31. Wilder #2
He’s certainly looking at me right now like he wants to dissect my every thought.
Most of last night is pretty blurry in my mind, but I do remember him asking questions.
Questions I’m not sure whether I gave answers to and that leaves me feeling nervous under his watchful gaze.
When I don’t respond to what he said, he finally gives up.
I watch him as he moves to finish packing for a moment, noting the way he’s so methodical about everything.
Eventually he notices me staring, like he has so many times these last few days, and like all those other times, I don’t look away. “Seems you’ve practiced your staring this week,” he mumbles, trying to focus back on his task, as I push to sit up in bed.
“What can I say, I’ve had a captivating view.” His eyes roll again at my statement, but I still see the blush.
Fuck, I love that blush.
I think I could happily spend my days just trying different ways to pull it out of him and I’d be happy.
We’d have to stay on this mountain of course.
Nobody here knows I’m a rookie PRI star, nobody here knows Reed is the heir to a billionaire maniac, and nobody here even cares.
And I know that’s the only way this thing between us could work.
A knock sounds against the bedroom door before I can spiral further, only making my headache worse. "Move your asses!" Casper yells through the wood. "We're leaving in twenty minutes."
“Alright, keep your dick in your pants and fuck off,” I call back, desperately wanting to shove my head back under the covers.
“Can’t, the ladies love it too much,” Casper calls back, kicking the door open without invitation, because apparently privacy means nothing to him. He leans on the door, his hulking shoulders talking up nearly the entire frame, as he assesses Reed and me.
I already hate that look, and I don’t know how Caden and Bobby have been putting up with his golden retriever energy all alone back home. "What?" I grit, wanting him to fuck off.
He points between me and Reed. "You two are doing the thing again."
"What thing?" Reed asks cautiously, the blush now replaced with panic, and for that alone I want to punch my cousin in the face.
"The weird staring thing you’ve been doing since the moment I arrived," Cas confirms, his voice sounding completely smug.
"We aren't staring," Reed says quickly, too quickly, and I shake my head at his denial, forcing myself to climb out of bed.
Casper looks at me, then Reed, then back at me. "Sure, whatever you say.” His words are laced in sarcasm, so I stalk toward him and slam the door in his face. “Twenty minutes!” he calls through the door, and I drop my head against it and groan.
Silence settles back over the room, and when I turn back to Reed I find him already staring at me. Neither of us say anything, but what can we say? Thanks for sharing a bed with me? Thanks for reminding me what I can’t have? Thanks for becoming an addiction I can’t seem to shake?
“You should shower,” Reed eventually says, filling the silence, and I nod.
“Want to join me?” I dare to ask, and there is that blush again.
“Behave, Miles,” he says calmly, and I push off the door and cross the room toward him.
“Now we both know that word isn’t in my vocabulary, Blue,” I tease, leaning in close just so I can breathe him in.
His eyes meet mine briefly, and for one dangerous second, neither of us look away. Then he grabs his now closed suitcase and straightens his shoulders. “Twenty minutes, Miles,” he confirms, before stalking from the room without looking back.
The championship hotel is exactly like all the others I’ve been in this season.
Big, expensive, and overflowing with people, who are all pretending they aren’t judging one another.
EWC works differently than PRI races, and unlike PRI, I know I am out of my league here, not that I care, I still made it here fair and square, and I’m still going to fight like hell.
The second we arrive, the lobby is already crawling with drivers and their teams, sponsors looking for new blood, and journalists recording everything that is going down.
I feel reality come crashing down around me, as a heaviness settles on my chest. I fucking hate how it changes us all instantly.
Caden and Bobby are both on high alert, Casper, Matt, Knox, and Beck, are all ribbing each other about which one of them will be the next to grab a spot here, and Reed disappears back into himself completely.
The version of him from the last few days, the one who laughed at Casper’s ridiculous jokes and had me following him around like a lovestruck puppy, is gone before we even reach the lobby.
He’s all Prescott Lamont IV right now, with his sharp lines and focused eyes.
Professional. Untouchable. I open my mouth to say something, when he freezes in place, and I follow his line of sight to a woman I would recognize anywhere after stalking her online. Eloise Hartwell.
She is weaving through the crowd with an elegance I have never seen before, but the second she spots Reed, her entire face lights up. "Reed!" she calls out, and his expression changes completely. No mask, no hiding, just pure and unfiltered warmth.
He beams at her in a way I have never seen, and jealously churns inside of me, as I watch him leave me behind and stride across the open space to greet her.
As soon as he is in reach she throws her arms around his neck and pulls him in close, embracing him fully.
It stings more than it should, and I find myself unable to tear my eyes away from them, wanting to catalog every second of their interaction.
It’s Eloise, the famous Eloise, his best friend.
The one he shares everything with, including the unbound agreement to keep each other’s secret, and pretend to everyone else they are more.
I can see it now in the way they move, the lingering hug, the familiar touches, all practiced and polished to perfection.
They don’t flinch as someone snaps their picture, like they are more than used to the attention, and I guess they are.
A familiar voice cuts through my thoughts. "Well, well, well, Miles, fancy seeing you here." I turn to find Zara Michaels standing a few feet away, with her team badge around her neck and a grin already forming.
Great, just what I need.
“Michaels,” I nod, moving my focus back to Reed and Eloise, as she moves to my side and follows my stare.
“I didn’t know they let children race in the big leagues.” She delivers her barb with a sickly sweet sarcasm, and I roll my eyes.
“I guess they saw I nearly smoked your ass in Zurich and decided to toss me a bone,” I throw back, and she actually laughs, watching the same show I am.
"Who’s the prim and proper princess?" she finally asks, and I turn to find her watching Eloise with mild interest.
"My PR assistant's girlfriend." I don’t expect my answer to come so automatically, but what else am I supposed to say?
Zara sighs dramatically. “Damn, the pretty ones are always straight.”
Something twists unpleasantly in my chest at the lie I told, knowing I can’t correct her.
Reed never actually talks about Eloise as his girlfriend, not within the parameters I have come to know him in anyway, but I also know he wouldn’t deny it if someone outside of us asked.
Somehow that’s worse than knowing none of it is true.
"Or complicated," I add without thinking, and she snaps her stare to me, studying me closely. Too closely.
Then a sly, knowing smile appears on her face. “Oh,” she draws out, as if she just figured something out. Fuck.
“Oh what?” I ask as casually as I can manage.
“Nothing.” She shakes her head, her smile still in place, but when she looks back to Eloise now, I see a challenge rising in her eyes.
Following her stare back to them, I note that Reed’s stance has gone a little rigid, his face once again more serious, even though he is still smiling. Even from across the open space I can tell the smile is forced, and as I watch them turn and leave, a strange sense of unease settles over me.
Not because he’s leaving with her, not really anyway, but because something tells me I’m missing something. I just don’t know what.