I moved to the minibar, needing something to do with my hands.The cold light turned on when I opened it.I pulled two cans of sparkling water from the back and handed one to her before taking a seat next.Her fingers brushed mine when she took it, barely-there, the barest whisper of contact.But that fleeting touch sent something warm spreading through my chest, settling somewhere dangerous.
I wanted to touch her again.
She looked away first, breaking whatever moment that was, before opening the can.The hiss of carbonation was the only sound in the room.I waited for her to toss some retort my way, to break the tension with sarcasm the way she usually did.
“No one gets what we’re going through except for the other eighteen drivers on the grid,” she said finally.“The perseverance and toughness needed to perform in this sport, and the mental capacity, it feels too much at times.One inkling of self-doubt can wreck your entire season.You always looked so unshakeable, Henri.”
“That Henri feels like a lifetime ago.”
She leaned back, and I could almost see the guarded walls over her heart being brought down.“Then we just have to find him again.”
Her words were so sure, reeking of that quintessential Lily confidence that made impossible things seem achievable.
For the first time in months, the silence between us didn’t feel like punishment.It was justsilence.Neither of us reached for our phones.Neither of us looked for an excuse to leave.
“Thanks.For telling me.”Her words were quiet.“I miss talking to you.We used to actually talk about stuff that mattered.Before everything got so…”
She stopped, her mouth still parted around the next word.Her gaze dropped to where her fingers twisted the edge of her hem.The rain tapped against the glass, filling the space where her words should have been.
“Yeah.”I agreed.“I miss it too.”
I desperately missed these moments between us.Talking to Lily had always been so easy, so natural, in a way that nothing else in my life was.I let the moment of comfort stretch, hoping she’d find another reason to smile.But gradually, I watched the tension creep back into her shoulders.Her knee started bouncing with that restless energy she could never quite contain.She picked up the note again, unfolded it, read it, folded it twice, and set it back down.
My knee brushed hers as I shifted to get more comfortable, but her leg didn’t move away, didn’t flinch.The tension was different now, slower, almost aimless, curling around us with nowhere urgent to go.
I watched the side of her face, the way her jaw ticked when she wasn’t thinking.How her mouth pursed slightly every time she almost said something and then swallowed the words instead.
For a woman who never stopped talking, who filled every silence with commentary and jokes and observations, she could also be impressively comfortable with quiet.Silence didn’t bother Lily.I wasn’t sure anythingreallybothered Lily for long.She may be knocked down today, but she would be back up tomorrow, her smile never too far from the surface.
For a moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to just exist like that.To not carry every mistake, every fear, every failure like a stone in my chest.
She turned her head toward me, catching the way I was watching her.
“What?”she asked.
I should have looked away.Should’ve made a joke or changed the subject or done anything except what I was doing: leaning forward, just like I’d done in Montreal.Everything about Lily was so intoxicating and addictive, and I was too weak to back away.
The faintest wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows, confusion mixing with something else.Something that made my pulse kick up.She noticed the shift.
I closed the space a little more, half-expecting her to laugh in my face, to shove me back and tell me I’d misread everything.And I would have deserved that.
For a moment, we hovered together.There was something unexplainable about Lily that had always drawn me in, some gravitational pull I’d spent the past six months resisting.Every word I knew fled my mind.The only thing left was her soft stare.Curious, defiant, and a little reckless.
When it came to Lily Blackwood, I couldn’t fight the magnetic pull between us.The person I needed to stay away from was becoming my kryptonite.
Lily shifted closer, just slightly, her knee brushing mine.It was nothing and everything, all at once.My breath hitched, and I watched her eyes flick to my mouth for a fraction of a second before returning to meet my gaze.I felt myself lean in.At this point, it wasn’t a decision or even a conscious thought.Just a pull I couldn’t describe, didn’t want to fight.
Every instinct screamed at me to stop, to not open my heart to this impossible situation.To remember all the reasons this was a terrible idea, because if the past week had proven anything, it was that we could never be together.
Her gaze snapped to mine just as the gap between us started to vanish, and the way she looked at me—not angry, not even triumphant, but open and wanting—made me want to tell her every secret I’d ever hidden.
Maybe I should tell her, I thought to myself.Or at least, tell her that we can’t keep doing this.
“Lily, about—”
Before I could finish and tell her why I abandoned her in Las Vegas, Lily’s lips gently pressed against mine.The first contact was hesitant, like she was still deciding whether to let this happen.I waited for her to pull away; come to her senses and remember all the reasons this shouldn’t happen again.
But she didn’t.
