Ilya glares at me. “Where do you think you’re going? Sit down and keep at it. It’s only the first round.” He squints up at Asher’s timing screen, nodding tohimself. “Ethan, stand and observe. Victoria, get your ass in the chair and make him perform like that again.”
Alrighty, then.
Another grueling round later, Asher finishes in P14. It’s not the best rank… but it’s certainly a hell of a lot better than what he’s done all season. And last season, and the one before that. It’s his highest qualifying ranking in years.
Elio retired into the paddock right after Q1, out of sight. Ethan has been hovering over my shoulder and glaring at me for the duration of Q2. I’m pretty sure he’d murder me if he thought he could get away with it, but he can’t. There are far too many witnesses.
Ilya catches my gaze and nods. “Good work. I want the outline of your algorithm as soon as we get back to HQ.
Alarm tightens my posture. “It’s not ready—”
“If it’s good enough to yield these sorts of resultsnow, then it’s ready to be talked about now.” He jerks his chin. “I’ll see you at debrief after Q3.”
Technically, nobody’s supposed to abandon the pit wall until after all of qualifying has concluded, but I’m also not strictly-speaking supposed to be here. And I want to see Asher’s face when he climbs out of the car.
Nerves quicken my breathing as his car pulls into the lane and rolls to a stop. He unbuckles with Thomas’s help, who gives him a hand getting out, andremoves his helmet. His top is visibly stained with sweat, which also darkens his hair and beads on his forehead.
His eyes dart around the garage and lane until they fall on me. Slowly, a smile splits his beautiful lips… and it feels like the world stops spinning.
His smile is fresh air after a lifetime of being trapped in a cold, damp cell. It’s glacier water at the end of a trek through the desert. It’s warm sunlight and sheerjoy.
Now I understand why he never smiles; the sight is disarming. It’s unraveling. I have to manually lift my jaw from the ground to seal my lips again.
We both know he’s nowhere close to winning, but I also know he’s one step closer to getting a renewed contract and maybe even offers from other teams. AndI’mone step closer to making the program I’ve spentyearsof my life theorizing and building into something practical and useful in my favorite sport.
I jog across the pitlane without bothering to look left or right—something that could otherwise be a fatal mistake, but I get lucky.
I stop right in front of Asher, breathing hard, trying to keep my eyes from roaming his body. Now is not a choice time for my libido to make an appearance, but I can’t seem to stop myself. He’s devastatingly gorgeous all the time, but his competence and the fact that helistenedmakes him even sexier.
“Good work out there,” I say, my voice strangely breathless.
“Good work on the pit wall,” he replies. “P14. Think we can get a podium this season?”
He’ll need an upgrade package on his car. And I’ll need to finish my algorithm, teach it the behaviors of other teams so that it can computetheirdrivers in real-time, running its own projections against any barriers that others may present. Assuming I can get all of that done—which is no easy feat—“Yes.”
Boyish excitement lights up Asher’s eyes. A moment later, they darken; not with anger, but with something else. Something that I won’t allow myself to mistake for lust. His eyes lower to my lips, and mine lower to his. My breath catches in my throat, and our surroundings blur.
Is he going to—
The moment is shattered by an engineer calling Asher’s name. He takes a startled step back, smile dropping. “Uh… you want to talk tonight? About tomorrow’s strategy, I mean.” Holy shit, is henervous?“We can meet up at one of our rooms.” His cheeks brighten when he realizes the implications of his words, and he coughs. “Or the hotel bar, or—”
“Text me,” I tell him. “I have a bunch of stuff to get done, so it’ll have to be late—or it’ll need to be a working meeting.”
“Okay.” He nods. “Uh… thank you. For your help.” He clears his throat. “Out there. We make a good team.”
It’s the first time he’s genuinely thanked me for everything. I smile, my heart melting like ice in the warm summer sun. “Anytime.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Asher
Iend up texting Victoria to come down to the hotel bar close to 11. Not because I get in particularly late—I forgo the pre-race parties being hosted all over the exotic city and head right back to my room. But because I agonize like a schoolboy over how the hell I’m supposed to contain myself around the intern.
When I told her we make a good team, it wasn’t an understatement. I can admit that there isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that I would’ve gotten anything better than P20 if it weren’t for her.
During most of Q1, I figured that she was giving Ethan information to pass onto me. His directives didn’tsoundlike hers, but maybe that’s because his voice is nowhere near as pleasing. Then, she came on and told me to pull an extremely risky move… because she believed in me.
She’s the first person on this team to believe in me. It’s incensing, humbling, andridiculouslyfucking arousing.
