He shakes his head. “Nothing. Let’s finish up this list.”
I’m actually having a good time with Liam. No sex, no complications. Just time spent getting to know one another.
Can Liam have a few flaws, please? Anything besides his part-time job of screwing women.
We take a break to grab a water back in Bandini’s garage.
“Okay, I have to say this. I’m a little disappointed at how oddly normal you are,” I blurt out.
“I won’t lie to you. That’s possibly the best compliment I’ve heard in a while.”
I let out a laugh. “That’s kind of sad. But really, no offense, but your reputation sucks. I was a bit afraid to be your friend.”
“Your level of honesty is refreshing. Please boost my ego a little more while you’re at it.”
“Well, you’re nothing like the guy I expected based on what everyone says about you.” Being around him makes me question what I’ve read and the truths I’ve put stock in because he comes off sweet and interested. I regret jumping to conclusions about him because he acts like a model citizen, paying his taxes on time and walking grandmas across the road.
“For once, I really don’t want to know what people say about me.” He runs an agitated hand through his hair.
“I don’t blame you. But at least I’m willing to stay friends despite everything.”
“Wow. Thank you for your service.” He gives me a half-assed salute.
We finish up our break. Time flies while we hang out, and with one more item to complete, I text Maya to check in on Santi’s progress. She says he still needs to steal a golf cart.
“Last one. We need to sneak a picture with the checkered flag on the Prix finish line.” I read off Maya’s hardest item.
“Let’s grab a flag and hit the line. But we have to be quiet and not draw attention to ourselves because I can get in trouble. F1 tends to be protective of their course before a race day.” He smirks at me.
“I can be quiet, no need to tell me twice.”
We make our way toward the Grandstand overlooking the finish line. It turns out a ton of security officers and F1 personnel hang around the grid area overseeing the finish line.
I push all my blonde hair under the Bandini cap and pull it low on my face. “Do I look like a guy? Maybe a scrawny pit crew member by chance?”
“Is the sky green? What type of question is that? Last time I checked, guys don’t wear scraps of material like yours for shorts, let alone a shirt like that.” He lets out an exasperated sigh as his eyes trail down my body.
My head lowers to check out my T-shirt, laughing at the I like big boats and I cannot lie saying. I bought it specifically for Monaco. His glance makes my heart beat faster, unable to contain my excitement about him checking me out.
Friends, Sophie. Friends.
I don’t miss the way his eyes close after they land on mine. But I pretend I did, saving us the trouble and awkwardness. “Well. Can’t change anything now. Bitches get stitches.”
“You do understand this isn’t where you apply that saying, right?” He rubs a hand across his face.
“Duh. But where’s the fun in that? We’re already rebelling.” I step toward the stand housing the different colored flags.
Liam strolls past me, climbing the ladder like he does this all the time. He grabs the flag and tosses it to me. I miss because Liam smiles at me, looking like some kind of German god, screwing with my coordination. The pole clatters to the ground and draws the attention of surrounding crew members.
“Quick. Hurry up!” His yelling snaps me out of my impromptu spell.
I look up from the pavement to find his feet planted back on the ground, his phone filming me. My hand grabs the flag and I wave it around while Liam takes a video. He laughs along with me as I throw the flag in the air and catch it this time. A guard runs toward us, so I ditch the flag as Liam grabs my hand, sending another rush of energy up my arm.
We run toward the McCoy garage, not stopping until we both collapse by the wheels of Liam’s car. Our heavy breathing fills the silent garage.
I turn my head to find Liam staring at me, the blue shade of his eyes darker than usual. A look shouldn’t make me feel how it does, happy and excited all at once, craving him in ways I’m unaccustomed to. An uneasiness runs down my spine at the idea of feeling something more than friendship for this man.
A McCoy mechanic interrupts our moment when he asks us to move.
We head toward the Bandini pit area.
Maya hangs around the garage, fiddling with her camera. “Looks like you’re the winner of this round. But unfortunately, we have to cancel the Championship because Santi got in trouble.” She frowns at me.