Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
TESSA
Graham has changed the group name.
Family Bond Fund
Me
***
I park my car and huff at the sight of Rome’s Lamborghini.
I may hate him, but I can’t argue with his work ethic.
Van
It’s too early for this.
Six in the morning, to be exact.
Noah
I agree. I haven’t even had my coffee.
I notice that Beck hasn’t chimed in, which isn’t totally unusual, considering the sun hasn’t risen, but with the change in group name, I grow suspicious.
Me
Is Beck in jail or something?
I have our media team on speed dial. We’ve already had a bajillion meetings regarding Rome and the recent speculations over why he’s moved to Vanstone, so what’s one more meeting about Beck being incarcerated?
That’ll do wonders for my father’s health.
Beck
I’m an angel.
I snort and step out of my car with a Diet Coke in hand. I’m going to need about ten more of these to get through my day.
Graham
I could’ve gone to jail today.
Van
It’s 6:04 a.m.
Graham
I was a participant in a fight club at approximately 5:47 a.m.
I stop walking in the middle of the parking lot and glance at Graham’s car and then to Rome’s. My stomach somersaults.
Did they get into a fight?
Van
You’re on my nerves with the riddles.
Noah
Same. I still haven’t finished my coffee.
Beck changes the name of the group.
Mostly Nonviolent, Except Graham
Graham
I didn’t get into a fight, but I broke one up.
Me
Between who?
Rome and his other personalities?
My steps are slow toward Vanstone’s doors. I’d rather be prepared when facing Rome this morning. What if he got into an altercation with Ellis? He does love to give Rome a hard time.
Graham
You’re not going to believe it...
I stare at my phone and wait for another text to come through.
Graham
Rome and his dad.
My heart slips. What?
Van
Lucas? Where was this?
Graham
At the office! In the parking lot. I was in my car and saw the entire thing go down. Once I saw Lucas grab Rome by the collar of his shirt, I intervened. He was about to clock him.
My fingers work overtime.
Me
Then what?
Graham
Well…it ended with Rome saying fuck you to his dad, and then Lucas tore out of the parking lot faster than I could even wrap my head around what had even happened.
Van
Why is Lucas even in town? We’re all heading to Bahrain in two days.
I’m not sure I agree with the way my stomach twists with worry.
Surely I’m not worried about Rome.
I shake my head. Of course I’m not. I’m only worried about this messing with his head and distracting him.
Beck
I gotta say…it makes me hate Rome a little less, knowing he said fuck you to his dad.
I type, Is Rome okay?, only to delete it a moment later. I know my brothers well enough to know they’ll take my words and twist them into something they’re not–like implying that I actually care about Rome, which I do not.
I care about Vanstone and winning. Not Rome.
There’s a difference.
I pick up the pace and walk toward Ellis.
“Busy morning?” I ask.
He frowns. “You could say that.”
“So you saw?”
He nods. “I was about to step out there, but then I saw your brother take charge.”
“Was it bad?” I ask.
Ellis’s cheeks puff with a nod. “Seeing the way Rome’s father treated him this morning makes me a little less skeptical of his reasons for switching teams.”
Interesting.
I say nothing else and walk into the quiet, vast lobby. My phone continues to vibrate in my bag, but I’d rather speak face to face with Graham and get a good read on what’s going on before finding myself alone with a testy Rome.
Music blares throughout the speakers when I walk onto the shop floor. The tall garage doors are open slightly to let some air in, with engine parts splayed over the floor next to each car. My brother has his back to me, his eyes set on the computer screen as he checks something.
“Graham!” I shout.
He doesn’t move an inch. I try again, but still, he doesn’t move.
I pull a pen out of my purse and chuck it at his head.
He turns around angrily, his brown hair falling onto his forehead. His jaw unflexes when he sees me, but that doesn’t seem to deter him from bending low to grab the pen to throw it back at my face.
I move quickly, and the pen misses me by an inch.
He keeps the music on and points to a sign above my head. I turn and read it.
No girls allowed—only the word girls is crossed out with permanent marker, and instead, it says sisters.
I roll my eyes and wait for him to cut the music.
“How long have you had that sign up?” I ask.
Graham shrugs with a grin. “A while.” He goes back to his monitor. “Do you need something?"
“Yeah,” I stress. “Give me the tea! What happened?”
He glances over his shoulder. “What more is there to say? I already told you.”
I throw my hands up with a scoff. “Did Rome say anything to you about why his dad was here?”
Graham shakes his head. “No.”
“Did you ask?”
He squints. “Uh, no?”
I glance to the ceiling with frustration. “Did you ask him anything?”
Graham chuckles. “How could I? He stormed off into the gym and has been there since.”
I glance at the large clock on the wall in the middle of the shop floor. “Still? That’s way longer than usual.”
Graham spins all the way around and eyes me closely. “Do you have him on a time limit or something?”
My spine stiffens. “What? No. I just…know his schedule.”
Never mind the fact that he didn’t exactly share it with me. It’s just nice to know where the enemy is at all times.
“Well…” Graham walks off toward the cars to tinker with something. “He’s still in there last I saw. Maybe you should go ask him all these follow-up questions.”
“I guess I will–”
“But I’d do it at your own discretion,” Graham interrupts me.
I pause. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He cuts the music back on and gives me a thumbs up. I scowl and leave the shop floor.
All drivers exercise to maintain high endurance and strength, mainly to handle the G-forces, so it’s not unusual that he’s training. Noah and Beck do the same, though later in the day. But Graham’s warning rests quietly in the back of my mind until I spot him.
My steps falter. I wouldn’t be surprised if the glass window didn’t fog up from the rush of warmth to my skin.
The visual of a sweaty, bare-chested Rome will forever be embedded into my brain.
I hate that he’s so damn attractive.
The dips of his toned stomach rise swiftly from his run on the treadmill, and not only can I see from the bulging of his muscles that he’s been lifting weights, but the floor is scattered with dumbbells.
I step away from the glass, but my gaze doesn’t lag. I follow him across the room as he hops off the machine and moves to the punching bag. He punches it several times before pushing off it to turn toward the window.
I stop breathing.
Our eyes lock, and he pauses.
Sweat trickles down the side of his flushed face, his dark hair sticking to his forehead.
Jesus.
My skin prickles with something I refuse to acknowledge.
He’s worked his body to the brim of exhaustion, and just staring at him without a shirt on makes me exhausted.
It’s becoming harder and harder to deny that my body finds him attractive.
My stomach flips each time he gets close to me, and a rush of heat slips down my spine whenever his hand lands on my hip.
I have to glance away.
It’s too dangerous to look him in the eye right now.
I turn abruptly, which isn’t obvious at all.
The door creaks open. “Now that you’re done fantasizing about me, what do you want?”
And just like that, I want to smack him.
I turn and fling my hair over my shoulder. “You’re supposed to be taking it easy. We have a race soon.”
A bead of sweat drips off the end of his nose and onto the floor. “This is taking it easy.”
I cross my arms. “You’re usually done by now and posted somewhere in the lobby, waiting to tell me that I’m late or something. So, try again.”
Rome blinks a few times, and I wait for him to spill about his father showing up, but instead, he pops his AirPod back into his ear and shuts the door in my face.
I gasp.
He did not just do that.
I stomp after him.
The gym is hot and stuffy, which doesn’t help my already flushed cheeks.
I walk over to him, ignoring the rippling of his back muscles, and rip the AirPod out of his ear.
He turns and wraps his sweaty fingers around my wrist. The AirPod drops to the ground, and I try to jerk my arm back.
It doesn’t budge, and Rome’s fingers squeeze tighter.
“Why don’t you just tell me why you’re really here, Princess.” His tone is low but smooth.
My pulse flies beneath my skin.
I swallow and raise my chin. “I came to check on you.”
He squints, the blue hardly visible behind his dark lashes. “You came to ask questions.”
He isn’t wrong, but he isn’t fully correct either.
Whether I want to admit it, there is a deep-rooted part of me that wants to make sure he’s okay. Ellis’s earlier statement presses on my mind, and I don’t like it.
“That’s not true,” I argue. “Believe it or not, I care about my driver.”
Something flashes over his face, but the moment passes quickly, and he’s back to acting like the villain. His tongue jolts out of his mouth to wet his bottom lip. “Your pulse says otherwise.”
I forcefully tug on my wrist again, and this time, he lets me go. I’m not expecting it, and I stumble backward. I lose my footing, but instead of colliding with the floor, I collide with something else.
Rome’s bare chest.
His hand splays on my lower back, and he presses me to his firm body. I peer at him with wide eyes, and he gazes back at me with a knowing glint. “Careful, Tess. I might think you came here for something else if you keep looking at me like that.”
One second, I’m staring at his mouth, and the next, I’m shoving him away. “Ugh! You are so irritating!”
His smile grows bigger, and I hate that it’s such a nice sight.
I blow a breath out of my mouth in frustration. “You know what? I no longer care how you are. Hurry up and meet me in the sim. We have a full day of meetings starting at eleven, and then we’re on the road to Bahrain.”
He bends down to grab his AirPod off the floor. “Yes, ma’am,” he mocks, sending me to the red.
I quickly scan his sweaty chest and huff. “And take a shower!”
“You take a shower,” he counters, nodding to my shirt.
Tiny wet speckles dot the front of it from pressing against him. I groan and wrinkle my nose.
“You can join me if you want,” he teases, voice sultry and hot.
Heat spreads over my cheeks at the mere thought.
I turn around hastily, to avoid him seeing my unwarranted blush, and storm out of the gym.
I let the door slam behind me and go directly to my car.
I tear out of my Rome-infested shirt and throw on a wrinkly Vanstone sweatshirt instead, as if removing the thin scrap of cotton is going to hide the way my body burned when pressed against his.