Her throat bobbed. “How can you be so sure?”
A humorless chuckle left me. “Because he already played that card. The second Hazel showed up, my career was on borrowed time.” My fingers tightened on her arms, voice steadier now, colder. “You think I don’t hear them whispering? That I don’t see the way the team watches me like I’m already slipping? Like I’m not worth the investment?”
“That’s not true.”
“People who rock the boat don’t last long at Aedris.” I smiled, swiping a finger across her kiss-swollen lips. “I’m rocking it so damn hard the water’s coming over the sides.”
“Then stop it.” She shook her head, looking so damn adorable in her naivety. “I’m not worth losing your seat.”
Something sharp stabbed at me, like brakes locking at full speed.
She actually believed that. That I’d choose a fucking team over her.
My hand cupped her jaw, thumb tracing the delicate slope of her cheekbone. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“Griff—”
“No.” I edged closer, tipping her chin up until those dark eyes locked on mine. “You think I’m worried about losing a contract in a team that prioritizes me less and less each year when I could have you instead?”
Her breath stuttered and my fingers drifted lower again, brushing the smooth column of her throat, the quick pulse beneath my touch. Each heartbeat like a countdown to the moment she’d either run or stay.
“Do you really think Julian Carter is the only man in this sport who’d put me in a car? That Aedris is the only team that would kill to have me?”
She stared up at me, lashes damp, lips parted like she wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words.
“I know exactly who I am, Vi. I know exactly how good I am.”
A sad smile tugged at my lips, and her hand rose to brush my cheek. The first time she’d reached for me without hesitation, without that practiced restraint. The gesture knocked me off-balance more than any corner ever could.
“I might not have won a world championship in a couple of years, but with the right car, I can still win.”
Truth was, I’d been neck and neck with Callaghan all season and if Julian hadn’t screwed me over in Singapore, I might have managed to beat him.
“I can walk into any team on this grid and get a seat tomorrow.”
We’d left it late, but Dominic managed to find me multiple offers. Turned out, my career wasn’t as dead in the water as Julian had tried to make me believe in the last few years. On some level I’d known that. I was only twenty-eight and some drivers lasted past forty, but that knowledge hadn’t stopped his backhanded remarks from sinking their teeth into my ego.
“But tell me,” I ducked my head, and forced her to stare into my eyes, “where the fuck am I supposed to find another you?”
A tear slipped free, streaking down her cheek.
I caught it with my thumb, tilting her chin up, forcing her to stay with me.
“You are worth it, Princess.” My jaw flexed, words thick in my throat. “More than racing, more than my fucking career, more than anything I’ve ever given a shit about before.”
Her breath hitched.
“I’ve never wanted anything like this,” I murmured. “Never needed something the way I need you.”
Her fingers curled into my shirt, tight, shaking. Her mouth opened and I kissed her before she could tell me I was wrong.
Slow.
Certain.
A promise.
And when she kissed me back, I knew I had her.
