Page 91 of Coming in Hot

I wonder if Klaus told her about the kiss? I know they’re close, but I can’t imagine him confessing something so personal. He’d think that terribly awkward. In the past three weeks since our spontaneous (and oh my God,so incredible) lip-lock in the car, I can’t stop thinking about it. Obviously I wish we could make it work. But there are massively complicating variables.

I’d have to feel confident he’s really learned from the blowup inHungary. Months of lies and evasions, followed by the painstakingly engineered insult of the USB drive “intel”? It still makes my teeth grit with indignation when I think of it.

I do trust that his remorse is genuine, and I also believe he thought he was “protecting” me, in his incredibly dumb way. But part of me worries—especially with the heightened safety concerns inherent to adding a child to the equation—that he could easily fall back on that sort of crap again in the future.

Phaedra has argued in his favor. She reminded me that when her father was terminally ill and the transition of power within Emerald F1 was in question, Klaus could’ve pressed Mo for a buyout, taking total control rather than just his 40 percent stake in the team. Instead, he was the first person to accept—more likeembrace—the idea of Phaedra as team owner.

All the years she’s worked as a race engineer in a male-dominated field, taking flak not only on social media but also straight to her face by a few sexist idiots on the team, Klaus has staunchly defended her. He’s responsible for Emerald being one of the most diverse teams in the sport.

So. Let’s say I take a chance on Klaus Franke 2.0, the absolutely-not-patronizing upgrade version. That brings us to the second problem: How would it work logistically, being a couple? Long-distance romance is miserable. But if I move to Europe, I wouldn’t have the consistent, daily support system of Auntie Min and Sherri and Jason.

Even imagining I’m a work-from-home mom, writing books on a Greek island, I’ve given up the stability of a nice little family unit in Kentucky for life with a grouchy housekeeper who hates me and Klaus traveling for nine months of every year.

Realistically, it wouldn’t be much more than the time he’ll spend with our daughter visiting Kentucky here and there. It’s better to let him go back to being the freewheeling bachelor who used to pick up a new one-night “lady friend” at every grand prix location.

And… maybe someday I’ll meet someone who’d be a great stepfather, a man who’s home every night—there for Halloween trick-or-treating and parent-teacher conferences.

Rather than giving me optimism for the future, the thought of a relationship with someone else droops over me like a heavy storm cloud. But I have to be realistic.

After Klaus’s visit to my hometown was over—once he was gone and I could think clearly, rather than existing in a fog of longing—I gave myself a stern talking-to about our prospects and the insurmountable obstacles.

I blow an impatient raspberry noise. “How Ifeelabout Klaus is irrelevant. Am I a little mopey that I won’t be jet-setting to the GPs with my bestie next year, flashing my press pass and rubbing elbows with the ‘beautiful people’? Sure. Am I always gonna be kind of halfway in love with him?Ugh, yes.But I’m—”

“You’re being deliberately vague. Dammit, be straight with me, woman!”

“I said I’m still in love with him!” I snap. “Are you trying to rub it in?”

She holds up a hand. “Jesusfuckingjones, don’t go ballistic.” A minute of tense silence passes. “I can’t help noticing your phrasing went from ‘kinda halfway in love’ to ‘I’m still in love with him.’ Don’t be a dipshit like I was with Cosmin last year.” She flashes an impish grin. “As the maid of honor and best man at my weddingnext week, you and Klaus will be fully expected to get frisky and make out in a coat closet.”

I turn slowly, eyes wide.

“A little casual thing in Gibraltar,” Phae goes on. “It’s why I lobbied so hard for you to come to the last race. Cos and I are making this shit official. A year’s engagement is enough for me to have concluded that Formula Fuckboy is gonna make a great husband.”

“Eeeee! Oh my God, Phae… I’m so happy for you guys.” I dance my feet giddily in the footwell. “Hey, maybe our kids’ll be besties like you and me.”

She shoots a raised eyebrow my way. “That’s sweet, but hells to the nope. We don’t want babies. Cos gets enough happiness from the kids at Vlasia House, and we spend a lot of time there. The Ardelean Foundation his sister runs—and the children’s home—have expanded this year. Vlasia House has more than a hundred kids now. Cosmin says he’s aiming for World Driver’s Champion specifically so they can build asecondchildren’s home at another location with the sixteen mil he’d get as a bonus.”

“That’s very cool. And it makes sense that you guys aren’t planning on kids.” My mind flashes to Klaus. “This sport is so demanding with all the travel and pressure, it’s probably not conducive to family life.” I chew at my lower lip. “I mean, that’s exactly why it’s better that Klaus and I aren’t going to be a thing.”

Phaedra’s look is sly. “Don’t speak too soon, chickie. There’s no telling what’s around the corner. Something could happen to challenge those assumptions.”

Wednesday morning, I’m hoping to hang out with Phae all day, but before this final race of the year, her duties seem to have compounded exponentially. She’s running around to meetings and taking calls right and left.

We finally manage to carve out a free hour together. Over a spread of room-service snacks, I try to make her look at white dresses online that have quick shipping and would work for a wedding, and she throws a very on-brand tantrum.

“If you don’t stop insisting on some stupid floofy-ass gown,” she growls, “I swear to God, I will show up at my own wedding dressed as a hot dog.”

I pull a face. “I wish I could call your bluff, but you’d one hundred percent do it just to spite me.”

“Damned straight I would. And Cos doesnotexpect me to wear a dress. He knows me better than that.”

“I nagged you into a dress for that party in Sochi, and you looked amazing.” I clap my hands together in prayer. “Please don’t wear a math T-shirt and jeans. For me?”

After more pleading, I get her to agree on a skirt to go with the gauzy white shirt and tuxedo jacket she already owns—she was wearing them when Cosmin proposed—and the rest of our hangout is stress-free… aside from her still teasing me about Klaus.

I ran into him this morning as I went down to the hotel’s gym to speed-walk on the treadmill and do some weights. The elevator doors opened and there he was inside. I don’t think it was lost on either of us that the last time we were in this exact elevatortogether, two years ago, we didn’t know each other’s names and were hustling up to his suite with the unspoken-yet-clear intention of tearing each other’s clothes off.

As we made conversation on the descent this morning, the way Klaus leaned on the elevator’s railing and studied me provocatively—wearing that damned sexy smirk, eyes dark as sin—must have been intentional, taunting me with the memory of how good we are together. The night we met he had that same pose, and I remember wondering why he wasn’t kissing me, since we were alone in the elevator.

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