Chapter 17 #3
His confidence in me floods my chest with unexpected warmth, a counterpoint to the cold dread those threats had instilled. Still, reality remains unavoidable.
"But he's right about one thing," I say reluctantly. "Our relationship does create vulnerability for the team. For both of us, professionally."
William nods, surprising me with his sober acknowledgment. "I understand, Violet." His hands tighten briefly around mine. "I don't want to be the reason the team has problems. The last thing I'd ever want is to undermine what you're building here."
His maturity, his willingness to prioritize the team's needs alongside his own desires, causes a painful knot deep in my belly. Deep down, I expected him to rebel against this. To try to change my mind. But no. He’s thinking about the bigger picture. And tears threaten to spill at his selflessness.
"So what do we do?" I ask, the question holding more weight than its simple words suggest.
William's fingers remain intertwined with mine, warm and steady despite the weight of our conversation.
The rain intensifies outside, blurring the test track into watercolor smudges of gray and green.
We stand like this for several heartbeats, neither rushing to fill the silence that hangs between us.
Finally, he speaks, his voice low but resolute.
"We keep our distance in public. Professional interactions at the track, in meetings, anywhere we might be observed.
" He traces small circles against my palm with his thumb—a contrast to his words, a silent rebellion against the separation he's proposing.
"We reduce our time together to a bare minimum, at least until we've neutralized Dominic's threat. "
The logic is sound, the strategy protective of everything we've worked for. Yet hearing him articulate it sends a hollowness through my chest.
"Agreed," I say, professional even now, even in this. "Team Principal and driver. Nothing more where others can see."
"We can still text," William adds, his eyes never leaving mine. "Encrypted apps, like I’ve seen online. And maybe, occasionally, when it's safe—"
"—when we're absolutely certain we're not being watched…" I leave the thought in the air.
His fingers tighten briefly around mine before he releases them, already enacting our new agreement, creating physical distance that mirrors the professional boundaries we've just reinforced. The absence of his touch is immediate and acute, like stepping from warmth into cold. It hurts.
I cross my arms, not in defensiveness, but in an unconscious attempt to preserve the heat his proximity generated.
This is necessary.
This is strategic.
This protects the team, our positions, everything we've built.
Yet I hate it with an intensity that surprises me—hate that Dominic's vindictive games have forced us into this careful choreography of distance.
William takes another step back, his expression composed but his eyes revealing the struggle beneath. "It won't be forever," he says, as much to himself as to me. "Just until we figure out how to neutralize that muppet. Until the season's underway, and the team's position is stronger."
I find myself studying his face, noting the subtle changes these weeks have wrought.
The bruise around his eye has faded completely, but there's a new tightness around his mouth, a slight shadow beneath his eyes that speaks of restless nights.
Despite this, he stands straight, shoulders back, meeting this challenge with the same determination he brings to impossible corners and adverse track conditions.
"I can wait. Forever. To have you. To have us. No matter how much this hurts—and it hurts like hell, mind you—I will wait."
Not for the first time, I'm struck by the maturity that belies his twenty-five years and playful demeanor.
The William most people see—impulsive, quick to laugh, occasionally reckless—is only one facet of this complex man.
This William, who understands stakes and sacrifices, who puts the team's needs alongside his own desires.
.. This William is the one who has slipped past my carefully constructed defenses.
"It's not ideal," I admit, my voice softer than intended. "But it's the right call for now."
He nods, running a hand through his hair. "I should go. EJ is outside, and Johnson is probably waiting for me in the simulator room." He attempts a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Team Principal and driver, from this moment forward."
As he turns toward the door, something inside me rebels—not against our decision, which remains logical and necessary, but against the note of resignation in his voice. Before I can overthink it, I step forward, catching his wrist. He turns back, surprise flickering across his features.
I pull him toward me, my free hand finding the nape of his neck, and press my lips to his.
The kiss is neither gentle nor tentative; it carries all the frustration and longing these weeks apart have generated, all the complications we now face.
William responds instantly, arms encircling me, body remembering mine despite our separation.
When we break apart, both slightly breathless, I don't release him completely.
"This won't stop me," I say, voice low but fierce, "from enjoying being around you and that.
.." I hesitate, searching for the right words.
"That what we have won't change. I care about you, Will. A whole fucking lot. I’ll protect us.
No matter what. I want you… to know that.
" I caress his jaw as his eyes widen slowly.
The admission costs me more than I expected, vulnerability never coming easily. But the simple truth feels necessary—a counterbalance to the pragmatic agreement we've just made.
Something shifts in William's expression, a softening around his eyes, a parting of lips as if words have momentarily failed him. His hands move to cradle my face, thumbs brushing my cheekbones with such tenderness that I nearly close my eyes against the sensation.
"I know," he says finally, matching my quiet tone.
He rests his forehead against mine, our breath mingling in the small space between us.
"It'll hurt to not be that close, but"—a small, sad smile touches his lips—"it's not all bad. I can still see you and interact with you. It'd be worse if we had to be separated. I’d burn the world down or… just go to Vortex HQ and slash Dominic’s tires or something. "
The optimism in his voice, his attempt to find positives in this difficult situation, and even joking around, make my heart ache even more. I smile, unable to help myself despite the complexity of our situation.
"Always finding the silver lining."
"One of my many talents," he agrees, some of that familiar playfulness returning. He touches my hair again, the straightened strands sliding through his fingers. "Along with appreciating every version of you—my Violet."
As he pulls away, preparing to enact our new agreement, I suddenly realize the true extent of the risk we're taking.
Not just to our careers or the team, but to our hearts.
If this goes wrong, if our careful management of public perception fails, if circumstances force us further apart. .. I might end up breaking his heart.
Some connections, rare as they are, deserve the courage to protect them—not just from external threats like Dominic, but from our own fears as well. And I want to protect William at all costs. My heart be damned.