Chapter One #3
Points off for being patronising. ‘No, the real attraction is the smell of burning rubber and the sound of screeching tires fighting for grip.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Fully,’ she said firmly. ‘It’s so good.
It’s hot and loud and fast. Every sense struggles to keep up with the input—sight, sound, smell.
If you blink you miss them fly past. It’s pure adrenaline.
The technology is mind-blowing. Then there are the fans—the roar of that crowd is insane.
Go to a race weekend, then you’ll understand. ’
‘So you’ve always been into it?’
‘I was basically born in a garage. Cars are the family business.’
‘In P1 Global?’
‘No.’ She was hardly legacy elite like the billionaire family team she worked for. ‘Just a small local garage.’ She fudged the truth.
‘They must be incredibly proud of you.’
She sighed. A normal, nice, loving family might be proud, but her family was neither normal nor loving. ‘Unfortunately, you can’t always please family.’
‘No matter what you do?’ he added lightly. ‘Yeah, I hear you.’
Because he’d experienced the same?
‘Sucks, doesn’t it?’ she murmured. ‘Can’t change them, though.’
‘No. Definitely can’t.’
She didn’t want to think about her family let alone talk about them. Like Hearnshawe Racing they worked on cars that weren’t road legal—modifying them to be faster than their intended capability. Street racing had been the start; getaway cars the later purpose.
‘Does the team use you as their poster girl?’ the courier asked. ‘I’m assuming you’re one of the few female mechanics they have.’
‘I’m not the first and I’m definitely not going to be the last. Definitely not on any posters. The number-one mechanic wouldn’t stand for it.’
The cliché of being a hot chick on the shop floor wasn’t her.
For one thing, she wasn’t hot and in Lily’s view just surviving—let alone excelling—as one of the few women in any male-dominated world required one of two options.
She could either embrace and accentuate her feminine differences, or she could hide them.
She opted for the latter. Hiding who she was was her go-to.
She’d been overlooked and underestimated her entire life, but now she used it as an invisibility cloak she pulled on at will.
She always wore her team cap tugged low and the collar of her team polo shirt turned up to expose as little of her pale skin as possible.
She couldn’t hide her stature—high heels weren’t exactly a thing on a garage floor—so she was undeniably petite, but she was strong.
She needed not to be as good as the guys, but better—just to hold her own.
Which meant that being alone and away from the scene—well, almost alone—for a few hours now was an immense relief.
With no pressure to perform she could completely relax.
Given this guy didn’t even like P1 Global, she was safe.
‘So you’re a courier,’ she said idly. ‘Documents?’
‘Paperwork keeps me pretty busy.’ He didn’t expand further.
Yeah, he was definitely in security. He probably had highly sensitive, eyes-only, no-digital-footprint papers in that bag.
Lily relaxed more, ready for some rest except her stomach rumbled loud enough to be heard over the engine hum. Damn.
‘Didn’t you have dinner before boarding?’ he teased.
She hadn’t had the time. She’d been crazy busy with the pack-out then too tired to be bothered grabbing something on her way to the airport. She should have.
‘There’s only coffee on board,’ he said. ‘And you can’t steal the crew dinner. Wouldn’t want to risk our safety with a hangry pilot.’
Yeah, he’d definitely done this before.
‘Fortunately…’ He reached into that satchel and pulled out a packet that he opened then shook it towards her. ‘Please don’t refuse politely. I assure you they’re nice. I’m happy to share mostly because I don’t want to listen to your stomach for the next seven hours.’
‘Fair point.’ She chuckled. ‘Thank you.’ Chocolate-covered almonds. Next-level delicious and Lily was ravenous. ‘These are really good.’
‘Don’t hold back,’ he teased as she reached for more.
‘Don’t offer if you don’t mean it.’
Wordlessly, he handed her the rest of the bag, but then still kept eating them as well.
They both chuckled, then snacked in companionable silence.
Lily watched the LED on the coffee machine flicker with ominous inconsistency, not that she wanted coffee, she was desperate for sleep, but it was about the only glow in the place and being in complete darkness might be a bit much.
‘They were just what I needed, thanks,’ she murmured when they finished the pack and he put the wrapper away.
‘My pleasure.’
He was just being polite. She was just overreacting—reading intimacy into everything because she’d been without for so long.
She removed her cap, uncoiled her hair and lightly massaged her scalp to chill herself out.
She’d sleep soon. Hopefully. Once she finally grew accustomed to sitting next to the hot courier—except her awareness of him was only worsening.
‘Your hair is so long. How do you fit it under the cap?’
In that too-tight bun she’d just undone. ‘It needs a trim but I never have time to get to the hairdresser.’
‘Good,’ he muttered bluntly. ‘You shouldn’t cut it.’
His audible appreciation made her flush all over again, but to her disappointment, he didn’t take his cap off. He just tugged it lower over his eyes and sank into the seat. Lily’s disappointment deepened.
‘So you’re not interested in the drivers at all?’ he asked after a moment. ‘Not for their money, of course, but they’ve got skills, right?’
‘Oh please. They’re not my type.’
She liked Conrad well enough. He was a decent family guy.
But she kept away from Emiliano—young, connected to the Hearnshawe family, he lived a far too public life for her liking.
But he’d asked her about tyre compound earlier today and had been interesting.
She didn’t want to garner attention. She just wanted to get on with her job, and eventually truly excel.
‘No?’ The courier sounded typically sceptical.
Lily rolled her eyes even though he couldn’t see her.
‘They’re extremely arrogant—I get they need bulletproof confidence given they’re putting their lives on the line, but it can be a bit much.
And the risk itself—I don’t know how their family even watch the races.
They have an insane schedule that leaves little room for fun—it’s all diet and exercise plans.
They have millions of fans sliding into their DMs, chasing them for photos every time they step outside.
I can’t think of anything worse than trying to compete with the models, dancers and singers or the minor royalty who want to be seen with them. No, thank you.’
‘Wow. You’ve given this some serious thought,’ he teased.
‘About what kind of relationship I might want eventually, sure. The reality is that any elite athlete, any highly successful person, makes sacrifices to get where they are. They have to be driven, with singular focus for years. Nothing is more important to them than that goal. Definitely not a girlfriend.’
‘You want to be first?’
Yes, it would be very nice to be placed first. Just once. Just for someone. ‘Give me someone ordinary. Someone average. With a heart that can be wholly mine.’
She paused, embarrassed. She’d just revealed too much personal truth. She couldn’t think how to lighten it again.
‘Still,’ he mused flippantly. ‘They’re good-looking.’
She chuckled, relieved. ‘You want an introduction?’
‘You offering?’
‘Never gonna happen.’
‘Because you want to keep me for yourself?’
‘You’re as arrogant as they are,’ she mocked.
‘Ouch.’ His shoulders shook.
But she just knew his confidence was innate—he had surety in his unbranded clothes and own skin—no super speed or stratospheric success necessary.
‘Then why not take me there?’ he asked.
‘Because I want to keep my job,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ve worked too hard to get to where I am to screw it up by bringing random people into the garage. Plus, I wouldn’t do it to the guys.’
‘You’re loyal.’
Damn right she was. Despite what her family thought. ‘I’m merely one small cog in a very large team machine, but if we each do our thing, we get results.’
‘Good for you,’ he murmured.
She softened, stupidly pleased at his support and too tired to stay sensible.
She couldn’t even see his face clearly yet her body was acting as if he was the hottest man on the planet.
Just his voice had her melting and while she would never let the personal get in the way of work, that wasn’t to say she wouldn’t play with someone outside of the racing world…
‘I bet guys hit on you all the time,’ he muttered. Apparently, his thoughts were tracking along a similar line. ‘You’re their fantasy come to life.’
There seriously weren’t many but it was flattering that he seemed to think it. It had been forever since she’d experienced anything remotely intimate. Five years ago her boyfriend had taken her brother’s side and she’d been utterly alone since.
‘They just want free merch,’ she said, trying not to notice the length of his thigh pressing against hers. ‘I’ve been hit with the worst pickup lines.’
‘P1 puns?’ He suddenly laughed.
It was an irresistibly sexy laugh. Lily couldn’t help laughing with him. ‘Like you wouldn’t believe.’
‘Try me.’
‘Oh, they want to warm me up, rev my engine, explore my curves with their long, straight…’
‘Wow,’ he drawled. ‘I bet they assume you like it fast or that you prefer hard over soft—’
‘Without checking whether I’m slick—’
‘Because they just want to kiss your kerb or brush your walls?’
‘Diabolically dreadful.’ She giggled. ‘And you’re holding out. You know some racing jargon. I’m thinking you’re a closet fan.’
He stiffened slightly. ‘Well, I do own a car…’
‘That’s the mistake,’ Lily murmured playfully, enjoying the tragic jokes. ‘Guys assume I’m the car. But I’m not. Nor am I the tyres.’
‘You’re the driver.’
‘Exactly.’ She rode out the ridiculous analogy. ‘Maybe I like the challenge of a hard-to-control machine. One with an engine powerful enough to get me sixty times around the circuit as fast as possible.’
‘So you do like it fast,’ he noted. ‘You want to hit the apex?’
‘Sure, but to do that I need full power and pace.’ She rolled with it. ‘Some downforce. All too often there’s not enough grip and they burn through the rubber before the finish line.’
‘Sounds like you need a better make and model. What if he’s too powerful for you to control?’
Yeah, he was arrogant. And a rogue.
‘Oh, I’m an exceptional driver,’ she purred.
‘Exceptional?’ he echoed softly. ‘You realise you’ve just taken the route straight to my heart.’
‘Sorry, but I’m way too fast for you to handle. You can’t catch me. Can’t match my pace.’
‘Maybe you should be careful. If you lose control you might crash and burn.’
‘But I don’t lose control,’ she replied. ‘I always hit the racing line.’
His laughter then was full-throttle amusement and fully attractive.
Smiling wide, Lily slumped lower in her seat, wholly relaxing at last. It was a simple joy to share weak jokes with a handsome stranger who smelt good and sounded better.
She watched the coffee machine’s LED display flicker haphazardly before finally failing for good and plunging them into darkness.
‘Oh look at that.’ She shook her head and then muttered the commentator’s catch phrase for the start of every race. ‘It’s lights out and away we go.’