He pulled me in a tight embrace, and I let him.
Of course, I gave an inch, and he tried to take a mile.
“We could go for dinner—”
“No. The party is the first step.” We weren’t about tobond.“That’s all you get for now.”
There I went again, giving him that glimmer of hope. I couldn’t stop myself.
“Thank you,” he said again, and when he asked me if I wanted to join him going back inside, I told him I needed more fresh air.
Instead, when he left, almost skipping back to the tunnel, I kicked at the gravel ground until stone sprayed around me and screamed, “Fuck!” My voice was lost in the roar of engines.
This was the opposite of what I wanted.
This was my first job. StormSprint had been my dream since forever.
I wanted to be professional, like Livie and Everly. Sometimes our age difference and how stable their lives were made me realise… how much mine wasn’t.
Retching wasn’t drowned out as much as my swears.
Frowning, I turned down one of the aisles betweenthe huge trailers covered in racers and sponsors.
The gross sound of spitting came from around the corner, and there, on some of the steps, sat Zoltán.
Of course.
I rushed to his side to rub his back. It was a warm day in Southern France, but the heat of his leathers radiated from him.
“Are you… okay?” I asked.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and nodded, looking down at his boots.
“Okay then,” I said, glad that I couldn’t actually see the sick. Or smell it.
I would dry heave.
If he didn’t want to give answers, I wasn’t about to ask. To his face, at least. I happened to share a villa with the queen of StormSprint publicity. She knew everything from breakups to blood types.
If he weren’t in the mood for talking, then I wouldn’t push it.
“You?” he called after me in English.
I turned on my heel. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He shrugged and looked up at me. The glow of his skin had dimmed to something dull and ashy. He spat again.
It shouldn’t have been hot.It was.
“You were arguing with someone,” he said, and waved in the direction I’d come. “You were swearing and screaming louder than I’ve ever heard.”
“You say that like—”
“Like I haven’t heard you scream?”
I pouted, trying to think of a retort. “Yes. I’d hardly call what you witnessed a sob.”
He chuckled and stood, holding the railing next to him. “Sure.”
