Yes, Layla was driving. But if I hadn’t insisted we stay out later, if I hadn’t distracted her with my antics...
My fist tightens around the phone and I swallow down the rising chill.
Let it go. Let it go and call Autumn back. Focus on work and when it’s done, take Olivia home and show her just how much you’ve enjoyed today, be honest with her about how you feel.
I dial Autumn’s number and deal with her call, her concerns, as readily as if I were a machine because I’ve done this so many times over. But getting to enjoy Olivia’s zest for life is something so new and tantalising and I know I’m not going to be able to give her up when this job is over.
I want this to continue long past our working relationship. I want this to be official. No more blurring of lines. I want this woman to be mine and vice versa. Even now, as I talk details with Autumn, I’m planning tonight’s conversation. I almost laugh. I haven’t asked a girl out since I was in school. To be doing it now...
But then Olivia is fiercely independent. A point she has made to me several times over. I know it’s a risk to play my hand, but what choice do I have? Say nothing and let this end with the job? Not an option. I’d rather regret telling her than walk away and always wonder.
I trace their progress on the track as I continue my conversation with Autumn. I watch as they pull into the pitstop, jumping out, a prancing Olivia racing around to the driver’s seat.
She’s in her element and I feel her joy across the field, feel it ease away all the stress from the morning, when I woke knowing the plans for the day and when I first laid eyes on the track and the speed at which people drive...
I speak to Autumn as I watch the car speed off, the engine rumbling through the ground beneath me, getting faster and faster. I can’t even begin to guess at its speed, but it looks faster than Harry. I keep watching, every corner, every angle. Definitely faster than Harry. Definitely too fast. It’s stupid.
What the hell is she trying to do? Prove a point? Show me that she’s just as talented as a man again, if not more so...but seriously...?
And I get it. I get why she pushes herself so hard, stifled by the men that have come before me, but now she doesn’t need to. Not for me. Not with me.
I start to walk towards the track as the back end of the car does a rapid wobble before righting again, but my heart is already in my mouth, my stride picking up as my vision blurs at the edges.
‘Valentine—Valentine, are you there?’
‘Yes. Yes, I’m here.’ But what the hell is she doing? She’s going too fast. Way too fast for that corner. She hits it and I watch as the back end slips out, but this time it doesn’t recover and everything seems to slow right down—my breathing, the car, the dust building around it. Just like the night of the accident. The car spins and spins.
Fucking hell, Olivia.
I’m running, my mobile stuffed into my pocket as the car disappears amidst the cloud of dirt, the screeching tyres crippling me. It comes to a final stop, deathly quiet. No collision. No accident. But hell, it could have been, and my heart is racing, my eyes wide and unblinking as I race straight for her.
The doors open and she clambers out, laughing. She’s fucking laughing.
‘I’m so sorry, Harry!’
Fuck Harry, what about me?
‘Are you okay?’ My voice roars through the brake dust, overtaking her laughter, which quickly cuts.
‘Of course I’m okay. I was always okay.’
My head is shaking, my body too as my mind torments me with the worst that could have happened.
I grip her upper arms. ‘What the hell are you playing at?’
She looks up at me, her brows raised to the heavens. ‘I beg your pardon.’
I squeeze my eyes shut, open them again. ‘Can you quit playing devil’s advocate with your life for just one second?’
‘What on earth are you talking about? I lost control of the back end, that’s all.’
I’m shaking so much my teeth are chattering and I grit them together, breathe through my nose.
‘That’s all? And what if you were out on the road with other drivers and you went and did the same?’
‘I think you’re missing the point of a track day, Valentine.’ She looks to Harry, who is standing in the wings and I know his expression is one of What the fuck? But I don’t care. All I care about is her. What if she really does have a death wish? What if those concerns truly are justified?
‘I don’t give a fuck about the track day, Olivia,’ I say through gritted teeth. ‘I give a fuck about you.’
She eyes me curiously. ‘You do?’
‘Yes.’ It’s so vehement, I’m sure she must get it. She must understand as deeply as I do that I’ve fallen in love with her. Watching that car spin out, feeling the old collide with the new, I know I love her.
‘Then what the hell is your problem? Today’s been fun. That last drive was fun.’
‘That last drive?’ I stare at her incredulously. ‘The whole spinning out?’
‘Hell, yes. Valentine, we’re on a private track, only my car on the road. I was always safe.’
‘Like you were in the Bugatti?’
She’s shaking her head at me, her mouth slack. She can’t defend her position, and neither can she convince me that this is okay.
‘We’re leaving. I’m taking you home.’ I reach for her and she backs away. I hear my words coming back at me. We’re leaving. I’m taking you home. It’s how Nathan would have treated her. How her father would have. But it’s not about that. It’s about my past and the worst that can happen. It’s about
