“The movers have already readied the apartment. Now do you want to tell me why you made the huge decision to move out of your apartment, which you love, so this mystery woman can move in?”
I’ve played things close to the vest over the past couple of weeks. Not out of shame, but because I didn’t want to put any more pressure on Alyssia. Once I tell my family about the baby, I know they’ll be all in.
Alyssia, on the other hand, is a different story. Thinking back on how much of a protest she put up when I talked about moving to Monaco, makes tension roll through my shoulders. She’s so damn adamant about not taking what I offer, I’m still pissed about the way she hung up on me when I told her I paid her rent for the next two months.
Pissed, but my lips twitch thinking about it.
Fine, I might be amused by it but it’s still frustrating. She should at least understand that being closer to me, allowing me to provide for her and the baby financially is what’s best.
I shove my hands into the arms of my racing suit and zip it all of the way up, not answering my sister.
“Hey?” She shoves at my shoulder. “I’m speaking to you. You’ve never done any of this for a woman before.” She snorts.
“And never in the two years I’ve worked for you, have you ever asked me to run any sort of interference for you when it comes to a woman.”
I glance down at her.
“Is there something you want to tell me?”
“There is,” I finally say after a beat of silence. I pull the ultrasound picture that I’ve carried around with me every daysince it was taken out and show it to my sister. “I’m going to be a father.”
“Holy shit!” she shouts, but then flinches as she looks over her shoulder at the gazes she’s drawn from the rest of my team.
“Are you serious? Wait, you joke about a lot, but you’d never joke about something like this.” Ana’s having a conversation with herself at this point.
“What the fuck, Trav?”
“It’s a long story.”
“You think?”
She stares at the ultrasound pics again. “You haven’t told Mom and Dad yet, right? And I know you haven’t said anything to Tristan or Chloe yet. They’re gonna flip out,” she says of our third and younger sister.
“I can’t believe you. How old is this picture? When did you find out? Who is this woman? You?—”
“Have a race to win,” I interject.
She pinches her lips together, probably biting back the demand for a deeper explanation.
“I’ll explain everything once I win.” I take the ultrasound photo from her and carefully place it back inside my pocket.
I hold up my hand for our special pre-race high-five. We clap hands then connect elbows, turning our forearms until our palms meet that bottom, high-fiving again.
“Go kick ass,” she encourages, slapping me on the back as I pass.
“Will do.”
Minutes later, I slide my helmet over my head and climb into my bright red rocket on four wheels.
“Let’s do this,” I murmur to the car while running my hand along the steering wheel.
“Fuck yeah!”I yell into the intercom after my first-place finish.
I raise my fist and salute my team who all hang out of the fence that separates our staff from the racetrack.
“Well done, Travis,” my team principal tells me.
For a little extra, once all of the drivers have completed the race, I do a donut in my car to the roar of the crowd, before pulling into my team’s garage.
