Page 96 of Racing for Redemption
We wash quickly after that, though William pauses when I reach for the shampoo.
“Let me,” he offers, taking the bottle from my hands.
“You want to wash my hair?”
“Least I can do,” he says, squeezing shampoo into his palm. “I did make you sweat quite a bit.”
His fingers in my hair are gentle, massaging my scalp with surprising skill. I close my eyes, enjoying the simple pleasure of being cared for. It’s been so long since anyone touched me withsuch attention, such focus on my comfort rather than their own desire.
When I step out of the shower, I dry off quickly and slip into my pajamas. William follows with a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair dripping onto his shoulders. He comes up behind me at the sink, softly wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing a kiss to my neck.
“You’re adorable,” he murmurs, nuzzling the spot below my ear. Then, he sighs with contentment.
I laugh softly. “And you’re getting my pajamas wet.”
“Sorry, boss.” He releases me, reaching for a second towel to dry his hair.
I find him a pair of plain boxer shorts in the hotel amenities drawer—generic but serviceable. He pulls them on while I dim the lights and climb into bed, exhaustion suddenly taking over.
William watches me for a moment before joining me, sliding under the covers and immediately pulling me into his arms. His skin is warm against mine through the thin fabric of my pajamas. The furnace I felt when he side-hugged me at that concert wasn't just my imagination. He's really cozy. He traces patterns on my arm, feather-light touches that make me shiver.
“So,” he says after a moment, his voice rumbling in his chest beneath my ear. “All of that was to get it out of our systems, but…” He pauses, tensing slightly. “I wouldn’t mind it happening again.”
I turn to look at him, his expression serious in the dim light.
“You're a busy woman. I know what you're going to say. Maybe getting attached is not your thing. And your main focus is having the team back on top, so I don't want to get in the way of that." He caresses my cheek with his thumb, small circles making my skin become increasingly warmer. He continues. “But—”
“You want more?” I interrupt, needing to clarify.
He smiles softly. "I do. But on your terms. If you want no strings attached, I can deal with that. If you want something more serious, I'm your man." His eyes search mine. “I’ll agree to anything you want if it means being closer to you,” he says finally. “If it means sharing a connection that isn’t awkward—just slightly forbidden. If it means seeing you like this: beautiful, genuine and soft. Mine in these stolen moments.”
I consider his words carefully. The sensible part of me knows I should end this now, before it complicates everything. Indeed, work is a priority, and I have so many things on my plate that it’s a surprise I haven't gone crazy yet. But the part of me that felt alive for the first time in years tonight isn’t ready to let go, even if there may be some consequences for him.
“William,” I say slowly, “I don’t want to hurt you. If this evolves into something more…” I trail off, unsure how to express my fears. “I’m not ready to commit to anything. My focus has to be on the team. I'm always traveling, I'm always in meetings. I barely have time—”
“I understand,” he replies, though something flickers in his eyes—hope, perhaps. “We can keep it casual. Indulge when we both want to, nopressure for more.”
“But we maintain our friendship,” I insist. “That’s important to me. I don't want this to ruin my first friendship in years."
“Of course.” He lightly traces my cheek. “And professionally, in the paddock, nothing changes.”
“Exactly. No one can know about this, William. It would be a scandal.”
“You’re really bossy, you know that?” he adds after a moment, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Part of my job description, you know?”
He laughs softly, pulling me closer and pressing a kiss to my forehead. He tightens his hold around me, and I nuzzle into his neck, breathing in his scent. He strokes his hand lazily up and down my back, and I relax into his touch.
This isn’t what I expected when I suggested getting our attraction “out of our systems.” But as sleep begins to claim me, William’s heartbeat steady beneath my ear, I can’t bring myself to regret it.
Whatever this is, whatever it becomes—it feels too good to stop now. Without the pressure of delivering points to the board, it seems I’m slowly, bit by bit, starting to want things.
Not for anyone else. For myself.
Chapter 26
Close enough to see, far enough to touch
