Jacs gags. “You listened to our private chat.” Jacs fixes me with her stare. “Your ex is the sexiest woman I’ve ever met, but I wouldn’t ask her out. She dumped you after your accident!”
“She didn’t dump me. We?—”
“Consciously uncoupled,” Connor says, using his fingers as quotation marks.
“Which means I’m not going near her. I’ll admire her from afar,” Jacs adds.
Senna joins us, and Connor attempts to kiss her on her cheek. “Get to press.”
“Sorry,” he says, kissing her before running off with one of the marketing team behind him.
“I suspect Clara’s searching for you now the race is over, but we’ll protect you,” Jacs hisses.
More people push behind me, and I’m tempted to escape, but I lean into the barrier instead. I can survive this.
I keep my head down in case Clara’s close. I regret how I ended things but not the reasons for it. I couldn’t be the person she wanted, and I knew she’d dump me after realising I was a pathetic version of who I was. I flip my cap backwards, ensuring it hides my scars.
As the podium ceremony starts, Jacs nudges me. “Who’s that guy? He’s got the greenest eyes.”
I glance at the stocky guy she’s referring to. “I think that’s Billy Nister’s brother. I recognise him from Billy’s socials this weekend.” My theory is confirmed when Billy gets his third place trophy and nods at the guy, who waves back.
“Hey,” Jacs shouts and beckons the guy over. “Are youBilly’s brother?”
We don’t need more people in this small space.
“Yeah. Stepbrother.” Jacs and Senna introduce themselves, but he stares at me. “You’re Niki Coulter. Billy used to talk about you. He always wanted to beat the best, but you had that accident before he could. I’m Scott.”
He attempts to shake my hand, but I stare at it.
“He doesn’t shake hands,” Senna says quietly.
“Oh, right.” He studies me like I’m a lab rat. I grit my teeth. “I only saw you race once, but you were awesome until your accident.”
“Shush, it’s the national anthem,” Jacs says, before wincing at me and mouthing,Sorry.
I shrug as the Italian anthem plays. When it’s over, the drivers spray champagne in each other’s faces. Billy coats Marco, the winner, in it, while howling with laughter.
“There’s so much money in this sport. It was never like this for me. We were lucky to get a doughnut after a match.” Scott chuckles.
“What did you play?” Jacs asks.
“Niki.” A squeal sounds behind me.
“Clara.” I sigh as she rushes at me. Senna dives between us, saving me from a hug. I need to leave, but I’m shoved against the barrier, and the only way out is passing hundreds of germy strangers.
I’m glad Senna’s protecting me, but I wish Rosie were here. She’d get me out of this in seconds. I resist the temptation to check if she’s messaged again.
“How are things?” I ask Clara while Senna maintains the distance between me and my ex.
“Fabulous. I’ve been in so much demand. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be on a plane to Dubai or sipping cocktails with my agent in the Maldives.” Her voice drops. “But it’s not the same without you. I tried calling, but you never answered.”
“I had things going on.” I tap my cap to ensure it’s secure. She watches with pinched eyes as I add, “I’m glad you’re a success. You deserve it. You’re as beautiful as ever.”
Somehow she pirouettes within the tight crowd. I should have treated her better when we were together. We were more than casual, but we never spoke seriously about the long term. Even so, I still feel bad for how it ended.
“I’m an agent now,” Scott says to Jacs. I’ve missed most of their conversation. He gasps so loudly we turn. He’s practically drooling as he stares at Clara. “Well, fucking hell. Clara Swanaker, the Victoria’s Secret model. I can’t believe it’s you.”
I recognise Clara’s grin immediately. It’s the one she gives her favourite fans. It’s a little coy but with the hint of a tease. She proffers her hand, and Scott kisses it eagerly.
