Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
TESSA
This is a high-speed track, and it couldn’t be more fitting for the past few days. Taking in the historical data and sim runs, it’s clear that this circuit is fast and reckless, just like Rome and me.
We’re cutting corners and crossing lines, destined to crash and burn.
However, right now isn’t the time to linger on what we did and, instead, focus on what’s in front of me. Which is twenty sleek cars vibrating to hit the throttle, all with a hunger to succeed.
Including me.
“Radio check,” I say into my headset. “Can you hear me?”
“Even when you’re not speaking, I can hear you.”
Heat creeps up my neck.
“I heard that sigh, Princess.”
I shake my head, my lips twitching to smile.
“It was full of irritation.”
His dark chuckle sends a chill down my spine. “I don’t doubt it.”
“You need to focus,” I stress.
“I am focused,” he argues. “Are you?”
He doesn’t wait for me to answer.
“Did you drink your Diet Coke yet?”
How does he know about my favorite drink?
“No…I didn’t have time to get one.”
“I know.” I hear the smile in his voice. “That’s why I had one sent over to you.”
What?
I glance around in search of this infamous Diet Coke, and the moment I land on a Styrofoam cup with my name on it, I blink back in surprise.
“Find it?” he asks.
I grab it with shaky hands and suck on the straw, taking in three huge mouthfuls. The carbonation tingles the inside of my mouth, and I moan quietly.
He clears his throat. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
After another sip, I ask, “Is this a bribe?”
He snorts. “A bribe? For what exactly?”
I bite my tongue, refusing to say the words.
“For you not to dip out early next time?” he asks.
Sweat prickles my skin. “There is no next time.”
It’s going to be green in less than a minute, and this is not the conversation we should be having, especially on a radio where anyone could listen.
“Hey, Tess?”
“What?”
“Don’t make that noise again.”
My eyebrows furrow. “What noise?”
“The moan you just made when you took a drink of your Diet Coke…”
Oh.
“It sounds an awful lot like–”
“Rome!” I shout.
His chuckle is throaty, and if he could see me, I would flip him off.
Embarrassment stains my cheeks, and I sigh. “Will you please focus on the race? It’s minutes from take-off.”
“Fine.”
Rome’s deep breaths filter through my headphones as the race nears, and like a switch, he’s ready.
The countdown starts, the beeps matching the rhythm of my heart.
5…4…3…2…1.
I hold my breath when the light turns green.
Take-off is one of the most critical parts of a race. Depending on where you start on line, it decides your position and can limit any overtaking opportunities.
The first few seconds, Rome manages his clutch control, and I stay quiet, trusting that he knows what to do.
I reach for my Diet Coke and take another two mouthfuls, the burn of the soda easing my nerves for a split second.
“Take the outside,” I stress.
Rome says nothing.
He does exactly as I say and moves to the outside to come around Vinny. He moves to third, where he started.
“Yes!” I squeeze out between clenched teeth.
“Good call, Princess.”
I roll my eyes. “Stop calling me that, anyone could be listening.”
He chuckles. “Everyone calls you Vanstone’s Princess.”
“There’s a difference, and you know it.”
A few laps pass, and Rome does a phenomenal job holding his position. However, the track is fast, and some of the drivers are driving aggressively, whether on purpose or not, I’m not sure.
“Behind,” I say.
Milo King, a driver from the Australia team, is forced off the racing line, causing some unnecessary drama between a few cars. One spins into a curb, the other two nearly sliding against one another.
I wait for the flag to change and stare up ahead.
A blur of yellow catches my eye.
“Yellow…” I announce, blinking a few times.
“Who was it?” Rome asks.
I have an overwhelming urge to sit, so I take a seat.
“Um…” I take a deep breath, but it seems slower than I mean for it to be. “King, I think.”
“You think? What?”
I can’t focus.
“Sorry, yeah. It’s King,” I mumble.
“You sound off.”
I reach for my drink. “I just…my mouth is dry.”
My fingers are outstretched, but I can’t seem to reach my cup.
The flag changes colors, and the race resumes, and I can’t remember if I said anything.
I finally grab onto the Styrofoam cup and pull it toward me, only it falls from my grasp and spills everywhere.
Dylan curses and grabs me by the arm. “Tessa, are you okay?”
Seconds stretch.
I try to look at him, but there are three of his head, and they’re all swaying.
Something is wrong.
My stomach rolls, and a cold sweat breaks out along my forehead.
Rome’s voice cuts through the ringing in my ears, the panic catching me off guard.
“Tessa, talk to me.”
“Rome?”
“I’m here, Princess. What’s wrong? You don’t sound right.”
I try to talk, but nothing comes out.
“Fuck, I’m pulling into the pits.”
“No!” I shriek, except it’s delayed.
Suddenly, Beck materializes right in front of me. He grabs onto my arms to steady me and whips off my headset. He puts it on his head, and I know his mouth is moving, but I can’t hear him.
I slump forward, my forehead resting on his chest. “I…I…don’t feel good.”
My body shakes uncontrollably, but everything else is slow.
“Tess.” Beck shakes me, and my head wobbles back and forth. “Did you take something?”
I have tunnel vision.
The outer part of my vision narrows, and the last thing I see is Beck’s heavy browline and Gia running toward me.