Cam went still. “With all due respect, it’s none of your business who I associate with, Daniel.”
A muscle by Daniel’s temple started throbbing. “You’re a great driver, Cam, but even you are not irreplaceable.”
Cam stiffened. “Are you threate—”
“Cam,” Alice cut in quickly. “Please be rational. We’re not asking you to stop associating with him completely. You can still talk to him, but you need to be more careful. Palmer can still come to a race now and then, but he can’t be glued to your side every weekend. You’ve been too obvious. People are calling him your WAG, for god’s sake! Be cordial with him in public, but keep your distance.” She met Cam’s eyes. “No touching. Don’t be alone with him anywhere. Do you understand? This is important, Cam. Think about your career. Think about your legacy. Think about him, too. If people find out, your fans will tear him apart.”
His jaw working, Cam gave a clipped nod. Fine. He would keep his distance from Scott. How hard could it be?
They were just friends, after all.
***
“Oh.”
There was a long silence on the line.
Frowning, Cam started pacing. “Say something,” he said roughly.
Scott laughed a little. The sound was brittle, lacking any real amusement. “What is there to say? Looks like you guys already figured everything out.”
Cam stopped in front of the window and stared out at the gray sky, a knot of unease in his stomach. British weather was as dreary as ever. “You’re angry.”
“No,” Scott said after a moment. His voice was uncharacteristically quiet, lacking any real emotion. Nothing like his usual lively, lighthearted tone. “I… Do what’s best for your career. Obviously it’s more important than—more important.”
The queasy, sickening feeling in his stomach became worse.
Gripping the phone tighter, Cam said, “You’ll come to the next race anyway, right?”
Silence.
“I don’t know,” Scott said at last in the same inflectionless voice. “Don’t worry, I won’t completely disappear. Wouldn’t want it to look weird. I’ll show up at one of the races—if I have time. I am pretty busy these days.”
“Scotty,” Cam said hoarsely.
“What?” Scott said after a moment.
Cam glared at the gray sky, his throat working as he looked for the right words. He didn’t even fully understand why he felt so… unsettled and anxious in his own skin. The closest comparison he could think of was when his car felt unbalanced during a race and he knew there was nothing he could do to improve his track position—knew he was about to lose.
“Just because we can’t see each other doesn’t mean we can’t still talk on the phone,” he said, his voice coming out more clipped than he would have liked.
He heard Scott let out a breath, as if he had been expecting different words. Maybe he had been.
The sense of wrongness in his gut got worse, and Cam ground his teeth in frustration.
“Sure,” Scott said. He chuckled a little. “Don’t be a stranger, dude.” The forced levity anddudewere somehow worse than the previous lack of emotion.
But before Cam could say anything, Scott hung up.
Cam was left staring blankly ahead, the gnawing feeling that something was wrong twisting into something heavier and more painful.
He wanted to call Scott back. Scott should never be hanging up on him. It just felt—wrong. He was used to Scott being kind of needy and clingy and—
“For fuck’s sake,” Cam muttered under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair. There was something wrong with him. It wasn’t very normal to think of a mate this way—think like he was entitled to his attention always. He needed to get a fucking grip.
But his thoughts refused to settle, a tangle of emotions and chaotic thoughts too complex and convoluted to untangle.
Maybe some distance would actually do them good.
