Chapter 9 #3
We shift positions for another shot—this time staggered, slightly angled like we’re walking forward toward the camera in formation. The photographer calls out adjustments, Timmy chirps praise, and for a second, we’re all mannequins in million-dollar suits.
Then, under his breath, Lex says quietly enough for only Ronan to hear, “Still got that death grip on your jaw, Barnes. Better lighten up or you might crack a molar.”
Ronan’s head turns fractionally, only enough to shoot him a sharp side-eye. “Didn’t realize you were monitoring my dental health.”
Lex shrugs one shoulder. “Old habits. Hard to break.”
A beat of silence stretches between them. I keep my eyes forward but angle my ears toward the exchange, not even pretending I’m not listening.
“Are you trying to be annoying?” Ronan mutters, low and guarded.
Lex doesn’t look at him. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m tired of everyone else tiptoeing around like we’re gonna throw punches again.”
Ronan exhales through his nose, clearly not expecting that. “And you figured what—banter would help?”
Lex finally glances at him. “Certainly didn’t think it would hurt, but I forgot your funny bone must have been surgically excised.”
Something flashes across Ronan’s face—uncertainty, maybe. Or confusion. But not anger.
Then Nash breaks in loudly from the end of the line. “Are you two flirting? Because I’m feeling very left out over here.”
I laugh, grateful for the release. Even Ronan’s mouth twitches, though he covers it quickly with a tight swipe of his hand.
Lex smirks. “You wish.”
“God, I really don’t.”
The photographer snaps a few more shots, calling out encouragement, but my focus lingers on the quiet space between Ronan and Lex—no apology, no grand resolution. Just the smallest shift. A thread of familiarity tugged back into place.
It’s not much, but I can work with it.
After the shoot wraps, Nash peels away with his phone to his ear and I seize the moment by grabbing both Lex and Ronan by the sleeves.
“Okay,” I say, my head swiveling between the two of them. “Now that you’ve managed to stand next to each other without combusting, maybe we try an actual conversation.”
“What the fuck, Accardi?” Ronan snarls, jerking his arm free.
Lex sighs but doesn’t pull away. Ronan looks like he’s going to bolt but he holds his ground, eyeing both of us warily.
“I’m not trying to play therapist,” I continue. “But I’m not going to watch two grown men implode because neither knows how to talk. So… talk.”
Ronan glares at me. “This isn’t your business.”
“I’m making it my business,” I retort. “You can’t keep lugging this bitterness into every shared room.”
Lex folds his arms. “She’s not wrong.”
Ronan turns to Lex. “I know I fucked up, okay? I know, but you don’t have to keep looking at me like I killed your dog.”
Lex blinks in surprise. “That wasn’t my intention, but I’m curious exactly what you want from me?”
Ronan exhales, voice rough. “Nothing. I don’t expect anything. Not from you or Posey.”
“That’s helpful,” Lex mutters and attempts to break my grip on his sleeve, but I hold tight.
I throw my head toward Ronan. “Shocker, I know, but he doesn’t do apologies.” I turn my and fully lock eyes with the recalcitrant Brit. “But I did learn last night that he’s at least forthright. He should probably tell you at least how he feels about what he did to you.”
Ronan looks like a deer in the headlights. Lex looks to his former friend. “And how is that exactly?”
Scrubbing a hand through his wind-mussed hair, Ronan glares at me and then sighs in capitulation. “Like shit for what I did and if I could take it back, I would.”
Silence.
Then Lex says, quietly, “That’s the most real thing I’ve ever heard you say.”
Ronan stares for a long beat and then nods. “Well… I meant it.”
“I appreciate it,” Lex replies.
Ronan’s eyes cut my way, and he’s pissed I forced this, but he can’t deny… the results are good. He spins and moves through the paddock, disappearing out of sight.
Lex lingers beside me. “That went well.”
“Sorry if I was being pushy,” I murmur.
“You have a good heart, Accardi. I get it. But not sure he’s going to forgive you for that interference.”
?
The sky over Silvercrest has deepened to steel gray, the wind kicking up enough to tug at the hem of my jacket.
Most of the Drivex crew is packing it in—camera rigs being wheeled into vans, light stands broken down, wires spooled.
We’ve changed out of our race suits and I’m back in fitted black jeans, a charcoal sweater and my worn leather boots—nothing flashy, just comfortable.
My hair’s twisted up in a loose knot at the nape of my neck, strands still wind-tangled from the shoot.
I see Ronan moving toward his car, the collar of his jacket turned up. Lex is gone. Nash is chatting with one of the engineers. I’ve got no reason to interfere.
Except I do.
I hurry after Ronan and catch him as he reaches his Aston Martin. He hears me approaching and turns to face me wearing a scowl.
“Are you mad at me?” I ask, testing the ground like I might be stepping onto thin ice.
“Are you annoying?” he counters, tapping his finger against his chin as if he’s really weighing it. His mouth quirks, but his eyes don’t. “Yes. Yes, you are annoying.”
I snort. “Well, you’ve been weird all day.”
He doesn’t glance at me, just shrugs one shoulder, cool as anything. “You’ve been bossy all day.”
“Someone had to be.” I plant my hands on my hips, the warmth rising in my cheeks.
“Did they?” He sounds resigned, almost tired.
That prickle of irritation drives me forward a step. I fold my arms, staring up at him. “You and Lex were two seconds away from never speaking again.”
His head snaps toward me, eyes flaring. “And what—you thought you’d fix it? Patch us up like a good little team player?”
The words sting, but I lift my chin. “I thought maybe you’d like your friend back.”
“I don’t need a babysitter, Accardi.”
“You sure about that?” I match his dryness with my own, refusing to flinch. “Because all you have is a brick wall and a grudge. Since you’ve got those covered, I figured maybe you could use a push.”
His laugh cuts sharp, bitter enough to twist my stomach. “You think it’s that simple? You think a little reconciliation moment in a team-branded shoot is going to fix what I broke?”
I shrug, though my pulse is hammering. “Maybe not. But you showing up today? Saying what you said? That was a start.”
He steps in closer than he should, heat radiating off him, crowding into my space until I forget how to breathe. His voice drops, rough. “You don’t get it.”
I tilt my head, refusing to back down. “Then explain it.”
He leans even closer, angry now. “You think it’s easy for people like me? You think I haven’t tried?”
My mouth tightens. “You tried once. Today. And it meant something. Don’t pretend it didn’t.”
He’s full-on glaring now, and I don’t flinch. “Jesus. You really think it’s just about me and Lex?”
“I think there’s a whole lot more you’re not saying,” I reply. “And I think you’re terrified of what happens if someone actually listens.”
“Terrified?” He scoffs. “No. I’ve just learned better.”
“You push people away so you don’t have to risk being close to anyone,” I say, heat rising within me. “You burn the bridge before someone else does.”
He laughs again—cold, humorless. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about it.”
“No?” I step in this time, toe to toe. “Then tell me, Barnes. Tell me what makes it so impossible for you to let someone care.”
He clenches, hands in fists at his sides. The tension rolls off him like a bomb blast.
“You think it’s easy to just… have relationships,” he spits. “To talk. To show up. You think that’s normal. That’s safe. You have no clue.”
“Then help me understand,” I say again, softer this time. “You say I don’t get it? Explain it to me.”
His eyes lock on mine, wild and angry and dark. He breathes in sharply. “I’ll do one better.” He moves to the passenger door of his car and yanks it open. “Get in.”
I blink. “What?”
“You want to understand?” he says roughly, words edged with challenge. “I’ll show you. You’re coming home with me.”
I don’t move right away but his expression dares me to.
I slide into the seat without a word.
Ronan doesn’t say anything else as we drive into the night. But something volatile is building, like he’s going to explode and I’ll be picking up pieces forever.
This is most definitely going to end in a mess.
The question is whether it’s his or mine.