Page 143 of Racing for Redemption
"A legacy." His eyes shine with conviction. "I want to be the driver who brought Colton Racing back from the brink. I want to stand on that top step, holding a Driver's Championship trophy with you, and the team celebrating below. I want to make your dad’s—your—team great again."
The sincerity in his voice catches me off guard. This isn't just ambition speaking—it's something deeper, more personal.
We sit on the sofa, and I pull the blanket over both our laps, the intimacy of the gesture hitting me hard. We've shared beds, showers, the most private parts of ourselves, yet this simple, domestic moment feels more revealing somehow.
"I never thought I'd say this," I admit, tracing the rim of my glass, "but I'm glad you were desperate enough to beg for that seat. The team needed someone like you."
William's eyes soften. "Just the team?"
The question hangs between us, loaded with everything we've been dancing around for months. This arrangement of ours—stolen nights, secret touches, the careful compartmentalization of Team Principal and driver versus whatever we become behind closed doors—has evolved into something I hadn't anticipated.
"No," I say quietly. "Not just the team."
He takes my glass, setting it alongside his on the coffee table. When he turns back, the intensity in his gaze makes my breath catch.
"What are we doing, Violet?" he asks, his voice low. "These past months—this isn't just sex anymore. Hasn't been for a while."
I swallow hard. "I know."
"Do you?" He finds my hand under the blanket. "Because sometimes, I wonder if I'm imagining things. The way you look at me when you think no one's watching. How you wear my watch hidden under your sleeve at races. How you've started messaging me in the middle of the night just to talk after Monaco."
Heat creeps up my neck. I hadn't realized I was so transparent.
"You're not imagining it," I admit. "But it's complicated."
"It's always complicated." He doesn't sound frustrated, just resigned. "I'm your driver. You're my boss. The paddock would have a field day if they knew. I'm not stupid."
"It's more than that," I say, needing him to understand. "Colton Racing is everything to me. It's my dad’s legacy. My whole life," I continue. "I've sacrificed everything for it. And now that things are finally turning around..."
"You're afraid," he finishes softly. "Afraid that if you let yourself feel this, really feel it, something will break."
Scared to death, more like. I stare at him, startled by his perception. "Yes."
He shifts closer, his thigh pressing against mine. "Tell me what you're most afraid of. Just say it. Out loud. I'm not gonna judge you."
The rain hammers against the windows, creating a cocoon of sound around us. In this moment, it feels like we're the only two people in London, maybe the world.
"That I'll lose focus," I admit, the words feeling like they're being pulled from somewhere deep inside me. "That I'll make decisions with my heart instead of my head. That people will say I only kept you because we're..." I gesture vaguely between us.
"Sleeping together?" he offers.
"More than that," I say quietly. "That's the problem."
William's expression softens. "And what if it's both? What if I'm good for the team and good for you? What if those things aren't mutually exclusive?"
I don't have an answer for that, at least not one I'm ready to voice.
William reaches up to brush a strand of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. The gesture is so tender, so achingly gentle, my breath hitches.
"I'm not asking for promises or public declarations. Hell, that's cheesy. I understand the position you're in." He cups my cheek, softly caressing it. "But I need you to know that I'm all in, Violet. Whatever this is between us, however complicated it gets, I'm here. For as long as you'll have me."
The raw honesty in his voice pulls at something deep inside me. This handsome, talented man who could have anyone, who has his whole career ahead of him, is sitting here telling me he wants me—all of me, not just the stolen moments between races.
"This is something I'm afraid to name," I confess, voice barely above a whisper. "Because once I do, there's no going back. And while I'm decisive in business… I'm not in my personal life."
William traces my jawline, his touch reverent. "I'm not asking you to name it. Just to feel it. To let yourself have this one thing that's just for you, not for the team, or your dad’s legacy."
I lean into his touch, closing my eyes briefly. When I open them, the vulnerability in his expression nearly undoes me.
