Page 40 of Cross the Line
Today, we’ve finally been reunited. We’re sitting in the Argonaut motorhome set up at the Montreal circuit and chatting over breakfast. I have to leave for a track walk, a meet and greet and a strategy meeting soon, but I’m savouring this time. It’s a typical packed Thursday, made even busier by the dinner I’m set to attend tonight for one of our sponsors. Sadly, I haven’t figured a way out of it just yet.
‘What are the people saying today?’ I ask Willow as I pick at the scrambled eggs Mark set in front of me.
She keeps her head down as she scrolls through her phone, a hint of a pleased smirk tugging up the corners of her glossy lips. ‘That your smile is the eighth wonder of the world.’
‘Solid.’
I shouldn’t have missed her as much as I did, but the week apart felt more like a month. And, admittedly, like a little part of me was missing the whole time. She’s only been back in my life for a matter of weeks, and yet she’s managed to brush the edges of my every thought. By the time we go our separate ways at the end of the summer, I’m worried she’ll have taken over completely.
It’s part of the reason I left San Diego early. Sure, I needed time on the sim and to talk with the crew at the factory in Dallas, but it wasn’t as pressing as I led Willow to believe. I could have stayed in our hometown for at least a few more days, but I had to get out of there, especially after my mother literally laughed in my face when I told her nothing would ever happen between Willow and me. Then I compounded my fuckups when I spotted the stuffed animal I won for Willow when we were kids.
The idea that she’d kept the toy –Ellie– beside her bed for so long, a visual confirmation of her having been into me for years, made something snap in my mind. And when she pressed herself against me to get the plush elephant back . . . Fuck, it’s a miracle all I did was toss her on the bed and blurt something about how her obsession wasn’t one-sided, because all I wanted was to haul her in and kiss her until she was begging for more.
I tried to play it off and get back to the matter at hand – the work she was doing for me – but I’d already breached our agreement. Willow, thankfully, let it slide. Probably because she didn’t want to get into it. What could she have said after that anyway? I knew the rules, and I flat-out ignored them. Scolding me for breaking them wouldn’t have changed anything.
We’re back to the easy laughs today, like everything last week has been forgotten. It helps that we have a buffer again. Chava sits across from us, scrolling through my social pages as well and reading out his favourite comments as he stumbles upon them.
Even Mark is taking part. He takes Chava’s phone and snickers before he reads aloud, ‘“Chlamydia or not, I’d still ride him like those waves.”’ His eyes slide to me. ‘Seems like your prospects are looking up, man. We might finally get you laid again.’
I do my best not to glance in Willow’s direction as I force out a laugh. ‘My chances might be better once people stop mentioning me and STDs in the same sentence.’
‘We’ll get you there,’ Willow promises, and I finally dare to look over at her. She’s perfectly composed, like Mark’s comment hasn’t ruffled her in the same way it’s ruffled me. ‘To quote one of the comments I read earlier, you’ll be drowning in pussy again soon.’
Orange juice sprays from Chava’s mouth, coating the table in front of him. Wincing, I use my napkin to wipe a few stray droplets off my arm.
‘JesusChrist, Willow.’ His blasphemy is a cross between a cough and a laugh. ‘I didn’t realize you even knew that word.’
She shrugs, grinning back at him. The twinkle in her dark eyes has my uniform shorts feeling tighter. ‘I know a lot of words.’
I bet she does. And, fuck, if fantasies of her legs wrapped around my waist and her lips at my ear while she whispers them don’t assault me right there in front of everyone.
I stand abruptly, sidestepping from my chair to hide my hopefully-not-obvious semi. ‘Lost track of time,’ I announce when confused expressions greet me. ‘Gotta pay Patsy a visit. See if she finally put me in the drivers’ press conference. Maybe today’s the day she’ll give me the okay to tell reporters that Nathaniel’s a cun—’ I cut short, remembering where I am and who could be listening. ‘A sweet, darling, beautiful boy whom I respectverymuch.’
‘Uh-huh,’ Chava utters as Mark snorts.
Willow’s frowning as she looks from me to Mark to Chava and back again. It’s probably better that she doesn’t fully understand the hatred I have for my teammate anyway. I don’t need that inadvertently bleeding into the things she posts.
Besides, for her, I like to stick to being positive Dev. Fixer Dev. Always looking on the bright side Dev. She doesn’t need to see the undercurrent of darkness and discontent that runs through me. I don’t want to slip the rose-tinted glasses from her pretty eyes yet.
But if Argonaut continues to screw me over, she and the rest of the world may see more than they bargained for soon enough.
——
Whoever said the world of Formula 1 is nonstop thrills and entertainment was a bald-faced liar.
‘If I fall asleep, make sure I don’t drop my champagne,’ I mumble to Mark, barely resisting the urge to slump against the small table we’re posted up at. Some sponsor events can be a good time, but this one is a snoozefest. Who would have thought Swiss watchmakers were soboring?
Mark is my plus-one tonight. If I can’t get both of them in, he and Chava take turns accompanying me. Though I might try to work Willow into that rotation soon. Is it a desperate move to get more time with her? Damn straight. Do I care? Not in the slightest.
Mark shoots me an amused glance. ‘As long as you flash that thing on your wrist as you do, I don’t think anyone will mind the mess.’
He’s probably right. I shake out my wrist so the cuff of my shirt rides up to show off the glinting timepiece. I gotta admit, the perks of this life are great sometimes. I’ll probably never have to pay for a watch again.
Unfortunately, one of the shittier parts of it is making their way straight toward me.
‘Incoming,’ Mark says from the corner of his mouth. ‘Don’t do anything stupid.’
My eyes lock on Buck and Nathaniel Decker, and I force a grin. It’s sharper than it should be. ‘I wouldnever.’
