We’d have a betterchance not getting caught in a compromising position if we spent time at Rome’s house instead of mine, but the last three nights, he’s shown up on my doorstep, hours after leaving work for the day, with desperate kisses and rushed hands.
Instead of asking him what’s wrong, I give in to the pleading in his eyes and drift off to sleep with him running his fingers up and down my spine, only to meet up with him again the next morning at work.
The media is breathing down our necks. Not only are they curious to see if I’m in good health because of the last race, questioning Rome every other second, but this is also one of the first races of the season that my dad is present for.
Gia grabs onto my arm and pulls my attention to the paddock.
A beefy man has a microphone pointed in Rome’s direction, and I’m not sure what he’s asked, but if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under right now.
Rome’s lips pull back into a snarl, and the reporter quickly moves on to the next driver, who just so happens to be Beau.
“What is with him?” Gia asks. “Is he testy or is it just me?”
Rome stomps toward the private driver sectors, which thankfully are more than just a tented area like in some of the other races.
“I’m going to go figure it out. I’ll be back.”
I dart behind a few race trailers and head in the same direction as Rome. Once inside, I hurry past the door with Noah's name on it and slip inside the one next to it with Rome’s name.
He spins around angrily, until he sees it’s me.
“Hey,” I say softly. “Are you okay?”
His light eyes, usually soft for me, are hardened and icy. “I’m fine.”
I take a step toward him. “You don’t seem fine.”
The muscles along his jaw tighten, and he looks away. A heavy sigh leaves his mouth.
I’ve never seen him like this, and not only am I worried because he’s about to race, but I’m worried because there’s clearly something wrong.
I move right in front of him, and he peers down at me with the same worry line in between his eyebrows. “Are you nervous?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
I purse my lips. “You’re tense.” I bounce my eyes back and forth between his and give him a flirty smile. “I can help.”
My eager hands move to his race suit bundled around his waist. I start to push it down, but Rome’s fingers wrap around my wrists.
“No,” he snips. “Not here.”
I jerk away. “What?”
His jaw tightens again, and he won’t look me in the eye.
“What is wrong with you?” I ask. “You’re not acting like yourself.”
He drags a hand down his face and scoffs. “I just need to be alone.”
Ouch.
The rejection cuts deep, and I instinctively step backward. Confusion fills my head with all sorts of questions, but I bite the inside of my cheek to keep them on the inside.
This isn’t the time.
We aren’t supposed to do this here, and I should have known better.
“Okay.” I do my best to keep my voice steady and turn around.
