CHAPTER TWENTY
Kaia
It was the day of Forward Racing’s anniversary party. Asher had left with Javi to pick up his suit, and they’d get ready at Alejandro’s. I only hoped the party went smoothly. We’d have to be careful not to spark Dad’s suspicions, but at least Asher and I would be in the same place.
Dad’s and Sharon’s voices rose downstairs. Before they could call me, I slipped into my black coat and left my room.
Sharon stood beside Dad in the foyer. Her blond curls framed her golden gown. For a moment, I wondered what it would’ve been like to attend the gala with Mom. Then I shook it off. She wasn’t here—Sharon was. And Mom wouldn’t want me drowning in sadness forever.
“You look pretty, Kaia,” Sharon said with a smile. “Red is definitely your color.”
My fingers tightened on my clutch as I glanced at the red gown. Would Asher like it? I couldn’t wait to see his face. “Thank you. You look beautiful, too.”
“We should go.” Dad checked his watch. “I hope Asher’s there when we arrive.”
“He’s never late to important events,” Sharon said, stepping out. “I’m sure he’s already at the venue with Javi.”
Dad locked the door, frown deepening. “We should’ve driven together. It’s important to project the right image.”
Heat climbed my neck at the memory of last night—Asher’s lips on mine. We’d been reckless. If Dad found out, grounding me would be the least of it. What would he do to Asher? Kick him off the team, ruin his career? The thought twisted my stomach. He couldn’t know.
The second Dad unlocked the car, I slid into the back seat, rifling through my purse to hide my nerves while Sharon reassured him yet again that Asher was waiting.
***
The hall buzzed with expensively dressed people, but Ash wasn’t among them. Sharon pressed her phone to her ear, flicking anxious looks at Dad while he worked the room, shaking hands with men in suits and women in glittering gowns.
I hugged my arms around myself, taking in the red-and-gold décor—the team’s colors everywhere, from balloons to the tablecloths.
“Good evening.”
A guy in a beige suit, his sandy blond hair nearly the same shade, stopped beside me with a wide grin. “I’m Ethan.”
The name tugged at something faintly familiar. Dad or Asher must’ve mentioned it, though his face didn’t ring a bell.
“Brooks,” he added, like it should mean something.
“Kaia Demeri,” I said cautiously.
His brows lifted, almost imperceptibly. Realization flickered—he knew whose daughter I was. His glance darted toward Dad just as he left Sharon’s side and strode over.
“Mr. Demeri,” Ethan said smoothly, “you have a beautiful daughter.”
I forced back a snort. Of course he’d say that to suck up to my father. Too bad Dad cared so little about me that calling me beautiful didn’t win anyone points. It didn’t with me, either. Compliments from strange men only made me uneasy.
Dad laughed. “I sure do. Ethan is one of our racers,” he told me. “Come on, Kaia, the photographer’s here.”
So, he was Asher’s teammate. The only racer Ash had mentioned acted like an ass at his birthday party. If this was him, I had even fewer reasons to trust him. I edged back, widening the space between us.
Ethan nodded at my father, then let his gaze slide over me. It stalled at my neckline, and the wrong kind of shivers crawled over my skin. “See you later.”
More like, never. Dean had already taught me enough about being cornered. The memory still made me sick.
Dad took me by the elbow and steered me toward a red backdrop with the team’s logo. A curly-haired photographer chatted with Sharon, who smiled politely while glancing at the door, phone clutched in hand.
“He had only one job,” Dad muttered, flicking a look her way. I opened my mouth to defend Asher, but a commotion cut me off.
Alejandro entered first with Dawson, hands flying as he told a story. Both wore slate-gray suits and looked sharp, but my eyes locked on the man behind them.
A thrill ran through me as Asher crossed the hall. His black suit fit like it had been made for him, crisp white shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of sun-kissed skin. Dark hair combed to the side, he drew every eye in the room—and mine most of all.
He reached us. “Russell. Mom. Sorry for the delay. We had an issue with Javi’s suit.”
Not a glance at me. His eyes stayed on our parents, as if I weren’t there. As if last night’s kisses hadn’t happened. An ache swelled in my chest. My fingers locked around my purse until my knuckles ached. No—he wouldn’t. That wasn’t him.
“It’s all good now,” Javi said behind me. “Hi, Kaia.” Unlike his friend, he had no trouble acknowledging me.
I managed a thin smile. “Hi.”
“Kaia, Asher, come here.” Dad motioned toward the photographer.
I stood by Sharon. Asher took his place beside me, and when Dad stepped in too, the photographer raised his camera.
“Smile,” he called.
I fixed my eyes on the black lens as the shutter clicked again and again.
Pretending had become second nature, but I’d be surprised if disappointment hadn’t seeped into my expression. When the photos ended, we moved to a table near the stage. Javi sat with us while Alejandro and Dawson joined three men at the next table.
Asher slid into the chair beside Sharon.
“You should’ve made sure to be here on time,” she whispered, probably thinking nobody heard. But I did—and so did Javi, who rolled his eyes. When our gazes met, he winked, his smile warm and easy.
Dad walked to the stage as the lights dimmed. He tapped the microphone, beaming at the guests.
I didn’t get his smiles anymore. All I got were scowls, because I wasn’t someone he cared to impress.
I tried to focus on his speech but drifted. Minutes later, applause rippled through the hall.
“To Forward Racing and future victories!” Dad declared.
Sharon lifted her champagne. Glasses rose around us. I sipped my water as Dad returned to the table.
Shortly after, dinner was served. Our table stayed uncomfortably quiet.
Sharon chatted with Dad, but Asher barely spoke, and Javi wasn’t much better.
After dessert, Ash dabbed his mouth with a napkin and excused himself.
He slipped from the hall, and out of the corner of my eye, I caught Alejandro trailing after him.
Javi pushed back his chair. “I’ll be back in a few.”
I nodded, tracing circles on my glass with a fingernail. I wanted to follow, but after how cold Asher had been, I wasn’t sure I should. Why had he left? The speech, probably. He must’ve thought of his dad, who started his career at Forward Racing.
A band set up on stage, tuning instruments while guests drifted outside or clustered like Dad and Sharon, networking. Mom had hated crowds, but Sharon smiled easily, striking up conversation without effort.
Colored lights blinked on, and the vocalist greeted the room. A slow song filled the space. Dad led Sharon out, twirling her to applause.
I looked away. Their affection still stabbed too deep, and I refused to watch.
“Will you dance with me?”
Ethan stood beside my chair, hand outstretched. My body froze, heart thudding. Crap. How could I refuse without giving myself away?
“She already promised me this one.” Javi appeared behind me, his hands settling on my shoulders. “Sorry.”
Relief loosened my chest. I inhaled fully again as Ethan’s eyes narrowed. His lips tightened—Javi had gotten under his skin. Good.
I stood, letting Javi guide me to the dance floor where couples swayed.
“I’m sorry in advance for stepping on your toes,” he said, taking my hand and settling his other at my waist. “And for having zero rhythm.”
“You can’t be that bad,” I said as we began to move.
I was right. He was steady, easy. No tension in his frame.
He leaned closer. “Thanks to your boyfriend, I haven’t embarrassed myself yet.”
My boyfriend. Warmth enveloped my skin. I’d give anything to be dancing with Asher instead.
“Did he teach you?” I asked, letting Javi twirl me before his hand found my waist again. “I didn’t even know Asher could dance.” I didn’t know a lot—like why he’d taken me to watch the city lights, kissed me like he couldn’t get enough, then acted like I was invisible today.
“His dad taught him, and he taught me. We laughed our asses off, but it stuck.”
“Asher’s good at a lot of things,” I murmured. Racing. Making me feel cherished. And abandoned.
Javi’s hand squeezed lightly at my waist. “He’s behind you. Don’t turn. I will.”
He shifted, turning me so my back faced the other side of the room. Asher leaned against the wall, head bowed as if studying his hands. Then he looked up—and my breath snagged.
He wasn’t indifferent. His gaze burned, molten and consuming, searing me from across the room.
“This is hard for him,” Javi said. “But don’t tell him I told you.”
My chest tightened with sadness and confusion. Hard for him? Then why not make it easier—say hi, talk to me—instead of pretending I didn’t exist?
“I thought he was ignoring me,” I admitted.
Javi’s quiet chuckle brushed my ear. “Ignoring you? He stood outside the hall for five minutes watching you through the door before this started. He just can’t do anything, Kaia. Look around. Everyone’s watching. The season hasn’t begun. He can’t risk getting kicked off the team now.”
Guilt pricked. It hadn’t occurred to me that Ash worried about being seen with me just as much as I did. We weren’t doing anything wrong—but would anyone else agree? Would my father and Sharon?
Of course not.
Air slipped out in a shaky exhale. Javi edged back, his expression a mix of apology and concern.
“After the way your father talked to you last night, giving you too much attention would put Ash at risk. But if there’s one thing I know, it’s that he’d trade his bike and every future trophy to be in my place right now. ”
His words eased the knot in my chest. I risked a discreet glance at Ash. He’d probably read the same thing on my face that I saw on his—longing. It was his arms I wanted around me, the only dance I wanted.