We make eye contact for a second, maybe two, and that’s all it takes to bring me back to the present. Instead of taking the microphone from her, I lean close, her perfume engulfing me.
“Myself,” I say. “At the moment, I’m my own competition. It’s the reason I left Pierce Racing and came to Vanstone. I’d like to hone my skills in a different light and see how I do away from all I’ve ever known.”
“Like a challenge?” the reporter asks as a follow-up.
Tessa, sensing my ease, begins to pull her arm away, but I wrap my fingers around hers to keep her hand in mine–like some sort of security.
What the hell am I doing?
“Exactly.” I nod. “I love a good challenge.”
The words have never rung truer than they do in this exact moment.
Chapter Seventeen
TESSA
“How are you feeling?”
I shift the phone to my other ear, something I’ve done three times since my dad called.
“I feel like I could throw up,” I say honestly.
He chuckles, and my mouth lifts into a small smile.
My stomach has been in knots since arriving in Bahrain, and it has nothing to do with the deep-fried Khanfarooshes I have been indulging in.
Rome has been laser-focused since arriving on Monday yet still arguing with me every step of the way. It wasn’t until the press conference that he began to loosen the reins a little. I assumed the track walk would mimic a WWE showdown between us, but to my surprise, our thoughts aligned, and we were able to make the changes to his car and get in a few practice sessions.
He's still quiet, though. Watchful. Definitely keeping his eyes on his dad and anyone else sporting Pierce’s red and yellow colors. Then there’s the whole thing at the press conference. What started out as us silently fighting beneath the table turned into something else entirely.
Or maybe I’m reading too much into it.
Either way, right now, we’re all business.
Rome is out in the paddock, surrounded by media, with Gia close by to make sure he doesn't say anything that he'll regret. I stand back with the rest of the engineers, preparing everything for the race.
Rome did not qualify as well as we'd hoped.
Though my brother Noah didn't either, so there's that.
Dad’s coffee mug clanks onto the counter through the phone.
“Aren't you supposed to sleep in when you're retired?” I ask. “It’s, like, four in the morning there.”
His familiar chuckles soothes me. “Can't teach an old dog new tricks.”
Mom’s voice is faint from somewhere nearby. “He hasn’t slept a wink since you kids left for Bahrain!”
“He’s been up for hours!” Vivian echoes.
What the heck is she doing awake?
My parents watch Vivian when Van is on the road, but that’s becoming trickier as of late.
“Dad, we totally have it under control. We were basically born on a circuit."
Taking a step down is supposed to ease his worries for his health, and here he is, still wound up.
