Again?“We’ve been through this.”
“Yes, but you need to understand that for me, racing comes first. It always will.”
“I get it, Ferraro comes first. You choose red. That’s fine.” It’s a moot point anyways, now that the kid’s contract has been signed.
“Will you shut up? I am trying to say I still want you.”
Sam doesn’t answer, but he freezes in place, his body stock-still.
“I only want to race for Ferraro, but I am only wanting you as well. When I said no that day, I was saying no to Red Boar, not to you. This is what I have been trying to tell you—Iwantyou, Samuel.”
Sam tries to keep his face composed, but he can’t pretend to be unaffected. “You said I didn’t love you.”
“I still do not think so.” Oh great. At least he hasn’t changed. “But that is okay for now.”
“It’s notokayfor you to tell me how I feel.”
“A man who truly loved me would not ask me to leave Ferraro.” It’s a bold statement, but Thomas keeps his eyes trained on Sam. “Would you leave Red Boar for me? Move to Italy and learn Italian? Would you uproot your entirelifefor me?”
Sam clenches his jaw instead of answering. He wouldn’t, and they both already know it.
“But Imissyou,” Thomas pleads. “I am now half the man I was when we were together. It could become love one day—I see that happening with you.”
“What about Rafael? What do you see with him?”
“Rafael?” Thomas has the gall to look confused. “What about him?”
Sam scoffs. “You can’t expect me to ignore that you want him! When he finally admits he loves you, what then? Where does that leave me?”
Something like recognition crosses Thomas’s face. “You said something to him. To Rafael.”
“Have you been fucking this whole time?” It’s embarrassing how close to tears Sam is. “Did he finally get tired of you? Is that why you’re here?”
“Non!No, we did not. I do not want Rafael.”
Sam can still remember hearing the Brazilian's name fall from his lips in the throes of ecstasy. “Sure you don’t.”
“I cannot believe I am having this conversation two times.” Thomas grabs Sam’s forearms and it sends a spark of electricity through him. “I will not settle. Not on Ferraro, and not on you. Please, Samuel, it isonlyyou.”
Only you.
Sam’s stomach tightens as he swallows. “So you’re… you’re choosing me?”
Thomas nods quickly, almost violently. “But are you choosing me? I will not forget it was Lucas who gave me your room number.”
Carefully, so carefully, Sam steps closer. The movement causes Thomas to shift his grip, for his dainty fingers to trail up Sam’s forearms, over his biceps, and land on his shoulders.
Sam’s hands settle on Thomas’s narrow hips and he releases a shaky exhale. “I chose you a long time ago.”
Even before the club night in France. Sam chose Thomas when he decided to give his stupid replacement plan a try. When he looked him in the eyes as he came and still wanted more.
It was always Thomas.
“Things change.” The Frenchman licks his lips and asks, “Do you still choose me?”
Sam’s hand is trembling when he cups Thomas’s cheek and breathes, “I still choose you.”
Thomas sighs into his hand, melting against Sam’s palm. His eyelashes splay out, over the tops of his cheeks. “Imissedyou.”
