***
Exhaustion sank into my bones by the time Ale dropped me at Russell’s. Sore from a day of racing, I shuffled toward the house. Just as I stepped inside, my phone buzzed. Javi’s face lit up the screen—equal parts welcome and warning. Madrid was seven hours ahead; too late for him to be awake, even for me.
“Hola,” I said, bending to untie my sneakers.
“¿Qué pasa, tío?”
I smiled at the familiar greeting. “Just got home from Emerport.”
“How was the training?”
“It was okay.” I kicked off my shoes and leaned against the door, tempted to slide to the floor and stay there. “What’s up with you?”
“Well…” Javi hesitated. “Todo bien, tío. I just read some articles about your dad and wanted to check on you.”
Mierda.News traveled fast. I held still, listening. The house was quiet—empty, like I’d hoped. The last thing I needed was Mom or Russell overhearing. “I might email my father’s mechanic,” I admitted. “It makes no sense, Javi. Yeah, he highsided on a tough track, but that turn in Aragón wasn’t nearly as sharp as some in Emerport today. He would’ve been careful. No tiene sentido, tío. It doesn’t make sense at all.”
“You lose nothing by talking to Miguel,” Javi said. “Just…don’t obsess. If he knew something, he would’ve told you years ago.”
But what if he did know something? What if he’d been avoiding me for a reason?
I dragged a hand through my hair. “You’re right. I just want closure.” Even if, by now, getting it seemed impossible.
“I’d want that too. Tell me if he answers, okay? I’m gonna call it a day.”
“Thanks for calling.”
Javi hung up. As I slipped my phone into my pocket, faint noises reached my ears. Fuck. Someone was home. I headed upstairs but saw neither my mother nor Russell. Their bedroom door was closed, the light off. Kaia’s, though, was ajar.
I moved closer. She was on the floor, stretching to a slow song, her face angled toward the window. Her body was beautiful, and those skin-tight yoga pants were worse than the tiny shorts she’d worn the other day.
My gaze lingered on her back, slid down her waist to the curve of her hips, and my pulse kicked hard.
Shit. Icouldn’t just stand there like a creep. She was off-limits, and I was screwed, because it wasn’t only her body I liked.
I liked talking to her. I liked the way she laughed at my dumb jokes. I liked that she loved Spanish—because even this far from home, hearing her speak it made me feel like I wasn’t alone.
Balling my fists, I backed away as quietly as I could. In my room, I scrubbed my palms over my face, desperate to erase her image from my mind.
Heat spread through my veins as my heart hammered and my lungs begged for air.
“She’s still in high school, you idiot,” I muttered, eyes shut. “Russell’s her father.”
The age difference was nothing—barely two years. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was everything else. Her still being under his roof. Me living under it too. The line between us felt razor-thin, but crossing it would cut us both.
Kaia and I—it couldn’t happen.
And for my sanity, I couldn’t let myself imagine otherwise.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kaia
Neon signs and shuttered storefronts flickered past the cab’s windows as Mandy and I headed for Starlit, the mega-popular club downtown. Kyle from school had invited us—he knew the bouncer, so no cover charge.
Dean would be there, too. After blowing off the last party, I’d caved and agreed to go with Mandy tonight, even though I’d rather be at home reading.
I turned to her in the backseat. “Enough makeup?”
