Page 44 of Hot Lap
Ah, shit. That lump is clogging my throat again.
"Thanks, Reece."
Another beat of silence. Then, with a low chuckle, he adds, "For the record? If you were dancing, I'd pay good money to see it."
I laugh. "Go focus on your race weekend, speed demon."
"Yes, ma'am." He’s quiet long enough that I assume he’s moved away.
I stay beside the door for a moment longer, heart pounding in a way that has nothing to do with dancing. I’m still clutching the little card.
Before I can move, he speaks again. "How was your meeting with Coy?"
I smile faintly, knowing exactly what he's really asking:Have you made a decision?
I slide down to sit on the carpet, back against the door. "It was good. He's solid. Straightforward."
"Yeah. That's Coy. He won’t sugar-coat things, but he’s also not cruel."
Another pause. There’s so much tension in the silence between us.
"And?" he finally says, so softly I almost miss it.
I tilt my head back against the door and close my eyes. "I need time, Reece."
His exhale is audible, a soft rush of relief and nerves all mixed together. "Good. Yeah, I mean, that's fair."
"I can't make a decision like this on a few hours of sleep and a hangover. That would be fucking dumb. I need to know you better to figure out if we’d work as a couple, you know?"
"Absolutely. I want you to know me, Maiken. Whatever it takes. However long it takes."
I trace a pattern on the carpet with my finger. "How exactly do we do that when we're living on different continents half the year?"
"We start here." His voice is steady now, more sure. "Let me date you, Maiken."
"Date me?"
"Yes, properly. Take you out. Spend time together. Dinners, events, walks, coffee — whatever you want. We can figure the rest out later."
"You realize we're already married, right?"
"I’d noticed that, yes. Doesn't mean we can't do it backwards, if you follow me?"
Another beat of silence stretches between us, but this time it's different, charged with possibility instead of uncertainty.
"Okay," I whisper. "Date me, Reece." Then louder, so there's no mistaking it: "Okay, then. Woo the shit outa me, Reece Pritchard."
He chuckles, the sound low and warm. "Name the time, honeybee."
Honeybee.I lean my head back against the door again. "What do you have in mind?"
He pauses, clearly thinking. "There's a sponsor dinner tonight. Small and low-key withnomedia. Nitro and Telco Italia people have been invited to join AetherX. Some reps from FuegoFrío will be there too. It's here at the hotel. Nothing flashy, just cocktail attire. Would you be up for that?"
It’s not exactly a candlelit dinner for two, but it's a start. It’ll give me a glimpse into his world, plus he said there’ll be no reporters.
But.
“Will Graham be there?”
