Page 88 of Formula Dreams
I blink.“So… you flew here to talk to me?”
“Seems like it,” he drawls.
“But,” I say, pondering the implications as I realize what day it is.“You shouldn’t be here.Monaco is in three days.You have free practice tomorrow.”
“Monaco can wait.”He crosses the patio toward me, the sun catching in his hair, his stride purposeful and unyielding.“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
“You’re insane.”My voice cracks, heat flooding my face.“You’re supposed to be preparing for the race.”
An event that could potentially kill him, and I shudder at the thought.
“I told Crown Velocity if I’m not back by tomorrow morning, I’m not racing.”He stops a foot from me, eyes roaming over my face like he’s trying to figure me out.“So, unless you want Harley Patrick to have an aneurysm, putting this sport down one very capable woman, you’re going to have to pack your bags and come back with me.”
I gasp at his manipulation.“Are you crazy?”
“Maybe a little,” he says softly, rubbing a hand over his neck.
For a moment, we stare at each other.It hurts how much I want to reach for him, but I don’t.Can’t.
He breaks the silence.“What are you doing, Francesca?”
I look around wildly, because… I’m just standing here.
“You’re running from boogeymen,” he continues.“Phantoms that aren’t real.”
“Carlos dying was real,” I exclaim, incensed he’d make light of it.
“That’s right,” he says with a nod.“But we grieve, we process, and we move on.This isn’t news to you.You know how dangerous this sport is.You know it’s a risk.Hell, you put yourself in that danger every time you get out on the track, so I ask again… what are you doing?This is probably the most un-Francesca-like thing I’ve ever seen.”
For one wild and insane moment, I honestly have no clue what I’m doing.All the reasons that brought me here have been shredded by his logic.Yes, I know the risks and I have always voluntarily submitted to them.
“It’s different,” I say in a small voice.
“No, it’s not.It is what it is.Now I ask again, what are you doing?”
I huff out my frustration.“I’m protecting myself, okay?”The words rip out of me, ragged.
Ronan frowns.“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if it hurt this bad to lose Carlos, I won’t survive losing you.”
He blinks in surprise, taking a stunned step forward with arms open.
I shake my head and step back.“Don’t you get it?If I keep racing, if I keep loving you, it’s only a matter of time before I’m back in that hospital corridor, watching someone tell me you’re gone.”
His jaw works, eyes blazing.“I know you think I don’t get it, but I do.I carry that same fear when it comes to you.”
The truth of that punches clear through me.“You do?”
“Of course, I do.Death is always real in our line of work.Always.But walking away from me won’t change that—it’ll just destroy us both right now instead of later.”
Tears burn my eyes.“I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.”He steps closer, his voice rough and unshakable, and I let him put his arms around me.“Because you love me.You wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t.You’re running because it’s safer than feeling this.But I’m not letting you, because I love you, Francesca.And Iknowyou love me.I can see it in every move you’ve made since the crash.You’re walking away from the sport because of me.I won’t let you throw away everything because of fear.If it takes me weeks or months to get through this wall you’ve put up, I’m going to do it.”
His words hit me like a physical blow.The fight drains out of me, leaving me trembling, hollow.“I don’t know how,” I whisper.
Ronan’s hands frame my face.“I promise we’ll figure it out together.But you cannot stay holed up here.You’re coming with me to Monaco.”
