Cam: Are you qualified for the job?
Scott: I’ll have you know I graduated from MIT Sloan. You’re the dumb one in this relationship, babe.
Cam’s lips twitched.
Cam: I never thought otherwise. So what’s the issue? Tell him no if you don’t want to do it.
The typing dots appeared.
Stopped.
Appeared again.
Scott: I don’t know.
Cam frowned before pressing call.
“You don’t know?” he asked, slipping onto the balcony in search of some peace and quiet. “What does that mean? I thought you didn’t want to follow in your father’s footsteps.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be at that sponsors’ gala?” Scott said.
“I am. Now quit avoiding the question and answer me before Bianca notices I’m missing and hunts me down.”
Scott laughed.“You’re just using me as an excuse to hide from the big, bad sponsors. Admit it.”
“Scotty.”
There was a brief pause.
When Scott spoke again, his voice was softer. More serious.
“I actually think I like the idea,” he said haltingly. “It appeals to me a lot more than trying to live up to Dad’s expectations under his constant supervision. Europe is far enough away that he won’t be around all the time, and a new branch means I can build things my way. There won’t be generations of traditionand expectation hanging over my head.”He hesitated.“And if I accept, I’ll be based in Europe, which…”
Cam licked his lips.“That’s good.”The words came out too quickly.He cleared his throat.“You’d be around more.”
Scott’s chuckle was warm.“I mean, yes. It would definitely make attending races easier. I feel like I’ve been put through the wringer after every transatlantic flight.”
“Do you?” Cam said, frowning. “I’ve never noticed. You complain about jet lag for a few hours and then you’re fine.”
“That’s because it’s worse on the flight back,” Scott said. “I feel displaced and off for days, seriously.”
“Maybe you just miss me.”
The silence that followed was immediate, long enough for something uncomfortable to settle in Cam’s stomach.
It was a joke.Obviously. Of course it was.Of course he didn’t expect or want Scott to miss him.
“Oh, wow,” Scott finally said, his smile audible. “I didn’t realize how much progress you’ve made. If you can make jokes like that, you’re well on your way to being cured of your homophobia.”
Cam rolled his eyes. “All thanks to you.”Unfortunately, his traitorous brain immediately supplied a memory of their last encounter, and Cam shoved it away with irritation.
He was normally very good at compartmentalizing. That was one of the reasons he had become a champion. He knew how to separate emotions from performance, how to put frustration and personal problems into neat little boxes and lock them away until they could no longer interfere with what actually mattered.He had done it after breakups, after family arguments, after disastrous races and public criticism.He had done it his entire life.
For some reason, he wasn’t able to do it where Scott was concerned.Scott had a deeply irritating habit of forcing his way into Cam’s thoughts at the worst possible moments.During engineering meetings, when he was supposed to be analyzing telemetry.During sponsor dinners, when he was supposed to be pretending to enjoy conversations about watches and luxury cars.During media interviews, when he was supposed to be giving polished, boring answers.Even when he was preparing for a race, when his entire world was usually reduced to braking points, tire degradation, and finding those last impossible hundredths of a second. His mind would wander—to ajoke Scott had made, aridiculous outfit Scott had worn, theway he laughed with his whole body, throwing his head back, theway his eyes softened when he looked at Cam.
And yes, memories of their private moments together had a particularly annoying tendency to flash to the forefront of his mind. He found himself thinking about Scott—and what Scott hadallowedhim to do to him—randomly, at the most inappropriate times, when he was supposed to be focusing on something else entirely. It was irritating. And more than a little concerning.
The most frustrating part was, Cam didn’t really regret anything. Heshouldhave regretted it.By every logical standard, he should have looked back on everything that had happened between them as a mistake—a moment of weakness, an indulgence that had complicated his life and might threaten his career if people found out about their… friendship with benefits.
