Chapter 29
Annalise
“We can’t go go-karting,” I say, staring up at the sign on the building we’re standing in front of.
It’s been a week since Max’s Monaco win, and it’s his free weekend before the next race in Barcelona. Despite both of us being in the same building, we haven’t had much alone time together. Mainly because of work and my entire family is still in town.
Most nights I’ve spent with Chloe at my place after dinners with my family after working on the many photoshoots or follow up tasks for Travis during the day.
Tonight is different, however. My parents and Chloe have gone into France for the night to meet up with some of our other family members. Which allowed me to respond to Max’s invitation out tonight. He’d mentioned dinner at his place followed by a secret destination.
“Why not?” he asks, taking my hand into his and pulling me toward the entrance.
I stop him. “Your contract.” I shake my head. “I haven’t read yours but I know Trav and most drivers have an iron-clad clause that prohibits extreme sports outside of their profession. Which includes go-karts.”
I look at Max expectedly.
His eyelids lower slowly. “I recall something about that.”
“We can’t go-kart then.”
“We can,” he counters. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve rented the place out. No one will know.”
“No one but—” I’m cut off.
“Max,” a young employee dressed in the company’s light blue polo-style shirt greets. “Welcome to All-Night Go-Kart.”
My first instinct is to duck my head to keep anyone from seeing us, but as I glance around, I notice something very peculiar.
“We’re the only ones here.” Max says squeezing my hand, pulling me toward the entrance. “I promise, I won’t get injured.” He winks at me.
“You can’t make a promise like that,” I grumble.
Aside from the worker, he’s right. It’s just us which alleviates the concern about his contract, though I’m pretty certain we shouldn’t be doing this. Also, I still haven’t told anyone—not my mother or sister, and especially not my brothers—about seeing Max.
He and I haven’t even talked about what this actually is between us. Every time I imagine telling my family, especially Travis, I picture the disappointment on their faces.
I blink and shake my head as the racing thoughts threaten to take over.
On a deep inhale, I remind myself that my family isn’t here and what’s happening between me and Max probably isn’t going anywhere.
My brain attempts to persuade me again that he’s only here to set me up as a means to cause strife between my brother and I.
But it’s a half-hearted thought at best.
I can’t force myself to believe that any longer.
“Is everything alright?”
Max’s question brings my attention back to his face. I don’t like the look of concern I see there, so I brush my thoughts aside.
“We have the karts already set up for you,” Leon, the employee, says.
“Excellent.” Max takes my hand to follow Leon.
I continue to glance around as Leon winds us through the main entrance and the part of the building that’s set up as an arcade. A piece of me feels guilty seeing how empty it is, then it’s on the tip of my tongue to ask Max how much he spent to rent this entire space out for the night.
Once we pass the arcade, through the back doors of the building and come to an almost hidden racetrack. I’ve been to this place a couple of times and always forget the racetrack is here since it’s so well tucked into the hills of the country.
It’s a three-lane track that’s been created to replicate the streets of Monaco, allowing drivers to feel as if they’re racing directly in the street.
“We’ll give you two laps around to get familiar with the karts before we start the timer. Best two out of three wins the most points.”
“Wait,” I stop Leon, “we’re actually racing one another?”
Max’s brows dip. “Of course.”
“What do you mean ‘of course’?” I respond in a mock British accent. “I’m not racing you.” I throw my thumb in his direction and look at Leon. “You know this is totally unfair, don’t you? He’s literally a world go-kart racing champion.”
“Two time champion,” Max corrects.
I knew that, and the smirk playing on his too perfect lips tells me he knows that I knew it as well.
There’s also the minor fact that he just won the Monaco Grand Prix last weekend, but why bring that up and inflate his ego even more?
“Are you scared?” Max taunts.
“Scared.” I spit the word out.
“Of losing. I mean, if you’re frightened of my beating you, all you have to do is concede right here and now and we can go do something else. The pool table looks a little empty.” He glances in the direction from which we just came.
“Scared,” I scoff. “I’m pointing out that the odds are slightly disadvantaged in your favor.” I shrug with one shoulder and look over at Leon. “You know, so when he loses just remember it was me who gave him the out to prevent him from embarrassing himself.”
Leon grins.
Any concern I had about Max violating his contract flies out of the window as soon as my competitive side is aroused.
“Shall we?” Max asks.
I take one of the helmets that Leon hands us, dutifully inspecting it to make sure it’s been cleaned before placing it over my head.
“You need help with that, princess?” Max asks with a hint of playfulness in his voice.
I smack his hands away. “I know how to put a helmet on. Plus, you’re just trying to set me up.” I narrow my eyes on him.
“I would never.”
I snort as I tighten the helmet’s strap, securing it comfortably to my head.
Once we’re in our respective karts, I slap the helmet’s plastic component over my eyes as I look threateningly at Max. “Let’s do this.”
He chuckles before reminding me that we’re doing a few practice laps to get the layout of the track first. I barely heed his reminder before I lay my foot on the pedal and take off. The car moves faster than I’d anticipated, causing me to jerk a little.
My competitive nature has reared its head.
Max might be a two-time go-kart champion and does this type of driving for a living, but he hasn’t seen me when I’m set on winning.
I hone the same energy I used to win my state’s debating championship two years in a row in high school and focus on the track.
The turns come up quick and the straightaways are not nearly as long as I’d like, but I work to memorize each part of the track. Leon makes an exception and allows us to go around the track three different times, one of which is by ourselves so as not to get distracted by the other driver.
“Ready?” he asks as Max pulls up next to me after his third lap.
We both look at one another, only able to see each other’s eyes as the rest of our faces are covered by the helmets. I look directly into Max’s eyes, narrowing mine, a silent attempt at warning him that this won’t be the easy win he likely predicted.
While that was my intention, I momentarily get distracted by the sparkle in his hazel eyes.
Even from the distance of my own car, I notice specks of gold in his irises.
For some reason I’m taken back to last weekend when he stood at the top of the podium to receive his coronation for winning the Grand Prix.
The camera had panned to his face while Britain’s national anthem played.
There was a sparkle in his eyes that rivaled the luminescence of the sun’s rays hitting the water over the French Riviera. There came a moment, right before the national anthem ended, where Max looked directly into the camera and it felt as if he were looking right down into my soul.
A smug yet sensual this is for you felt whispered into my ear.
“Let’s go!” Leon’s declaration pulls me out of the memory right as the alarm sounds.
Max is faster than me at the start. However, I don’t let that bother me. I rely on the practice laps we took earlier to guide my steering and avoid crashing into the padded wall lining the borders of the track.
Despite my best efforts and my focused concentration, Max easily manipulated his kart with an ease that comes from natural racing talent and years of practice.
Though I know better, I cut my gaze over in his direction at one point of the track in which he manages to glide right past my go-kart.
Unlike in an actual F1 race, his entire body isn’t cloaked in a racing suit.
The short sleeves of his polo shirt allow me to catch sight of his muscled forearms as they tightly grip the steering wheel.
His arms are a beautiful bronze. I shouldn’t admire the golden hairs on his arms either or how it reminds me of the slight five o’clock shadow he sometimes develops in between races. I wonder what he would look like with a full-on beard.
Beautiful. Like a dream, my mind answers.
Visions of a bearded Max Ferreira distract me so much that I don’t even realize how much farther ahead of me he’s pulled until I hear Leon whooping and clapping as Max crosses the finish line.
“That’s not fair!” I immediately yell out as I approach the line where Max has stopped his go-kart.
His eyebrows spike. “Fair? What was—”
“You distracted me,” I say, cutting him off.
Max dips his head and slightly cocks it to the side, and I force myself to look away because he’s too damn gorgeous.
But I don’t like losing and I will not be distracted by his devastating good looks or that wicked smile.
“I hardly believe it’s my fault you couldn’t focus, princess.”
“I want another race,” I declare, looking over at Leon.
“You’ve got two more turns around the track,” our attendant reminds me.
I nod and then take off for the starting line without another word. This time I will not be distracted by something as trivial as Max’s damn forearms. Who the hell gets distracted by forearms anyway?
I shake my head because not me. It’s just that I needed a little more time to get used to my go-kart.
It’s been years since I’ve gone go-kart racing …
a fact I’d told Max weeks ago during one of our nightly dinner and movie dates.
He must’ve tucked that information away and stored it up for tonight.
“Ready. Set. Go!”