“Yes?”
It’s unfamiliar territory for them, but there are only two races left in the season. If Sam doesn’t take the opportunity to ask now, he might never do so.
His brain whispers that Thomas and Lucas lookso similarfrom behind. That it could work both ways. If he just closed his eyes?—
He stops that thought before it even finishes.
“I-If I promised feelings wouldn’t be involved—if it was purely physical—would you be interested in sex with me?”
Lucas’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t reply.
“You’ve had casual sex before.” Sam stumbles to try to sell himself, and he can feel embarrassment heating his cheeks. “I was just wondering if you’d be—I mean, if that was something maybe—maybe you could see doing. With me, maybe.”
Sam is such a fucking idiot.
Lucas finally finds his voice. “I do not think that is a good idea.”
Sam deflates. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”
He shrugs his shirt on, but when he pops his head through the neck hole, Lucas still hasn’t left yet.
“Send me your room number.”
“What?”
“The number for your hotel room.” That wasn’t the confusing part. “I might change my mind.”
Sam nods eagerly. “Yeah, I can—I’ll do that right now.”
By the time he’s sent the text, Lucas is gone.
He said it would be a possibility, but Sam is honestly surprised when Lucas knocks on his door later that night. He checks the peephole, to be sure, but there’s Lucas’s head, turned away, watching down the hallway in case any fans spot him.
Sam opens the door but, before he realizes his mistake, Thomas sticks a leg and an arm through the opening.
“I just want to talk!” Thomas yelps.
“Go away.” Sam kicks at Thomas’s shoe, but it doesn’t budge. “How did you even find me, anyways? Did the front desk rat me out?” That has to be a security concern, surely.
“Lucas gave me your room number.” Thomas strains to fit his face through the opening while his arm and leg push against the door. “He said we should talk.”
Lucas. Of course. That traitor.
“Fine.”
Thomas stumbles inside when Sam suddenly releases the door.
“Well? Talk.”
“I—” Thomas stretches himself up to his full height and stares up at Sam. “Hello.”
Sam doesn’t have time for this. “Is that it?”
“No, I am trying to think about where to start. I did not expect you would let me inside.”
“Well, I did. So—” Sam motions for him to continue.
“Right.” Thomas clears his throat and announces, “I only want to drive for Ferraro.”
