CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Asher
Blue strobe lights pulsed with the DJ’s beats as Ale and I sat in an elevated VIP booth overlooking the sunken dance floor at Tonight—the new club Rys had invited me to. He and his friend Elio were running late, which gave me a chance to talk to Ale.
“I fucked up,” I said.
Ale arched a brow. “Kaia?”
“Yeah. She didn’t call.”
Six days. I’d debated waiting outside her campus or apartment and begging her again to listen, but that would make me look controlling, overbearing. She’d had enough of that with her father, and Russell was the last person I wanted her to think of when she looked at me.
Ale sipped his gin and tonic. “Give her time. You left her, not the other way around. You wait until she’s ready.”
“What if she’s never ready?”
He shrugged. “Then you’ll have to accept it. But I don’t think that’s the case. It’s a lot to process.”
He was right, but it didn’t ease the knot in my chest. I hated waiting, even though I had no choice. If I’d come back before Russell paid for her studies, she would’ve been forced to give up her dream. And before Vortex, my finances had been a liability—thanks to Ethan and my own mistakes.
“It’ll work out,” Ale said. “You might not see it now, but everything happens for a reason.”
“With all the relationship advice you dish out, how the fuck are you still single?”
His mouth curved in a smirk. “Single but solicited.”
No doubt about that. Even now, a few girls in the crowd couldn’t take their eyes off him.
“Isn’t that your friend?” Ale asked, nodding toward two men approaching—oblivious to the attention or too used to it.
Rys led the way, Elio a step behind. Both dressed in black, Elio stood just as tall as Rys’s six-foot-two frame, looking every bit the bodyguard Rys had claimed he was.
“Sorry for the delay.” Rys shook Ale’s hand. “A meeting ran long. I’m Emrys, this is Elio.”
“Alejandro,” Ale said.
“We’ve heard a lot about you,” Rys said, then glanced at me with a smile. “That last race in Mugello was spectacular. Wish I could’ve watched it in person.”
He’d been to quite a few of my races, and my crew and I stayed at Delano Hotels when traveling. We made a point to catch up whenever we landed in the same city.
“Come to the next one in March,” I said.
Elio chuckled. “He’ll pencil it in right now. His calendar fills fast—we plan everything months out. That said, if you ever need a security detail at a race, I’m available.”
I snorted. “I’m not that well known, but thanks.”
Not entirely true—more people recognized me these days.
But I didn’t want attention off the track.
I’d rather be known for my sport than the shoes I wore or the parties I went to.
Other than the posts my sponsors demanded, I stayed off social media too.
Ale hated that—he’d chewed my ear off more than once about “branding.”
A man in a navy suit clapped Rys on the shoulder by our booth.
“I’m Howard, owner of the club,” he said, glancing at us.
“Hope you’re having an amazing time. Drinks are on me.
” After introductions, he grinned at me.
“Asher Williams.” He shook my hand hard.
“That race in Mugello was fantastic. Roy won’t have it easy next season. ”
I fucking wished. Roy was the reigning world champion for a reason. I had yet to match his skill, though I’d finished every race second.
I smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”
Howard turned to Ale, launching into talk about the club’s layout. I let my gaze drift over the dance floor, sipping my sparkling water.
A group of girls moved in the center, swallowed by the crowd.
One spun, and my stomach clenched. Shiny hair spilling down her back.
The slim waist I’d gripped too few times.
A crop top bared her stomach above wide-leg jeans, and I almost smiled.
It was like seeing her rush toward me that night at the countryside hotel.
So much had changed. Somehow, nothing had.
Kaia tipped her head back, laughing at something her friend whispered. The song shifted to reggaeton, and her hips rolled in slow, perfect circles.
She got lost in the music. I got lost in her.
The people around her noticed too. They stepped back, giving her space. She beckoned her girlfriends, and the four of them moved together, bodies lit with rhythm and heat.
“Those four can move,” Elio said, his gray eyes fixed on Kaia.
I clenched my jaw. Fuck no.
Rys arched a brow. He didn’t know her yet, but we were close enough that he’d seen her picture—set as my phone wallpaper.
“Asher’s girl,” he said, calm but edged with don’t even think about it.
“That so?” Elio smirked. “Then maybe you’re not the one who needs my services.”
He pointed his whiskey at the men circling too close.
Ale shot me a look sharp enough to slice through the bass. A reminder: she had to come to me. She had to want to listen. But my throat dried, and my fists clenched under the table.
She wasn’t dancing for them. She was dancing for herself. Dancing had always been her escape. But the urge to do something burned in my blood, buzzing through every nerve.
“Rys,” I said, voice low. “Think that Howard guy could help me out?”
“Uh-huh,” Elio muttered.
Ale chuckled.
“Sure,” Rys said. “He’s over there.”
Howard stood by the DJ booth, sipping whiskey as two girls in sequins leaned into him.
“Howard,” Rys called. “Asher was wondering if you could help with something.”
Howard slung an arm around my shoulders like we’d known each other longer than ten minutes. “Anything for our favorite racer.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I was hoping to request a song.”
He boomed with laughter, raking a hand through gelled hair. “Just one? Request as many as you want.”
He tapped the DJ’s sleeve. The guy tilted his head toward me, and I leaned in as the volume dropped just enough to tell him what I wanted.
He gave me a thumbs-up, and the slow beats of the song Kaia and I had danced to after Forward Racing’s gala filled the club.
Nerves socked me in the gut. I pushed through the crowd toward her. She hadn’t moved from the spot on the floor, but now her wide eyes were locked on me. My insides twisted as her friends giggled, tossing curious looks my way.
“Dance with me,” I said. “Please.”
She hesitated, and my chest squeezed. Then—one tiny step forward. Our fingers brushed, and I caught her hand, sliding my arm around her waist and pulling her close. Goosebumps shot across my skin where my forearm pressed her back.
Tentatively, like the first time, Kaia slid her palms up my arms, her right hand resting on my shoulder.
“Does it still hurt?” she asked as we began to sway.
I cupped her jaw, my thumb smoothing her cheekbone. “No.”
“Good,” she whispered, her breath ghosting across my collarbone.
“I thought you’d ask what I’m doing here.”
Her lips twitched, almost a smile. “Stalking me?”
The beat quickened. I tightened my hold and slid my fingers into her hair.
She shivered when I massaged her scalp.
“No, peque. I had no idea you’d be here.”
She tilted her chin up. “Should I believe you? They never play this song anywhere.”
I brushed her cheek with my nose. “Now they do.”
Three minutes and forty-five seconds weren’t enough. Anxiety coiled in my chest. When it ended, what then?
“I’m sorry,” I whispered in her ear.
“For what, Ash?” Her fingers curled around my neck, and goosebumps returned, paired with the ache in my gut.
“The other day. Two years ago. Every moment I missed. Every time you cried. I’m so fucking sorry for all of it.”
The song dipped to a hush, a heartbeat before the final chorus.
Kaia’s panicked eyes found mine. I hadn’t heard her say the words, but right then I knew—she still cared.
Maybe that’s why I lowered my mouth to hers. Or maybe it was pure selfishness. Our last kiss had tortured me for years. Hopeless. Final. This one wouldn’t be. If she let me, I’d kiss her for the rest of my life—each one happy, light, healing.
“Let me,” I said, lips grazing hers. “Please, let me kiss you.”
She closed her eyes and leaned in.
Another track kicked in. Neither of us cared.
Our mouths meshed like they’d never forgotten.
Kaia’s arms wound around my neck. My hands stayed buried in her hair as my tongue slid against hers—slow, completely off-tempo with the frantic pounding of my heart.
I traced her spine, down to the sliver of skin exposed at her waist.
Her fingers tangled in my hair as I devoured her.
Someone bumped me from behind. Fucking people. I tore my mouth from hers and backed us into the shadows, keeping her tight against me until we reached the narrow hallway near the bathrooms.
She pushed me against the wall.
“I haven’t forgiven you yet, Ash,” she said, voice unsteady.
“It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.”
She pressed her chest to mine, cupped my cheek, and kissed me again. My spine tingled with so much want I could hardly breathe.
I dragged my mouth down her neck, tasting the quick beat under her skin, my thumbs stroking her waist.
Her breath hitched when I bit softly. She arched against me, gripping my shirt as I kissed lower, to the place where her neck met her shoulder.
“We can’t go to my place. Alba’s home, and I didn’t warn her,” she whispered.
I nipped at her earlobe. “Want to go to mine?”
Whatever this was—her moment of weakness, poor judgment, or the start of another regret—I wanted it. I wanted everything she was willing to give, but I’d take it in the privacy of my apartment, not in a club’s hallway.
Kaia’s breath shuddered out. “Yes.”
I kissed her jaw, wrapped her in my arms, and let hope flood my chest. “Let’s go.”