As we walked out, we passed Aleks’s table and I resolutely kept my gaze set ahead, avoiding his ice-blue eyes.
But I felt them on me all the same.
Aleksandr Volkov
Practice sessions didn’t start for a couple of hours, and the hotel dining room was buzzing—drivers, engineers, and enough PR handlers to stage a coup. Everyone caffeinated. Everyone watching everyone else.
I stirred my coffee in slow, methodical circles. I hadn’t touched the eggs on my plate.
“Buddy,” Jax said around a mouthful of croissant. “You know you’re allowed to eat, yeah? It’s not a staring contest.”
I didn’t answer. Just pushed the plate away and reached for my coffee.
Across from me, Jax lounged like the chair was a sunbed, one leg slung over the arm of the chair, sunglasses still on despite being indoors. The man had no concept of tension. Or shame.
Terri, seated to my right, was deep in her notes, tapping briskly on her tablet as she ran through my day.
“FP1 briefing at nine,” she said without looking up. “Media straight after — five minutes, no freelancing. Lunch is a working one with engineering, then simulator review before FP2.”
“Packed,” I murmured.
She finally glanced up at me, expression sharp. “Which means hydrate, eat properly, and do not disappear on me.”
Jax snorted. “Wow. She sounds fun.”
Terri didn’t even look at him.
“And you,” she added, eyes flicking up briefly to skewer me. “Are to keep your nose clean, answer media questions like a grown-up, and not hit anyone.”
Jax snorted. “You should get that printed on a t-shirt.”
“I’ll add it to the merch store,” I said, dry.
“You joke,” Jax said, pointing a pastry at me. “But the fans would lap it up. ‘Volkov: I Don’t Punch Back’. Just credit me for the slogan, yeah?”
I ignored him. Or tried to.
But then he leaned over, snatched a grape from my plate, and popped it into his mouth with the smug satisfaction of a man who knew I wouldn’t stab him in public.
Terri rolled her eyes. “You’re like a damn child.”
“Hey,” Jax said. “I’m just keeping him grounded. Can’t have our precious ice prince brooding his way into another scandal.”
I met his gaze flatly. “Focus on your own scandal.”
He grinned. “I plan to. Give it time. I’ve got the bones of something truly disastrous brewing.”
Terri sighed. “Why do I work with men?”
“You love us,” Jax said.
“I tolerate you. At best.”
I sat back, letting the chatter fade for a moment. Elena had already left—swept out with her editor a few minutes earlier. I tried not to look, but I couldn’t help myself. She was cool though, no tells, this time.
And that was worse.
She was under my skin. A heat I couldn’t shake. A risk I couldn’t stop wanting to take.
