“Look who it is!” His green eyes lighten as his smile widens.
“Hey, James.”
“It’s good to have you back.”
My posture goes rigid. “For the weekend.”
His smile doesn’t falter. “Even better. My old age means I can only handle one of you assholes at a time.” He winks.
Noah laughs beside me. My shoulders drop, and I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding in. I don’t know why I expected James to push me on the subject, but he remains relaxed.
James wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me into him. “Relax. We’re happy to have you even if it’s just for a weekend.”
I nod my head and return his hug. After being gone for as long as I have, I didn’t realize how much I missed James. I’ve neglected this part of my life for too long.
He releases me. “How do you feel about saying hi to some of the old crew? They’ve been wanting to say hi, but they didn’t want to cross any boundaries.”
Since when have I become an intimidating piece of shit? That was always Noah’s job. I look over at my brother-in-law, wondering how I became the grumpy asshole out of the two of us.
Noah lifts a brow in a silent response.
Right.
Is this how I want to be remembered? Even after Noah retires and I never have to show my face at a racetrack again, I’ll go down in history as the recluse who let my circumstances ruin me. And no one wants to be remembered as the loser in history.
I nod my head, solidifying my decision. Fuck the consequences. I’m going to say hi, even if a bit of my dignity shrivels up and dies.
James leads us toward some old coworkers. I spend the next ten minutes answering easy questions and listening to stories from the guys working in the pit. Everyone remains friendly and approachable, and no one asks me about the one subject I hate the most.
I hate to admit it, but Noah was right. It really does seem like these guys miss me. It’s obvious in their smiles and the way they share stories about race days with Noah. They rag on him, making me laugh at all the times Noah messes up, which isn’t very often. No one tries to reminisce about my old days. Instead, they focus on asking me what I’ve been up to lately.
Something releases inside of me. I don’t know what happens, but it’s as if something I’ve kept locked up finally makes its way to the surface. Honesty pours out of me, describing my time babysitting Marko and all the disasters that happened. I share details about the different cars I’ve restored and how I’ve finally started enjoying living in Lake Como. Everyone remains interested, and the questions they ask make the conversation easier.
Something sparkling in the corner of my eye catches my attention. Everything fades away as Chloe steps into my eyesight with her beaming smile and halo of positivity. Everyone’s eyes snap in her direction as she knocks her head back and laughs at something Maya says. We’re all helpless moths seeking her light.
The sight has me frozen in place. My chest tightens as I take her in, letting her breathe a new life into me with nothing more than her presence.
Maybe I should make a wish after all because women like Chloe Carter don’t come around often. And damn, she has me wishing for more than driving again or escaping the prison I created for myself. She makes me want to wish for love, and that’s the most dangerous thing for someone like me. Not because I don’t want it, but because I desire it to the point where I’m willing to do anything to make it happen.
Absolutely anything. Sacrifices be damned.
29
Santiago
Chloe’s heels click against the tiled floor as we enter the hotel elevator. I press the button for the penthouse, and the car groans as it rises.
Chloe looms in the corner of the car, staring up at the ceiling. I scan her body, struggling to choose between focusing on her face, her tits, or her ass. The dress looks incredible on her, and I’m tempted to buy one in every color.
The air thickens around us, heavy with tension as her eyes focus on me. All of me.
I stand taller, enjoying the way her eyes darken as they run across my body.
Chloe blushes and looks away when her eyes meet mine. She whistles, and I laugh.
I eat up the distance between us. “Are you nervous?”
“Honestly?”
I nod my head.
“Yeah, the way you’re looking at me scares me.” She swallows and darts her eyes toward the old-school dial above the elevator door indicating we are only on floor ten out of thirty.
I brush my knuckles across her cheekbone. “Why?”