Chapter 39 Cool It Off
Cool It Off
Dominic paused outside the door. The hospital was busy this morning; patients shuffled down the corridors, and children with light-up shoes filched sweets from the candy bowl when the nurse wasn’t looking.
He pulled his baseball cap low over his eyes.
No point in advertising his visit. Not that he gave a shit about being seen, but Juliette might.
Dominic raised his hand. The most important thing—no, the only thing that mattered—was seeing Juliette. He’d explain everything: his father’s ultimatum, his fears, the art gallery…
And then she’d forgive him. Or at least not strangle him with an IV drip.
Hopefully.
Dominic knocked.
“Come in,” Juliette called.
He pushed open the door. Juliette wore gray trackies and a white T-shirt, her hair pulled back in a hasty ponytail; grapefruit bodywash and that maddening strawberry scent filled the room. She paused, a jumper dangling over her suitcase.
“Ah.” Her expression was neutral. “I was wondering if you’d stop by before the race.”
Dominic shut the door. “I came last night.”
“I know. Baz told me.”
She turned back to packing. Dominic shifted the cardboard tray in his hands, assessing. So Juliette knew that he’d come by. Was that a good thing? Probably not since she hadn’t texted. But perhaps she’d been asleep for most of the evening. No need to jump to conclusions.
“How are you feeling?” Dominic asked.
She zipped up the bag. “I’m cleared to drive today. So that’s good.”
“Here. This is for you.”
He held out a cardboard cup. Juliette took off the lid, sniffing.
“What is it?”
Dominic set down the tray. “An apology. You were on for a good lap time yesterday. Until I messed things up.”
She took a sip. “Dirty chai. You remembered.”
Dominic braced a hand against a chair. “I remember everything, when it comes to you.”
The words felt like a painful admission. Juliette paused, the coffee raised halfway to her mouth. She looked on the verge of saying something, but it was too late, because he was already speaking. Babbling like an idiot, probably.
“I should have realized you were behind me. But Sinclair was ahead, and I was going into the corner—”
“And before that?”
He paused. “What do you mean?”
“What happened in the garage?”
Dominic suppressed a wince. He’d almost forgotten she’d witnessed that. “I shouldn’t have hit him. But…” He hesitated. “Did you sleep with Sinclair in Milan? Did you go back to his hotel after we—” had sex on the roof of a cathedral?
Juliette’s eyes narrowed. “Is that what he told you?” The answer must have been written all over his face because she exhaled. “He kissed me.”
His stomach tightened. “When?”
“Before the party.” Juliette paused. “It’s safe to say that I didn’t encourage it.”
Dominic stilled. He was suddenly very aware of the fast pulse of his heart, the ringing in his ears. His knuckles were white on the chair. When he spoke, his voice was calm.
“I take it back.”
“Which part?”
Something dark swelled in his chest. “I’m glad I hit the bastard.” He released the chair. “But I really am sorry about the rest of it.”
Juliette looked to the window. The curtains hung limp in the arid heat, like wilting flower petals.
Dominic steeled himself. Screw it. He was just going to tell her everything and then throw himself on her mercy.
The words beat like a silent drum. I’m sorry that I lied.
I’m sorry that I didn’t realize how I felt earlier, but I want to be with you.
I want you more than anything.
“There’s something that I—” Dominic began.
Juliette lowered the coffee. “I don’t think—”
They paused.
“You first,” Dominic offered.
Juliette drew a breath. Her dark hair fell in soft, vanilla-scented waves down her back, and Dominic had the sudden urge to wind it around his palm and never let go. “Last night, I was thinking about the first time that we met. That day at the academy. Do you remember?”
“I do.”
“All the boys worshipped you.”
Dominic gave a wry smile. “They had a funny way of showing it.” Nate had shaken his hand like he’d wanted to crush his fingers. And that was before the trying-to-out-bench-him-at-the-gym incident.
“And me,” Juliette said softly. “I worshipped you too.”
His smile faded. “I didn’t realize.”
“No. You wouldn’t.” She swirled her coffee. “I’m going to ask you a question, and I need you to answer honestly. What you said at that art gallery, all those years ago…” She met his gaze. “Did you mean it?”
Dominic’s heart rate doubled. “Why are you asking me now?”
“Just answer the question.”
Dominic’s mouth was dry. Tell her. This was what he’d come to do, wasn’t it? To unburden himself. His phone buzzed, and he glanced at it. Vance’s name popped up on the screen, and his blood ran cold. “I…”
Juliette waited. When he didn’t speak, her mouth tightened. “Ah.”
“What?”
Her laugh was humorless. “For so long, I hated you for what you said in Paris. Hated you. And then you came back into my life, and I wondered…stupidly, I thought that you might…” She drew a ragged breath.
“I convinced myself that you had a good reason for saying what you did, because I couldn’t imagine you meant it.
But I also never thought Cap would say those things about me. So maybe my judgment is skewed.”
Dominic gripped the chair. Juliette’s eyes were the blue of winter lakes, the sort of loveliness that only came as the consequence of pain.
“I need to hear you say the words, Hastings. No more bullshit.”
“What words?” Dominic said, like a coward. Like holding an umbrella against an oncoming hurricane.
“An apology. An explanation.”
Dominic drew a breath. The phone was motionless, but he felt like he was holding a loaded grenade.
No more, he thought fiercely. She deserved to know.
“Okay. Right before I spoke to you in Paris, I went to see my father. He knew about us. He had photographs.” He braced himself.
“He told me to end it, and I thought about what it would cost to go against him, in terms of a career—”
She reeled back. “Vance was going to sack you? For being with me?”
Dominic blinked. Wait. What? Too late, understanding struck, and he could have kicked himself. “Marchmont, I meant your—”
Someone rapped on the door.
Dominic bit back a growl of frustration. Honestly. Did the nurse doing the discharge paperwork have to pick right now? But it was Cap who slipped into the room, sporting a baseball cap and sunglasses, and Juliette must have been equally surprised to see her brother because she inhaled sharply.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Giving you a lift,” Cap said. “To the paddock.”
It was only through years of being teammates that Dominic could tell he was nervous. Cap reached up, as if to pull at his hair, and then settled for taking off his baseball cap. Juliette’s eyes narrowed.
“Baz was meant to—”
“He sent me instead,” Cap said.
“Fine.” She was already reaching for her phone. “I’ll call a cab.”
Cap made a noise. “You can’t just get in a cab. You’re too famous now.”
“Then I’ll call a driver.”
Her brother sighed. “Do you even have a driver?” Juliette pursed her lips, and he twisted the cap in his hands. “Look, the race starts in an hour. We’ll be late if we don’t go now.”
“I’ll take her,” Dominic said.
He was looking at Juliette, who was staring hard at an IV drip as if it held the secrets to the universe. Cap glanced between them.
“I’ve got it.”
Frustration rose. “We’re literally going to the same team garage.”
“Well,” Cap said, with just a hint of acerbity, “you’re not parking in it. You might be the Prince of Racing, Hastings, but the last time I checked, you still have to use the drivers’ car park like the rest of us.” He withdrew his car keys. “It’s up to you, Jules.”
Dominic turned. “Marchmont? What do you want to do?”
She drew a breath. She had the look of a prisoner weighing up the sword or the guillotine, and Dominic leaned forward, trying to catch her eye. Come on, Marchmont. Let me explain.
“I’ll go with Cap,” she said.
Any hope vanished. Dominic’s pulse raced as Juliette gathered the last of her things, turning for the door, and he caught her arm as she passed.
“Wait.”
His heart was pounding so fast that it felt like helicopter blades slicing his chest, and he glanced at Cap before dropping his voice and looking into Juliette’s eyes.
“I don’t give a damn about the trophy. What I want—what I really fucking want, more than anything in the world—is you. You know that, don’t you?”
Juliette stared. Dominic’s breath was ragged, coming hard and fast. For just a moment, he allowed himself to hope that it was enough, but then something shuttered in her gaze.
“I’ll see you on track,” Juliette said coolly.
The door shut, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps.
Dominic closed his eyes, inhaling once. Twice.
The smell of coffee and chai spice was suddenly suffocating, and he pushed into the lobby.
His head was spinning so badly that it took a moment to realize that figure standing at reception looked familiar.
“Look,” Liêm was saying, shifting a bouquet, “I know I’m not family, but I need to drop these off, because I have a big race today and I can’t exactly drive with these in the cockpit—” He broke off, his eyes snagging on Dominic.
“Dom! Thank the ever-loving fuck. What room is Juliette in? I’m already behind, and Hernández is going to have my arse—” He frowned. “Wait. What’s wrong?”
“She’s gone.” Dominic hardly recognized his own voice.
“Where?”
“To the track.” He felt hollow. “With Cap. She’s cleared to drive today.”
“I see.” Carefully, Liêm set the flowers down. “I take it the apology for running her off the track yesterday didn’t go well.”
Dominic sank into a chair. His head was pounding, and he rested it in his hands, taking shuddering breaths. The room was moving, like heat waves radiating off an asphalt track. The chair next to him creaked.
“Take a deep breath.” Liêm’s face was unusually serious. “Then start at the beginning.”
Dominic would have laughed if he’d had the energy. “I don’t even know where that is.”
Liêm braced his elbows against his knees. “Why don’t you start by finally telling me what happened two years ago?”
So Dominic did.
All of it.
Exactly as it had happened.