CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN CLARKE AND CECI
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Clarke and Ceci
Clarke
A catsuit?” Laughing, Ceci rocked back and forth in bed.
“Yes,” Clarke sighed. “A catsuit. So now we’re even. You like to call me Sir Galahad when we’re having sex, and I have sexy dreams of you wearing a catsuit.”
She grinned. “And carrying a whip. So, maybe if I wore a catsuit and brought a whip, Sir Galahad wouldn’t be so relentless.”
He grabbed her, rolling her over so he was on top of her. “I thought you liked Sir Galahad when he’s relentless.”
“Does this kitty cat have a name?”
“Stop already.”
“You’re blushing.”
He rolled onto his back and pulled her beside him, running his fingers through her curls.
“And when did you plan on telling me you were the Man in the Iron Mask I met at that masquerade ball?”
His fingers stopped. You knew this was coming.
“Oh.”
She chuckled. “Yeah. Oh.”
“I thought you might figure it out once you met my brothers.”
“I figured it out before then.”
He propped himself up on one elbow. “You did?”
“Yes, I was just waiting for you to tell me. Why didn’t you?”
He groaned, falling back onto the bed and gazing up at the ceiling. “It was embarrassing.”
“Why did you do it? I mean, why didn’t you let me know it was you?”
“Would you have danced with me if I had?”
He watched her think about it.
“Maybe. If you asked me. But I would have been surprised if you asked me. I would have been surprised at your coming up to me at all. I mean, after those DMs.”
“I know.” He swallowed and picked up her hand, running his fingers over the birthmark and tattoo. “Is the birthmark from your brother?”
“Maybe. But I don’t really know. I think of it as being from him. It looks like a handprint. You’re the only person who’s seen that.”
He turned onto his side so that he could see her, slipping his fingers in between hers and holding her hand against his chest.
You’re going to have to talk about this at some point. She knows it too. So just get it over with already.
“Ceci, what do you think about this—what we’re doing and the racing? We never talk about it.”
She edged closer so that their interwoven hands were up against her chest too. Her body was soft and warm, but he felt a thread of tension.
“Anker and I are so close in points. Either one of us could win the trophy. When I win a race, even if he makes the podium, it’s like you and he lose.”
“And when he and I win, you lose.”
“Yes.”
“You aren’t thinking about those stupid rumors?”
Rumors had begun to circulate, suggesting that Ceci was secretly undermining the Blue Jet team and Anker to help Clarke. He supposed even those who’d been skeptical about their relationship had now begun to think that it might be real.
“Don’t they bother you?” he asked.
She sighed. “Yes. But what can we do about them? Stop seeing each other?”
He let go of her hand and clutched her waist, pulling her into him. “No! Is that what you want?”
She chuckled. “No.”
“It just pisses me off. I bet I know who started them. That fucking douchebag, Tilney.”
Ceci
Ceci propped herself up on one elbow. “What is it with you two? Do you guys have some kind of history?”
He drew a deep breath before he spoke. “Do you remember when we went karting and I told you about Naomi and her brother?”
She nodded.
“That douchebag that was such a dick to her and who I raced down the mountain in Aspen was Tilney.”
“Tilney?”
He nodded. “But I can’t lay all the blame at his feet. None of it would have happened if I hadn’t done what I did.”
“You are not responsible for Naomi’s death.”
He gaped. “Death? Naomi’s not dead.”
Ceci blinked. “She’s not?”
“No. She’s in med school at John Hopkins.”
“But you said you were too late.”
“I was.”
“You said she was gone.”
“Well, yeah. I mean, she left school. But it was more than that. She was gone. Wasn’t herself. It took her a while and a lot of therapy to get herself back.”
Ceci felt a flutter in her chest as though something had taken flight. Her face broke out in the kind of smile that takes over your entire body.
Naomi is alive and attending John Hopkins. But Niles.
“What about Niles? Is he still paralyzed?”
“No. Not anymore. But it took him a couple years of hard work to get there.” Clarke narrowed his eyes. “Are you laughing?”
She clamped her hand over her mouth and shook her head.
“Take away your hand,” he said.
Reluctantly she removed it. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny. I’m just relieved. Not just for them, but for you.”
“The fact that they’re doing well now doesn’t undo what I did.
It’s like a heart attack. Maybe the person survives and the heart can still function.
But the damaged area that’s replaced with scar tissue isn’t as strong or flexible as it used to be.
The scar tissue makes the heart weaker and more vulnerable. ”
Sofia and Beatrice were right.
She kissed him lightly on the lips before laying her head on his chest.
“Sir Galahad,” she murmured.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she purred, hugging him tightly.
He sighed. “Even if Naomi hadn’t gotten involved with Tilney, I still couldn’t stand the guy. I don’t like the way he treats women.”
“I think he wants to drive for Blue Jet. He knows one of the owners. But it would only happen if they take on a third driver. They’ve been talking about it, but I have my eye on a couple of female drivers.”
“Speaking of female drivers, have you thought any more about driving yourself?”
She shrugged.
“You’re not going to let that setback with your father stop you.”
She shook her head. “No. But I’d have to give up my position as team principal to train full time.
And there’s no guarantee even if I commit to the training.
No guarantee anyone would be interested.
I don’t even know if there’d be any open spots in F3.
That would be the highest level I could hope to start at, and even that might be a long shot. ”
“As far as getting a feel for being behind the wheel again and seeing where you’re at, we could get hold of some cars for you to practice. And of course there’s the simulator. And as far as fitness, we could train together.”
Her heart leapt, making her chest almost unbearably weightless. Her smile stretched so wide, she could almost swear the corners of her lips touched her eyes, which she knew must be glistening because she could feel that telltale prickle.
“We?”
“Yes. As in you and I.”
That prickle was going to develop into tears. It wouldn’t take long for them to fall.
Make light of it to stop them.
“You’d really like to see me step down as team principal for Blue Jet, wouldn’t you, Sir Stick? Can’t handle being beaten by a girl?”
He pushed her onto her back and rolled over on top of her, pinning her arms. “Put on a catsuit and we’ll discuss it.”
“If I put on a catsuit,” she purred, “I’m bringing my whip. Now get on your back, Sir Galahad, and lower those trunks.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ceci got out of bed when her phone rang. Clarke was asleep so she slipped into the bathroom.
It was Hans Zimmer, one of the Blue Jet Lightning owners.
“Hi, Hans.”
“Ceci, we have a problem. Mendelsohn was in an accident—a car accident, if you can believe it. He’s going to be okay, but he can forget about racing for the rest of this season.”
“Shit.”
“Me and the other owners have been discussing it, and we want to bring on Tilney to be our second driver.”