“Tell him I said to leave Vinny alone and get focused.”
I feel Van’s attention on my face, but I stare at Rome instead.
Gia covers her mouth with the clipboard, so no one can read her lips, and repeats what I've said.
His mouth twitches, and he says something back to her that I can’t hear through the headset no matter how hard I try.
She sighs loudly.
“What did he say?”
Rome casually walks toward his pen, like the rest of the racers.
Noah is already tucked away in his, meditating or doing whatever he does to get centered.
“He said, ‘Vinny would be happy to know that you, of all people, are standing up for him.’”
I grit my teeth and glare at the back of Rome’s head on his way toward the pen. With the door opened, he peeks over his shoulder at me and winks.
As much as I want to flip him off, I don’t, because I know there are too many eyes around, and they’re definitely watching us.
Chapter Eighteen
ROME
Instrumental music playsthrough my AirPods. I close my eyes with the thought that the alarm on my phone is ticking too quickly.
The race is about to start, and my head is fucking spinning.
Why did I pick a fight with Vinny?
Is this what it’s like to self-sabotage?
I have my father scowling at me, with my old team backing him every step of the way, and now I have two racers who want to eat me alive on the track.
Vinnyandmy stepbrother.
I mean, I love a good competition, but I’m all over the place, even if on the outside I appear as confident as I always do. The truth of the matter is, my life has been turned upside down, and I don’t know how to handle it.
Some will say it was my choice to leave Pierce Racing, but was it?
I exhale and pinch the bridge of my nose. The piano in my ears is background noise to my winding thoughts. My pulse is sky-high, and I can only pray that when I’m seated in my car, the familiarity will calm me enough to focus.
I open my eyes, and a breath catches in my lungs.
Tessa stands inches in front of me with her long, brown hair flowing out from underneath her Vanstone hat. She peers at me like she has something to say.
I lazily skim her body, hesitating on the hem of her skirt. It hits mid-thigh, and I’m instantly reminded of the way her leg felt beneath my palm. Sweat prickles the back of my neck, a rough swallow moving down my throat.
Fuck me.I need to get laid.
Anger zips to my fingertips.
I pull my earbud out and fling a glare at her.
I’m not sure if I’m pissed because she’s in here while I’m trying to get in the zone, or if it’s because she was able to cut through my messy thoughts and center them all around her.
“Out.” It’s a single word, but my tone packs a punch.
