“Just water.”
He signaled the waiter, ordering water for me and something with lime for himself. When the waiter left, he stretched out on his lounger, arms folded behind his head, the picture of relaxation.
“See? No paparazzi, no autograph hunters. Just normal people enjoying the sun.”
I settled back, trying to release the tension from my shoulders. “It’s only been five minutes.”
But for all the sunlight and noise, I couldn’t shake the prickle between my shoulder blades. A sensation like someone's gaze brushed the back of my neck.
I scanned the rows of deck chairs, the glass balustrades, the glitter of skyscrapers beyond, but no one was looking. At least, not that I could see.
A shadow flickered in the corner of my eye, gone before I could pinpoint its source. My pulse kicked, stupidly loud in my ears.
“Relax,” Griffin murmured. “You’re in a five-star hotel, not a spy thriller.”
“Easy for you to say,” I said, scanning the decks one last time. “You’re not the one being stared at.”
“Pretty sure if anyone’s staring, it’s because you showed up looking like that.”
“Charming,” I muttered, forcing myself to settle back.
Griffin turned his head toward me, expression hidden behind his sunglasses. “Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?”
“Has anyone ever told you that you don’t worry enough?”
He laughed. “Daily. Usually its Liam. Sometimes its Al during races.”
The waiter returned with our drinks. I took a sip of water, the coolness a blessed relief against the heat.
“Speaking of races,” I said, “nervous about tomorrow?”
Griffin shrugged. “Qualifying’s the bigger hurdle. Singapore’s all about grid position.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.” He took a long drink. “I don’t do pre-race jitters. Bad for the image.”
I studied him, seeing past the casual dismissal to the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers tapped against his glass.
“Right. Because image is everything.”
“In this business? Yeah, it is.” He set his drink down. “Julian should have taught you that by now.”
“He taught me lots of things.” I turned my face toward the sun, closing my eyes. “Mostly how to recognize bullshit when I hear it.”
Griffin chuckled. “And here I thought we were having a nice moment.”
“We were. Then you started lying.”
Silence stretched between us, broken only by the gentle splash of water from the pool and the distant hum of the city below. I felt rather than saw him shift, turning more fully toward me.
“Fine,” he said, voice lower. “I’m always nervous before a race. Anyone who says they aren’t is either lying or stupid.”
I opened my eyes, surprised by the admission. “Even after all these years?”
“Especially after all these years.” He took off his sunglasses, revealing eyes that were more serious than I’d expected. “More to lose now. More people counting on me.”
The vulnerability in his voice caught me off guard.
