigued by my words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re always hungry after we do it.”
“That’s because I always give a hundred and ten percent, princess,” he explains, returning to me for a quick kiss. “Come on, I’ll make us dinner.”
I stretch my sore, satisfied body, but don’t leave the bed quite yet.
Instead, I lie there, watching him walk around naked as he picks up our stuff from the floor.
He’s gotten quite a few tattoos since we moved from Colorado, and I like them a lot.
A couple of them are in honor of our relationship, like the Colette’s Diner sign across the side of his ribcage and the likeness of my locket on its chain on the other side, near his heart.
A pair of black briefs robs me of the sight of his muscular bottom, and I sigh with disappointment. “Come on. I’ll reheat the leftover Chinese.”
He exits our bedroom, and I force myself out of bed.
I grab his discarded T-shirt, slip it on, and after a stop by the bathroom, I join him in the other room.
He’s just finished filling up two plates with fried noodles and salt and pepper wings, and he shoves one in the microwave before turning it on.
“Have you ever heard of Wesley Pryce?” I ask, leaning on the table opposite him.
“The name’s familiar. Who’s that?”
“He owns Altron. They make commercial and private planes. And on the side, he has junior Formula teams.”
“Oh, right. I race them a lot.”
“And you beat them a lot, too.”
“I’m that good, yeah.”
His cocky smile makes me shake my head. “Well, he also has teams in Formula 3 and 2,” I continue.
“I know, yeah.”
“And for the past few years, he’s actively been working on building a Formula One team as well.”
“Wait, really? How do I not know that?”
“He announced it a couple of years ago and has been working on his application since. I hear the other teams don’t really like it when there’s a new player in town, so it involves a lot of politics and pocket greasing.”
“Okay. So, what about Wesley Pryce?”
“The FIA just approved his team’s entry application.”
Jax’s interest is officially piqued, and he leans back onto the kitchen counter, crossing his arms over his bare torso. “Keep talking, princess.”
“This means he can now start developing his Formula One cars. And even with his company’s aerospace expertise, it’ll still take another two, maybe three years to get all the testing and fine-tuning down so they’re ready for their first season.
And once they are, they’ll need skilled drivers behind those wheels. ”
Now he understands what I’m getting at, and something lights up behind his eyes. “You’re thinking I could be one of those drivers.”
“Yes. I looked into it, and it would make sense for him to hire one veteran, whom he’ll probably poach from another team, and then a rookie, who would cost him a lot less but still make the team fit the requirements.
It’s likely he’s already been actively scouting for his rookie in his own F3 and F2 teams.”
“Which I’m not a part of.”
“No, but you could be. I’m not sure why they haven’t reached out to you yet.
Maybe they’re only interested in the usual karting background.
But, as we’ve established, you’ve been beating his F4 drivers a lot.
So, he should definitely take you as a serious contender.
All we need is for him to hear about you.
Which he probably would have if you weren’t stuck in a backmarker team. ”
Jax processes everything, brow furrowed as he does. The microwave dings, so he takes the plate out, picks up a pair of chopsticks in the cup by the sink, and hands me everything. “So, how do we make him notice me? Do we reach out?” he asks, putting his own plate in the microwave.
I grimace as I sit down. “I’ve been trying that already.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I’ve been sending emails to his team principal for the past three months, but they keep ignoring me. I’m not an actual manager, so they don’t take me seriously.”
“Fuck them.”
“We could do that, or we could try to approach him in Vegas next week. I’m sure he’ll be there for the convention.
It would be the perfect opportunity. And the timing couldn’t be better.
You could get into his Formula 3 program now, do a year of that, then one season of Formula 2 to prepare for the big Formula One launch. ”
Jackson ponders heavily, eyes upfront but attention within.
“Racing for a brand-new team could be risky. We can’t know if the cars will be up to par.”
“He’s injecting billions into this project. I’m sure the cars will be fine. And it’s better than waiting for an existing team to have an opening, isn’t it? At least this way will be an actual pipeline to becoming an F1 driver.”
His plate is ready before he can decide what to answer, so he takes it out and gets chopsticks for himself. “Vegas was supposed to be a vacation,” he says as he joins me at the table. “I don’t want you to feel like we have to do this, Evie.”
“I don’t mind. We’ll take the binder with us and give ourselves a chance to meet him. If we manage, great. If not, at least we tried. And we’ll be there for a week. We already booked a Grand Canyon tour. It’s still a vacation, but with an added benefit.”
“You promise you don’t mind?” he insists.
“We can’t pass up such an opportunity, Jax. You’re not going anywhere because your team doesn’t value you the way they should. We’ve been here for two years, and you’ve won so many races this season … Yet, there’s less than two thousand dollars in our bank accounts.”
“Yeah, but at least you work less now, and focus on your degree more.”
“I know. But we need a win. And not just on the racetracks, because it clearly isn’t enough.”
It doesn’t take long for him to agree with a nod.
As we dig into our dinner, I try to think of a way for us to approach Wesley Pryce. A man like him must be surrounded by security, and getting close enough to plead our case might be harder than I anticipated.
I’m sure we’ll find a way, though. We have to.
“Fuck, princess … I need a cigarette after all this,” Jackson says, voice rough and sensual.
“Sorry, Hot Wheels, no smoking in my house.”
My fingers continue their lazy exploration of his muscular stomach, following the intricate lines of his tattoos. We’re lying on my bed, half covered by my duvet. He’s on his back with an arm around my shoulders as I’m plastered onto his side, a leg draped over his hips.
I’m still trying to recuperate from what just happened—three times in a row. I can’t believe I gave in. Everything was finally over with, and I folded like a lawn chair at the last minute.
But maybe that’s why I caved in at last. Everything is over. We’re almost divorced. And because of that, what happened doesn’t mean we’re getting back together. It’s like he said, we’re two adults, very good at giving each other pleasure, and there’s nothing wrong with it.
“You got a bit carried away with the tattoos,” I point out, noticing there’s barely any clear skin left.
He shrugs against me. “It was an outlet to express myself at first. Then it became a habit.”
I move away enough to look at the one he has of my locket. It’s still there, though harder to notice among the many new ones.
I look at him, searching for the young man I used to know.
The kid full of hopes and dreams I married.
He’s barely there anymore, but if I look hard enough, I can find him in the chiseled features of the man he’s become.
His hair remains the most drastic difference, and it hardens his features.
Especially with the shaved line that’s aligned with the scar on his eyebrow.
“I still can’t believe you cut your hair,” I say with a small pout. “It used to be your signature look.”
He passes his hand over the close meets my eyes to answer, “I couldn’t stand other people braiding it. It was our special time. So, the day I realized you weren’t coming back, I grabbed a clipper and cut it all off.”
There’s no resentment in his voice, but I can hear the hurt that lingers despite the many years that have passed. I don’t know how to atone for that, so I kiss him, slowly, gently, as if it could ever be enough to repair what I did.
“I’m starving,” he lets out when I pull away.
“Good to see some things never change,” I note with amusement.
His head twists to look down at me. “Yeah, it is.”
As if his expression wasn’t enough to let me know what he meant, his arm around me tightens to pull me closer.
Oh, crap. To him, this wasn’t just about being two mature adults enjoying each other’s bodies for two hours straight, was it? It was a lot more than that. It was us rekindling our old bond.
Slightly uncomfortable, I push myself away from him. “I think I have some leftovers in the fridge. Let’s get you refueled.”
“Already preparing me for round four, I see.”
I snort, extracting myself from his embrace. I pick up my robe to throw it in the hamper and walk to the en suite bathroom. After a pee and a cleanup, I return to the room in a satin robe this time.
He’s still lying there in all his naked glory, entirely unabashed. And I can’t help myself from ogling this perfect sight.
Jax was always a little too heavy to be an open-wheel driver.
He’s several inches above the optimal height, and his physique leans toward a more muscular shape.
I remember how he used to be extremely careful with his food intake so he wouldn’t be at too much of a disadvantage.
He’s still bulkier than most, but he found a way to make that work. And boy, am I thankful for it.
I grab his underwear off the floor and throw it at him. “See you downstairs, Hot Wheels.”