Fucking Dane.
“I’m done.” My nostrils flare as I grab my phone and room key and storm from the gym.
Muffled words echo around the empty gym, but I ignore them.
Lying on the bed,my eyes are pinned to the ceiling and Dane’s comments float around my head. It didn’t matter how much I tried to shut my busy mind down, I can’t.
I know he is right, and I fucking hate that.
Yes, this won’t last forever. I will stay in the world of Formula One, but then what? I go home to an empty house, maybe get a goldfish, and then sleep on my day off. Is that really the life I want for myself?
Rolling on my side, my eyes fall to my phone that is charging. My body is exhausted. My brain is not. My dad came back and look at him now… owner of a successful racing team and it’s only going to get better.
It’s past midnight, my fingers stretch out and land on my screen. Before I realise what I am doing, I have already pressed call.
“Royce.” His voice is thick, full of sleep and a pang of guilt slices through me. “Is everything okay?”
“I need to talk,” I keep it short, to the point.
“Now?” He yawns and I hear the sound of his bed cover being thrown back. “Go back to sleep, Ace, I’m just on the phone to Royce,” he whispers. The sound of him kissing her floats through the phone and my heart twists. “Where are you?” he asks, the gentle swish of fabric against fabric suggesting he is getting dressed.
“In my apartment. I'll come to you.” I move for the door but my dad interrupts me.
“No, I'll come to you.” His tone is rushed, the door closing softly.
Cutting him off, I move from my bed and grab the dressing gown from the back of the door. Her scent wraps around me like a comfort blanket, only to smother me with pain.My feet drag down the hallway before I open the door to my dad stepping towards me.
“Hi,” I say, my voice groggy.
“Hi.” Dad frowns as he walks past me and into the lounge area.
“Do you want a tea or coffee?” I pad cautiously towards him, no idea why I feel nervous. He declines, his head shaking softly.
“What's wrong, Royce?” He sighs, scrubbing his face. He looks tired. This is not ideal seeing as we're racing in two days.
“I need advice,” I whisper.
He glances at the large clock hanging nearby. “At twelve-forty in the morning?”
“Afraid so.” I sigh, sitting opposite him.
His eyes lock on mine and I can tell he is worried. Maybe the thinks I have an issue with the team, or maybe he thinks it an offer of a new seat. I would never move. He knows that. But I swear he doesn't think it's because his son is having girl problems.
“Do you regret giving this up for mum?” I shoot the words out like bullets and watch as they hit his skin.
His eyes widen ever so slightly at my question. He wasn't expecting it and I caught him off guard.He blinks, taking a moment to register the words.
“Not one bit.” His lips turn down momentarily and relief makes my shoulders sag. “But I was further along in my career. I had the Constructors’ and Drivers’ Championship under my belt. I made sure I had that before I stepped away...”
His eyes flicker down to his wedding band, tucking his thumb under as he rubs the cool gold ring.“Why are you asking?” A slither of humour graces his lips.
“I don’t know.” I shrug
“So, you decided to call your old man out of his bed before race weekend to ask if I regretted my decision?”
I nod.He laughs loudly, then winces, probably thinking he may wake Athena.
“She isn't here.”
