Page 119 of Off the Grid

I let him revisit the memory in silence with our fingers linked.

“He traveled all the time for the job, but it always felt like he was there somehow. With what I know now about the sport, I don’t know how he did it, but he did. And more than just birthdays. I’m talking silly school events, weird craft fairs that my mum wanted to go to, Monday night movie nights.” He smiles. “God, he loved his movies.”

“What was his favorite?” I ask to keep him talking. To keep that beautiful, bittersweet smile on his face.

“Back to the Future. We could recite all three in the series line for line. Watched them at least once a month. He liked the concept of being able to go back and fix things you’d done wrong. My mum just liked Michael J. Fox.” He chuckles and I immediately think of my dad and the illness he and the actor share. Riggs continues, completely oblivious to my connection. “He’s the complete opposite of my dad’s type so I’m not sure if she really liked him or was just trying to get a little dig in on my dad after he said he wanted to buy a DeLorean.”

“That’s hilarious.”

“The teasing between the two of them every time we watched it was epic.”

“Must have been for you to remember it.”

“Hmm,” he murmurs. “It was. To this day, she donates annually to Michael J. Fox’s Parkinson’s foundation in my dad’s name. A way to keep their joke alive almost two decades later.”

I have similar memories of time with my dad. He might have been a busy businessman, but he always made time for me. Now, I wonder how he did it.

“He sounds like he was a good dad. A good man,” I say.

“He was. Sometimes I worry that I’ll get so wrapped up in the noise about him that I’ll forget stuff like that, you know? As time and memories fade.”

“No one will be able to change your perception of him. You knew him. They didn’t.”

“Yeah.” He falls quiet.

“I’d be remiss if I didn’t ask if you’re worried about Suzuka? It’s coming up.”

His whole body stills. His head dips down for a beat as he stares out at the city beyond. “Are you asking as a Moretti or as the woman I’m sitting beside and currently sleeping with?”

“How about I’m whomever you want me to be?”

He smirks, and I welcome the sight of it. “That’s an open-ended response that could lead to some serious roleplaying.”

“Oh really?”

“Hmm.” He leans over and presses a kiss to my lips. It’s unexpected, but so very welcome. He rests his forehead on mine for a beat before nodding, almost as if he’s fortifying his answer, before sitting back up.

“The race. The race. The race.” He groans. “It’s all anyone wants to talk about. Or rather not talk about because they’d rather pretend they’re not thinking it and just stare at me like they’re waiting for . . . I don’t know what they’re waiting for from me.”

“That has to be . . . hard. Intrusive. Annoying. All of the above.”

“Yep.” He sighs and falls silent for a beat. “Does it cross my mind? Of course it does. How could it not? There’s a reason I’ve worn that track out on the sim. I mean . . . the only way to face this track is head-on. It’ll have taken me seventeen years to get there, but it’s probably about time.”

“That still won’t make it any easier or the watchful eyes on you any less curious.”

“I know. Believe me, I know. My plan? To be a robot. To block out all emotion. I’ve been a pro at doing that my whole life, so I guess I’ve been practicing for this moment. I don’t fucking know.” He runs a hand through his hair and purses his lips. “It’s easy to shut down when the one thing you loved more than anything is taken from you. I mean, I have a few close friends who’ve breached that wall. I guess, until you.” He smiles softly. “I mean, yeah. You. I don’t talk about this shit with anybody really.”

He glances over at me and shakes his head as if he can’t believe it himself.

“Well, I’m glad I can be that for you.”

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CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Riggs

Why is it so comfortable to sit in silence with her?