“Sky,” I gasp into his mouth as I come, and he plants himself deep. He groans as he follows me over the edge.
King rolls us again, and I cling to him.
“Tell me about how you met Manny and Eric,” I murmur minutes later when we catch our breath, the room still mostly dark.
“Manny and I grew up together,” he says. “Went to high school together, joined the Marines together.”
“And Eric?”
“Eric was in the army,” he explains. “Our units crossed paths on an op, and he saved my life.”
“King—”
“It’s not dramatic or anything like that,fresa. We bonded. When he got out, I offered him a job.”
I drift back to sleep, safely ensconced in his strong arms, and when I wake up in the morning, I’m all alone again.
King is gone.
Chapter 13
A long goddamn time
Three weeks later
Tall Pines, Texas
“Today was a great victory,” my dad says from the stage. “Thank you for letting me leave on a high note.”
The crowd goes wild. Fans cheer and cry. Today was his last race on the circuit before he retires. He had planned it all out. Ending with a race in East Texas, the one that was the first race he won all those years ago.
Bobby and I accompanied him as representatives of DHR. He called us the future of racing. And even though I wasn’t racing today, it was fun to be a part of the entourage for the great Adrian Malone one more time. Candy, who is having a hard time with her pregnancy, stayed home.
And he won!
Tonight, we’re celebrating in a tavern not far from here. Dad swears it has sawdust floors and a live band every night. Or at least it did years ago.
But now, we’re opening champagne on the big stage after the race, because my dad won the last race of his career. The bottles pop, and champagne sprays all over Dad as he throws his head back and laughs.
We head back to the hotel to change for the evening. King, Manny, and Eric have traveled with me to Texas for the race. Manny is off duty though; his family is nearby the race location, so he gets to spend the trip with them. Tonight, he’s bringing his wife, Marisol, to join us. He’s been in a great mood being back here.
King has not.
I shower off the sticky champagne from the race and let my hair dry in long, natural waves around my face. I apply soft makeup in shimmery pinks and golds and swipe a soft-pink gloss over my lips. This is the way I prefer to wear my makeup. The dramatic looks from the photoshoots are fun, but they also aren’t really me, and something you learn when your mom is a famous fashion model is that you find your own style and you own it. This one is mine.
I pull on a pair of light-pink lace panties and then drop a spaghetti strap sundress over my head in white with little pink and yellow flowers all over it. It’s so hot in Texas, even at night, that I couldn’t stand the thought of wearing jeans or, God forbid, my DHR jacket.
I slip my diamond studs through my ears and slide my feet into leather sandals before grabbing my hobo bag from the desk in my hotel room. And speaking of this hotel, we’re all stacked together. DHR is all on one floor, both sides of the hall. The rooms are tight, and the walls are thin. I know without a doubt that I will be sleeping alone tonight. After the explosion, King and I did not go back to the close way we were living while he was protecting me, but he does come to me every night. We don’t speak; we have sex and then fall asleep, and he is always, always gone by morning.
It hurts, but I can’t deny that I’ve decided to take what he’ll give me, and I will deal with the fallout when he’s gone. And he will be gone sooner or later. He’s made it abundantly clear that staying in San Diego for any reason does not appeal to him in any way.
But I also need him in a way I have never needed another man before. He’s a part of me now, and there’s no going back. So even though I can’t keep him, I’ll take what he’s willing to give me, because that is better than nothing at all.
I’m not a doormat. It seems like I am right now, but this is a conscious decision to exist within the boundaries that he has erected, and afterward, I’ll move on with my life. Maybe I’ll get married and start a family, or maybe I’ll be the badass owner of DHR and never settle down. I don’t have a crystal ball that tells the future. Only time will tell.
I open the door to my room, and Eric is standing there waiting for me. His handsome face is now marked with a scar over his left eye that travels down to his cheekbone. He’s still one of the most good-looking people I have ever met, with his black hair and violet eyes, traits he’s told me recently his entire family share. The scar only makes him more interesting to look at, but I will always know he got it because of me and the danger I put him in.
“You look like a girl,” he blurts.
