Chapter 29
EVANGELINE
The Even Better Eleven are meeting up in Shelby’s room tonight, which is a quick jaunt across the square from where I’m staying. Most of the team accommodations in Spain are in the Gothic Quarter, and Barcelona is extremely walkable, so I make the trek on foot by myself.
With an extra spring in my step, I enter the ornate lobby. I really am having the best day, despite Granata not doing well in the race.
Chalk it up to getting a great night’s sleep, which doesn’t always happen for me, and starting my day off with a soul-aligning orgasm compliments of Alaric Steele.
My social listening assignment for this race was digital, meaning I didn’t have to be in the grandstands or near the pit wall while the team struggled today.
I watched from the roof of the Granata motorhome, nibbling on a spread of snacks the culinary team prepared and taking shelter inside when we got hit with rain.
I ended the workday studying gorgeous pictures of a surly Alaric from the press conference as I categorized my final batch of data. The man is even beautiful when he scowls.
I downplayed how happy I was to see him earlier when we bumped into one another. We were both working, and I assumed he’d had a shit day. But I wish I could have comforted him. I wish I could have given him a tight hug or taken him up on his offer to get together tonight.
Part of me even considered skipping Sweatpants and Chill.
Logic kicked in before I could go through with it, thankfully.
I used to be the girl willing to ditch her friends or cancel plans any time a guy gave me attention.
I don’t want to fall back on old habits.
There’s no rush or pressure where Alaric is concerned.
His steady assurances made it easy for me to take a breath, refocus my priorities, and not lose myself in the rush of what’s building between us.
He wants more.
He can’t wait to be inside me for the first time, and he’s nowhere near done with me yet.
The man’s mouth is sinful. I blush every time I recall the delicious, dirty promises he whispered while he drove me higher and higher. I’m desperate to be with him again. But I also need to be cautious. Because of work. Because of Luca. Because of me.
We both want more. But what does more look like, and am I even ready to jump into another relationship?
Keeping a level head is essential. It’s important I refrain from losing myself in another person’s world.
Alaric is a busy, important man. He has a lot going on, so he can’t always prioritize me, especially during race weekends.
It’s on me to not get so fixated on him that I bend over backward to experience even a modicum of his attention.
“Ev.”
Spinning, I find Mia and Ren cutting across the lobby to the elevators.
“Hi. Hi.” I pull Ren into a hug, then grip Mia’s shoulders and hold her at arm’s length. “Congrats on your first points, Mimi.”
My friend, who finished P7 today, grins back at me, her bottom lip quivering. “I still can’t believe it,” she whispers, as if acknowledging her accomplishment out loud might cause it to vanish.
“Babe, I’ve told you all afternoon—you earned that shit. Be proud.” Ren throws their arm around her, giving her a side hug.
“I don’t even know how I did it.” She shakes her head in disbelief.
Inside the elevator, she swipes a room key she must have snagged from Shelbs, then selects the twenty-eighth floor.
“You’re an amazing driver.” I take her hand and squeeze as the car starts its ascent.
Ren gives me a knowing look. Mia is so hard on herself. She deserves to enjoy this moment. Otherwise, what’s the point of it all?
“It may be your rookie season, but you’ve been driving single seater for as long as the rest of the Elite Eight,” Ren reminds her. “You earned this, and you deserve this.”
Like Mia, Ren was the only rookie driver in their first year in Formula 1, so they know firsthand the pressure and prejudice that comes with this gig.
“Thanks,” she says, cheeks going pink as the elevator dings and opens. “I didn’t expect it to feel like this.”
We trail behind her, operating under the assumption that she knows the way to her sister’s room. Following the leader is unnecessary, as it turns out, because the attendees already gathered are causing a ruckus we can hear from the hall.
Grinning, Mia scans the room key and pushes the door open.
We’re greeted by a chorus of hellos from everyone but Kenji, who’s in a duck onesie, and Saint, who’s wearing bright green fuzzy eyelash pajamas. The two of them are too busy arm wrestling at the island to notice us.
“He looks like a Muppet.” Ren snorts, crossing their arms as we take in the scene.
“There she is.” Prince jogs into the entryway, grinning from ear to ear.
His blond hair is slicked back and still damp, like he just got out of the shower.
He’s wearing joggers and an insanely fitted performance T.
As much as we all rag on him, this is the most “dressed down” he ever gets for Sweatpants and Chill.
Without hesitation, he wraps Mia up in a hug, lifts her off her feet, and spins her around.
She giggles, her grin just as wide, as she soaks up his praise.
Ren clamps down on my forearm. “Are you seeing this?” they hiss under their breath.
“I can’t look away.” Fascination and horror battle inside me as I witness the moment.
Eventually, Prince sets Mia on her feet and tucks her chestnut brown hair behind her ear. Then he huddles close and whispers to her.
She blushes, and a heartbeat later, she narrows her eyes and shakes her head slightly.
He turns toward the living room and offers her his outstretched hand.
“Oh. My. God.” Ren squeezes my arm so tightly I’m afraid I’ll have bruises tomorrow.
“Ow.” I pull away. “But also, what the hell was that?”
“I—I have no idea. Did we just witness something we shouldn’t have seen? Neither of them was even trying to hide it.”
Mia has got a lot of explaining to do.
“We’ll take her to brunch and grill her this week,” I suggest. “For now, I’m starving. Let’s check out the spread.”
The two of us stroll into the kitchen, greeting our friends and grabbing a few snacks.
I quickly check my phone, readying to deposit it into the basket Shelby has set out at one end of the bar, but the sight of a notification has me stopping in my tracks.
AS
Have fun tonight, angel. Text me tomorrow if you’d like me to come over and make breakfast.
My heart. He took the time to check in.
I send a quick reply, suddenly not so eager to let go of my phone.
EB
I’d love that. I miss you. What are you up to tonight?
I hold the device to my chest and survey the group, weighing my options.
I spent the last couple of hours sitting in my hotel room, thinking about Alaric.
About the way he held me this morning. About the expert way he touched me.
How he drove me to the brink of orgasm then backed off.
I’ve never been edged like that before—at least not intentionally, though I’ve had plenty of partners who couldn’t get me there.
How Alaric knew right when to pull back, and just how much more intense my orgasm would be, was nothing short of pure magic.
It still kills me that I couldn’t return the favor.
I want to see him, taste him, and explore his body with the same reverence he showed me this morning.
With a wistful perusal of the room, I silently scold myself.
These are my friends. My closest companions.
The people who have stuck with me through so much.
Who supported me throughout my tumultuous relationship with Luca and who have stood by my side and even stood up for me as I’ve navigated working in the world of Formula 1 after dating and breaking up with a driver.
Thoughts of Luca remind me of the risk associated with my latest crush.
Crush. No. The word is far too elementary for my feelings toward my ex-boyfriend’s dad.
We share an intense attraction and a sort of subliminal, intuitive connection. It’s heady and poignant, yet light and natural. Alaric’s like gravity, and I’m free-floating matter. All I want is to be anchored by his personal brand of care.
It’s dangerous, what I’m considering.
Because despite knowing I shouldn’t jump headfirst into a relationship right now, I don’t think I can do casual with this man.
Our connection is too strong, the care and adoration he showers me with already too addicting to overlook. I truly shouldn’t be considering this at all.
He’s too old. Too serious.
He’s Luca’s dad, for crying out loud.
And he’s my boss.
Then there’s the team to consider. Given how the last man in his position disgracefully left Granata, a sensible or professional way to proceed does not exist.
“Earth to Evan.” Shelby sidles up beside me and bumps me with her hip. “You’ve got the goofiest look on your face, girl. Who’s got you smiling like that?”
I shake my head to clear my thoughts, realizing that my cheeks hurt from grinning so wide.
“Oh, no. I—I don’t…”
Her face drops, her lips parting. “Oh god. Please don’t tell me you’re back with Luca.” She sucks in a breath, hissing through her teeth. “I freaking told Mia this would happen. If you two are back together—”
“No,” I interrupt. “I’m not back with Luca. Never again, Shelbs. I swear.” Maybe I’ve made the same declaration before, but this time, I mean it.
“Has he given you any more trouble?” she asks, her voice softer. “I can’t believe Mia slapped him. And I’m more surprised that she seems to have gotten away with it.” With her arms crossed over her chest, she shakes her head, homing in on her sister across the way.
I sigh, memories from the ball smacking into my consciousness.
Has Luca given me anymore trouble beyond accusing me of being a gold digger and sleeping with his dad for money? No.
But that’s because he hasn’t had the opportunity to run his mouth since then.
“I haven’t seen him since the ball,” I say. “Yes, he was a bad choice, and yes, I kept making it over and over, but I can assure you, he’s a mistake I won’t ever make again.”
She grins. “You sound like a woman who’s moved on to greener pastures,” she teases.
If by “greener pastures” she means my ex’s hotter, more experience father, then yes, I have moved on, and the grass really is more vibrant.
I bite back a smile, and as I shake my head, my phone buzzes in my hand, the vibration startling me out of my thoughts. Without checking the screen, I know who it is.
“Hey. You know the rules,” Shelby scolds playfully, pointing to the basket.
I scrunch my nose and give her an apologetic smile. “Actually, something’s come up. It’s a message from my boss’s boss.” Technically not a lie. “I hate to ditch early, but I think I have to go.”