Page 50 of Formula Dreams
The song winds to an end and we come to a slow stop.Carlos holds me close, looking down at me with soft eyes.“Mission accomplished.”
“You’re the best of friends,” I say, leaning in to kiss his cheek.“Now… I’ve got to use the restroom.I’ll catch up with you after.”
I walk away from Carlos, back straight, head held high.If I caused Ronan a moment of discomfort, then that’s a podium finish in my book.
CHAPTER 14
Ronan
“It would bemy honor.”
The way Carlos said those words to Francesca after she asked him to dance had me grinding my teeth.All debonair and full of genuine affection.
The words hit me like a jab to the ribs.My teeth clenched as he lead her toward the dance floor.The back of her gown is nonexistent, and I know exactly how soft and smooth her skin is there.The sight of them walking off together twisted my gut—an ugly ball of fury expansively growing by the minute.
I shouldn’t care.Not when I showed up with Amelia on my arm, smiling for the cameras like I meant it.The truth is, I committed to bringing her to this event weeks ago.Before I knew what it would be like to have Francesca’s breath against my neck, her body under mine.
Still, watching her laugh as Carlos talks, letting him guide her with that easy, familiar touch—it’s enough to curl my hands into fists.
Amelia’s voice drifts in from beside me, some polite comment to Posey, but it’s background noise.All I can focus on is the slow sway of Francesca’s hips and the way Carlos’s hand settles a little too low on her back.
Guilt prickles—because yes, I brought another woman here.It’s an untenable situation.I’m standing here, arm loosely around Ameila’s waist as she’s smiles at something Posey just said, champagne sweating in my hand—but all I see is Francesca.The slow turn of her body in Carlos’s arms.The way her head tilts toward him like they’re sharing a private joke.His mouth near her ear.
My pulse spikes, heat flooding my chest.I want to rip him away from her.Flatten him into the parquet.My fingers flex against the glass because if I don’t hold on tightly, I’ll do it.
And yeah, I know.Hypocrite of the year.But Francesca doesn’t know what I know—that Amelia’s no one special.We see each other sometimes, usually when one of us needs a plus-one for an event such as this.We sleep together occasionally, sure, but there’s no pretense.No expectation.And there’s sure as hell no way that’s happening tonight.Not after last night with Francesca.
But she doesn’t know that either.All she sees is me walking out of her bed in the middle of the night and into this ballroom hours later with another woman.
Carlos’s hand moves again—too low.Francesca smiles and leans in, and my vision tunnels.I’m about two seconds from walking over there and rearranging his teeth when the song ends.
She kisses his cheek, quick and light, and then she turns and walks toward the edge of the dance floor.Away from him.Away from me.
I drain the rest of my champagne in one swallow, shove the glass at Amelia without meeting her eyes.“Hold this,” I say, already moving.
Francesca weaves through the crowd, confident and graceful at the same time.She slips into the side corridor toward the restrooms, and I follow without hesitation.
They’re the gender-neutral kind—single occupancy, lockable doors, and she’s stepping into one when I catch up.I push inside right behind her, hear her gasp of surprise and click the latch before she can react.
Francesca whips around, eyes wide.“What the hell are you doing?”
I take a second—just one—to look at her.The sweep of her hair, the curve of her breasts, the fire in her eyes.Her back is to the large mirror over the vanity and all that golden bare skin from neck to the top of her butt mocks me.She’s gorgeous in her racing gear, but like this?Full-glam Francesca is lethal.And tonight, that weapon is aimed right at me.
“We need to talk,” I say.
“I can’t believe you followed me in here,” she snarls while crossing her arms over her chest, which plumps up her breasts and draws my eye.“Shouldn’t you be back with your date?”
The worddatedrips with disdain and my eyes snap back to hers.I can take Francesca’s anger, but I can’t have her disgust.I can’t come back from that.
So I deflect.“What about you and Carlos?”
Francesca frowns, and fuck if she doesn’t look genuinely confused.“Carlos?We’re just friends.”
“His hands near your ass didn’t look like just friends to me,” I snap.
Her eyes sparkle with vindication.“Ahhh… you’re the one who’s jealous.”
I scoff.“Please… what’s to be jealous of?”
