“As if they’d take me.” My shoulders sag, and she pulls them back.
“You need to regain your confidence and remember you once commanded a team of raging women on the rugby pitch, even though you were the smallest. You’re a powerhouse. Get your dress on, give me five minutes to make your eyes pop, and go flirt with a sexy Greek waiter or bad boy who’s on holiday.”
Tabi murmurs something about doggos while sleeping. A smile tugs at my lips.
It’s one night.
What’s the worst that could happen?
CHAPTER 2
Niki
Sunshine beams through the glass windows, highlighting spotless surfaces and the dust particles dancing in the air.
I’m living in paradise, and yet my stomach rolls with nausea.
Warmth covers my skin, but my hands are clammy as my laptop shows a replay of the Texas Grand Prix in my open-plan kitchen. I watch Formula One cars in reds, greens, and oranges speed around a track I loved racing on. I was fourth there last year, and my best friend, Connor, was third. We got into a lot of trouble celebrating that night. I vaguely recall nearly buying a ranch because Connor and I wanted to be cowboys.
I rub my forehead. I think I rode a bucking bronco naked that night.
The memory doesn’t make me smile as I pace the lounge of my Greek villa. It just reminds me how far I am from the man I used to be, the guy who loved racing and partying after.
My sister, Senna, chatters through the speaker of my mobile, but I barely hear her as I stare at the white walls of myvilla that has become more like a prison than a holiday getaway over the last months.
The scent of bleach burns my nostrils. My insides recoil at the stench that’s surrounded me for the past eight months. I can’t bear it anymore. It stings my eyes like the tears I refuse to shed. It brings memories of hospitals, of my nightmares.
It’s the smell of my failures and a reminder I’m not the man I used to be.
The man I want to be.
“Are you coming home soon, Niki?” Senna asks from the speakerphone. “It’s the end of the season next month, and you said you’d come home a couple of weeks after that.”
I sneeze. No. I can’t be ill. I can’t risk another infection.
I swipe my hand through my hair and glance at the reflection of my sad blue eyes in the oven door. “I’ll be home when I can.”
I want to go home. I suck in air and let it out slowly, but the odour of bleach chokes me.
Senna’s face appears on the replay, and my heart is yanked from my chest. She sits in our family’s team garage, making demands while listening to chatter on her headphones.
“I’m watching the highlights of the race,” I say. Her lips tug up at one side as she directs the team, her team. My chest tightens. I’m so fucking proud of her. “Being team boss suits you.”
Her chuckle is half hearted. “Thanks. Dad disagrees.”
I should return home and fix things, try to mediate between her and Dad or act as a buffer for the crap he gives her, but I can’t. Since the accident, I can’t be around my family or friends.
“I miss you,” she says shakily.
“I miss you, too.” I grit my teeth. I sit on the sofa, but within seconds, I’m jumping up again.
“Are you going to tell me where you are?” Her voice isquiet and vulnerable. I’ve done that to her. I want to be by her side, giving her hugs and celebrating her successes.
“Eventually.”
On screen, Jacs, the team chief mechanic and a friend of mine before everything went to shit, hugs Senna and congratulates her on the race.
I rush to the kitchen sink and scrub my hands with handwash. Bubbles foam as I stare back at the screen, where the team embrace each other. I wish I could hug like they do.
