9. Adrian
Nevaeh walks back into the office with a fake smile on her lips, and Lincoln trails in right behind her. Her cheeks are flushed and his breathing is uneven, but I don’t think anything happened between them except fighting. He looks way too unhappy, and, from what I’ve gathered so far, he seems to have feelings for Nevaeh.
If he’d kissed her, he’d look happier.
There is really no need for jealousy to flood me at the thought, but I think that’s what the strange, uncomfortable feeling lingering in my chest is. Jealousy. Not jealous of Lincoln, but jealous that he got her attention.
I sure as fuck am not jealous of the possessive asshole next to me.
I could treat Nevaeh a lot better than he could.
Wait, what the fuck?
“Alright, now that we’re all here, let’s get started,” Gillian Fender says, but my eyes keep slipping to where Nevaeh is sitting with a notepad on her lap and a pen between her fingers.
She’s chewing on her bottom lip, her hair falling like curtains to frame each side of her face. She’s so breathtaking. And I love the way she didn’t let Lincoln act like an alpha male asshole around me without putting him in his place. There is so much fire inside of her, so much passion, I can’t help but wonder if she loves as strongly as she despises.
“This season, we’re planning on focusing all our resources on—”
Gillian keeps talking, but I’m too mesmerized by Nevaeh to listen.
Freckles are dusting the bridge of her nose and cheeks that I didn’t notice before. Her eyes are a warm shade of brown—I think it’s called honey brown. She’s got long legs with thick thighs to die for and wide hips I can’t help but imagine digging my hands into to guide her against me. I have a thing for thick women, always have, and Nevaeh is the kind of curvy that I could spend my days worshiping until I’ve had enough. Because eventually I would get enough of her and move on.
Yes, I would.
Yes, I would.
Yes, I would.
I repeat the same mantra over and over until I’m at least a little convinced the words will stick. Because they need to stick.
I’m not fucking equipped to deal with… feelings.
“Mr. Romana, does that sound good to you?” Gillian asks, and I shift my head to bring my gaze to him.
Nevaeh is blushing beside her boss, staring down at her notepad with the sweetest smile. It fades as soon as Lincoln shifts beside me, catching Nevaeh’s attention. Her smile turns into the most vicious glare, making me bite back my own grin because damn. I like both of the sides she’s showing. I like the no-bullshit side and I like the shy-because-I’m-looking-at-her side.
“Yeah, sounds perfect,” I reply, having no idea what the fuck I just agreed to with Gillian. Gabriel grins next to me, clearly seeing the way Nevaeh keeps distracting me.
I very subtly kick him as I lift my leg to place my ankle on my knee, waiting for this meeting to finally be over so I can talk to Nevaeh.
Gillian keeps talking, so I do my best to look anywhere but at Nevaeh, but it’s like trying to overtake during a race where you only have three tires and the car in front of you runs on magic fuel.
It’s impossible.
So, I look. Again and again, until this god-forsaken meeting is finally done. I stand up along with Gabriel, Kyle, and Lincoln. Nevaeh and Gillian stand too, but I don’t get the chance to have a moment alone with my mysterious woman before she’s out of the door and on her way somewhere. I’ve never seen a person in such a rush before, but I’m assuming she doesn’t want to deal with Lincoln again.
Understandable.
Unfortunately for me, Lincoln takes that as an invitation to approach me instead.
“Stay the hell away from Nevaeh,” he says as we make our way outside the building. Gabriel is on the phone with Val, and Kyle could not be bothered less by all of Lincoln’s drama.
“Last time I checked, you’re not my boss, rookie, so I don’t have to do what you tell me to,” I reply, casually crossing my arms in front of my chest and looking straight ahead at the elevator doors. A smile tries to fight its way onto my lips, but I manage to bite it back.
“I’m not a fucking rookie, Romana. I was racing last year already.” The annoyance in his voice only amuses me more.
“Were you? I didn’t notice. Probably because you were always at the back of the grid and I was winning races.”
It’s a dick thing to say, but I’ve had enough of this little boy acting like he’s the king of the world. He’s only three years younger than me, but the twenty-one-year-old is certainly not acting his age either.
“Well, that’s about to change, isn’t it? Grenzenlos will be stronger than Velocità Rossa this year, and I’ll wipe the floor with you in no time.” A yawn slips past my lips as he speaks, but once he’s done, I place a hand on his shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze.
“Sure you will,” I say, stepping out of the elevator as soon as the words have left me. Gabriel falls in step beside me, grinning as he tells Val what I just said. He does it in French too, making sure Lincoln won’t hear my teammate making fun of him.
“Val says you shouldn’t provoke Lincoln unless you want his daddy to snitch on you to the FIA.” I burst into laughter so loud, Lincoln shoots me a glare while Kyle leads him outside, mumbling something about it not being worth it.
It really isn’t worth it, but I can’t deny that it isn’t at least a little fun to fuck with people who deserve it.
Nevaeh is her own person. If she wants me to stay away, I’ll stay away, but not because of the little rookie telling me to. It’ll be because she wants me to, and no one else.