Funny. I was wishing the opposite, because watching her drive like this is mind-blowingly hot.
Van clicks a few buttons on the computer, and sure enough, it improves things and completely derails my recommendations.
I can thank my father and the rest of Pierce Racing for that.
After she finishes, she jumps out of the sim and stares directly at me. I stay neutral, each muscle on my face steady and unreadable.
Nothing needs to be said.
She knows she won this one.
“Hey.” Van stands up from the computer, his hands digging into his pockets. “I need a favor.”
Tessa’s shoulders drop. “Vivi?”
He rubs at his neck, something I do when I’m stressed too. “Yeah.”
The angry lines on her forehead smooth, her expression softening. “I'll go get her. We’re done here anyway.”
Van’s eyebrows dip. “You are? I was going to stay and work out some kinks in exchange for your help with Vivian.”
Tessa shoots me a scornful look, and I know she’s about to throw me under the bus, so I quickly beat her to the punch.
“Tess said she needed a break,” I lie. “But I’m good to keep going.”
Her jaw drops, hands flying to her waist.
Van doesn’t notice. “Alright. Give me a few to grab the rest of the guys.”
Her brothers exit the room, leaving me all alone with their sister.Goody.
“What are you playing at?” she snaps. “Don’t you want to win?”
Is that even a question?
“Or are you just trying to sabotage Vanstone?” She huffs. “Why did my father bring you on to race for us? I don’t understand! Is this some stupid test to see if I’m capable?”
It’s a fucking test alright, but I’m not sure she’s the one being tested.
Tessa stomps past me. “Figure your shit out,” she grumbles. “We leave for the first prix in less than a week, and you’re not ready.”
I jut my hand in her direction, before she’s too far away, and collide with her hip. She pauses, her chestnut eyes flinging to mine.
“The car isn’t ready,” I argue.
Her pretty pink lips flatten into a scowl. “You’re wrong, Rome. The car is ready…” She shoves my hand away. “But we’re not.”
I force a hot swallow down my throat and watch her go.
She saidwe’re not ready,andI’m not sure how I feel about us being grouped together like that.
The door slams, and instead of our spat putting me on edge with worrisome thoughts of our upcoming prix, I’m buzzing with energy. Arguing with Tessa is more exhilarating than it should be, and it’s beginning to fill my head with all sorts of insane thoughts when, in reality, I should be thinking about how I’m going to beat my father’s team instead of how I’m going to continue to drive my head engineer crazy.
Tessa’s right.
I do need to figure my shit out.
I shift my Lamborghini into park with the sun still hidden behind the night sky and walk toward the office. The building iswider than it is in height, the sign that readsVanstonemocking me the entire walk toward the door.
