Page 82 of Dream Chaser

“Hm.” She pursed her lips. “I don’t think so. Sleeping in your bed isn’t professional, no matter how you look at it.”

“Well, he couldn’t exactly sleep on the floor. I only had one duvet. The couch wasn’t here. But then he didn’t go to work and cooked for me the next day.”

“I’m sure he likes you,” Scarlett said. “That’s my verdict. Maybe he has some baggage. Maybe he’s worried about power imbalance. Or maybe he’s screwing with your head like my ex freshman year, remember? Hot and cold, and I fell for him like a fool.”

I didn’t think Alejandro played games, but I’d made my fair share of mistakes in judgment in the past, especially with Preston. “At least you didn’t marry one like that.”

“Thank the lord I didn’t.” Scarlett’s gaze turned pitying. “Is Preston going to give you a divorce or not?”

I groaned. “Still waiting for his lawyer to get in touch with mine. The elections are almost here. Preston must be too busy campaigning to set me free.”

“He’s trying to preserve his image as a family man, I’m sure.” Scarlett rolled her eyes. “My father knows lots of politicians. I don’t trust any of them.”

“Our town is too small and unremarkable for a big political drama. Most of the politicians there are just a bunch of older, judgmental men with inflated egos to compensate for their receding hairlines.” I paused, swallowing. “You know, maybe it’s for the best.”

“Millford’s lack of drama?”

I chuckled. “No. That Alejandro and I keep things professional.”

Scarlett tucked a lock behind her ear. “You like him.”

“You saw him. Who wouldn’t? His looks aside, I like how smart he is. I like his ethics. I like how he manages the business. This is a dream job, Scar. I got promoted two weeks ago, and I already do things an experienced marketing manager would. I’d be a massive fool to blow up my life over a fling. I’ve just gotten back on my feet. I need money to fund this divorce battle, and until that’s handled, I’m still legally married.”

She laughed. “You’re separated, hon. That’s not the same. Listen.” She put her glasses back on—a sign she was about to say something important. “You’re allowed to live your life and date even before the divorce is finalized. It might drag. You shouldn’t wait forever.”

“I know.” I’d neglected my feelings and needs for too long, and I had no intention of doing that again. But I had nobody but myself, and I couldn’t go back to having nothing and relying on a man only to end up broke.

“I’m just saying,” Scarlett continued, “that if things with Alejandro turn into something more, you shouldn’t feel guilty. You don’t owe loyalty to the man who mistreated you.”

“Thanks, Scar.” I sighed. “I can’t wait for when you’re back. I owe you a real apartment tour.”

“I’ll bring champagne.” She winked. “Please, take care. No more trips to the ER.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I chuckled.

As we hung up, I rushed to get ready to go to the track. I was fortunate to have a job I adored. That was enough.

***

“Turn a bit and look at the door,” I told Asher as he leaned against his bike, clutching a can of NitroFlow energy drink. “Pretend you’re waiting for someone to enter the garage, like Kaia.”

He groaned but obliged. Despite hating posing, he was easy to work with.

“It’d help if you smiled. The sponsor would appreciate it if you looked like the drink actually tastes good.”

That made Asher chuckle. I snapped a series of photos, then zoomed in on his face as he took a sip from the can.

“It does taste okay,” he said. “Okay. What else would you like me to do? I promised Kaia I’d take her out for lunch. She finishes classes early today.”

I swapped the camera for my phone. “Just walk toward me slowly,” I said, jogging backward. “I’ll film you exiting the garage, then we’ll take a few on the track with your helmet on.”

Asher started walking.

“Take a sip of the drink now.” Once he was outside, I nodded. “Great job. Now grab the helmet.”

He went into the garage and returned with it and a business card. “Before I forget.” He handed it to me. “My physical therapist, Pablo, will be waiting for you tomorrow morning.”

I stared at the bold, blue letters. “Your physical therapist?”