10

After the press interviews wrapped, Violet and Will decided they should grab some dinner before taking the car back to Chilton. Mira hadn’t been to London in years, so she let Will and Violet pick the place. After a spirited debate, which was only settled because Will was paying and vetoed Violet, they ended up at a small brasserie not far from the television studio.

“It’s cozy,” Mira observed as they got settled. It was lit mainly by the votive candles on the table, and the walls were lined with an eclectic selection of old paintings and photos, all in mismatched gilt frames. Over the small bar in back, a chalkboard displayed the daily specials. A waitress with an undercut and a nose ring dropped off menus on her way to another table. It was hard to imagine this place being one of Will’s favorites, but then again, he kept surprising her.

Will shrugged. “It’s not far from my place. Good food.”

“Where’s your place?” Mira asked, telling herself she was just making polite conversation. In truth, she was wildly curious about his life outside of Lennox.

“Hackney, just north of here. I bought it …” He hesitated. “Three years ago. When I signed my Hansbach contract.”

“I see,” Violet teased. “It’s your splashy Formula One driver den of iniquity.”

Will shot her a look. “Not all that splashy, actually. It’s just a flat in a converted old factory.”

Okay, not quite the Death Star she’d imagined.

“What’s good here?” Violet said, before Mira had heard nearly enough about Will’s apartment.

He sighed. “Their pasta is brilliant, but my trainer will have my head if I eat it, so do it for me, please. At least I can smell it.”

“Sounds good,” Mira replied.

Violet was still examining the menu when her phone buzzed. She glanced at the face and frowned. “Order me the Bolognese and a big glass of red. I need to take this.”

Then she slid out of her seat and made her way to the front door. Mira could see her out on the sidewalk as she took the call, looking more annoyed than normal.

“Wonder what that’s about.”

“I’m convinced Violet is secretly an elite assassin,” Will said.

“Actually, I can totally picture that.”

The waitress returned for their orders. She ordered for herself and Violet, while Will forlornly ordered the steamed salmon, no sauce. Now that she’d seen him—nearly all of him—it was hard to imagine that he could get more in shape, but the pressure to stay in peak physical condition was the same for drivers as for any other elite athletes, especially as the start of the season grew nearer.

When the waitress had deposited their drinks—wine for Violet and herself, sparkling water for Will—Mira glanced back toward Violet, but she was still outside on the phone. No help coming from that quarter. She was going to have to make conversation with Will on her own. Not that it was hard. He was surprisingly easy to talk to. And she was trying to forget any lingering weirdness from the afternoon, because he seemed fine. It probably wasn’t even a big deal for him. He likely kissed random women all the time and then never thought about it again. He might have already forgotten it even happened. She wished she could.

“Do you think Violet really managed to kill Pippa’s story?” he suddenly asked. His dark eyebrows were furrowed, casting his eyes into shadow. His uncertainty did a number on her, the same way it had that afternoon. It made her want to protect him, which was just ludicrous. Will Hawley hardly needed her as his defender.

“You’re still thinking about that? Don’t worry about it. It’s all just bullshit gossip anyway.”

“It’s just—” He ran a hand across the back of his neck.

“What?”

“It’s just … it’s exhausting sometimes. Trying to live that shit down. Trying to prove to the whole world that I’m not the same anymore.”

That hit her right in the solar plexus. “Don’t I know it,” she sighed, before she could catch herself.

He gave her a look. “I have a hard time imagining you’ve ever done anything you regretted, Mira. You’re far too … cautious.”

She almost told him he had no idea what he was talking about, but she bit back the words at the last minute. But it didn’t matter, since her silence seemed to tip him off that he’d hit a nerve.

“What?” He sat up, leaning forward on his elbows. These tables were way too tiny, and he was way too close. “You have a secret . Tell me.”

She sat back, crossing her arms over her chest. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Look at you, all folded up like a crab. The hell there’s not.”

Just then the waitress arrived with their orders. Mira hoped the food would be enough to divert Will’s attention, but when she looked up, he was still watching her from across the table.

“Does your big regret have anything to do with you disappearing for all these years?”

God, how on earth was he so perceptive? Will Hawley of all people? She glanced at the door, desperately hoping to see Violet returning, but she was still outside, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, phone to her ear.

“It’s not important. Ancient history at this point, anyway.” She took a bite of her pasta, which was, as he’d promised, excellent.

“Can’t be that ancient if it still bugs you.” His voice was low and intimate, and it felt like they were alone in the soft gold circle of light cast by the candle flickering between them. That must have been why she opened that trunk full of her secrets, even if only a crack, and let some small part of it out.

She turned her wineglass in a circle before taking a sip. “I made a really stupid mistake when I was younger.”

“Well, then you’re in good company, because as it so happens, I’m a pro at stupid choices. There was a time when I might have held the world championship.”

Despite the dread she felt about discussing her past, that made her laugh. “I’m pretty sure at one point in my life, we would have been on a race to the bottom.”

“Did you kill a man just to watch him die? Or was it selling illegal arms to a fascist regime?”

“How’d you know?!” she said, with mock surprise. “No, nobody died. I just …” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “The last time I was at Lennox I was sixteen, traveling the circuit with my dad.”

Will nodded. “Considering who your dad is, I figured you spent a lot of time on the track.”

“I did. Which means I knew the rules. But whatever … I was a dumb teenager who thought she knew everything.”

“Uh-oh. Sounds like the universe corrected you on that one?”

“Not the universe. Just a guy.”

His eyes lit up with interest. “Ah. This is a love story.”

Mira snorted in disgust. “It’s not a love story.”

Will raised his eyebrows. “No?”

“I got involved with someone I shouldn’t have. I snuck around and lied to a lot of people to do it. I lied to my dad . Then it ended—badly, as you can probably guess—and everybody found out. I disappointed a lot of people, and I paid for it. Even worse, my dad paid for it, and the team paid for it.”

“How?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. What matters is that I really messed things up with him. And now I have a lot to make up for. I will never do something to put him in a position like that again.”

“Hey.” He reached across the table and laid his hand over hers. She froze, staring down at those long, elegant fingers, curled loosely over hers, and tried not to think about the rush of heat it sent to every last corner of her body. As suddenly as he’d touched her, his hand slid away again. “You were a kid. Kids make mistakes.”

She blinked, still staring at her hand, where a moment ago, he’d been touching her. There had been a few guys since that early heartbreak, but none of them had managed to set her on fire with a casual brush of his fingers the way Will did. She’d completely lost her place in the conversation. But there he was across the table, as beautiful and unbothered as always, and she had to remind herself that while every look and touch he sent her way was enough to put her into heart failure, it was quite obviously not the same for him. She’d better remember that before she let him make a fool of her.

“I knew what I was doing,” she said at last. Then she smiled wryly. “Or at least I thought I did.”

“And you’ve been punishing yourself for this ever since?”

“I’ve been learning from it. There’s a difference.”

“Ah … it’s all becoming clear now.”

“What is?”

He waved his fork at her. “This uptight look of yours.”

“What? I’m not—”

Will leaned forward, like he was telling her a secret. “Because it doesn’t seem quite you. I get the feeling there’s more to you than making those freakishly tidy lists of yours. Where did you learn to write like that anyway? It’s not normal, Mira.”

“It’s not … my lists are … my handwriting isn’t …”

“Mistakes sometimes make us better. I’m a better driver after the mistakes I made in my first year.”

She speared a piece of rigatoni with more force than necessary. “Look, let’s agree—you handle things your way, I handle things mine. Just as long as your way doesn’t jeopardize Lennox, I won’t give you a hard time about it.”

In an instant, Will sobered. “I’d never harm the team. I hope you know that. I worked too hard to get back here.”

She dropped her eyes to her plate, fiddling with her fork. “I know you did.”

“I’m guessing you’ve been working hard to get back here, too?”

She nodded. “It’s all I want.”

“Really?” he said, leaning in and hitting her with that criminally hot mischievous grin again. “It’s all you want?”

The butterflies in her stomach started up their fluttering again. His attention was a potent drug, and she was going to miss it when it was inevitably drawn off by other, more attractive, more available options. Because as much as she wanted to indulge in this feeling—a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a very long time—she just couldn’t.

“You are relentless,” she murmured.

“You have no idea,” he said in a low rumble that made her thighs clench. “And look, it worked.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re out with me.”

“This doesn’t count.”

He looked around in fake confusion. “We’re out. There’s wine and candlelight. I’m pretty sure this counts.”

“Whatever. You know what I mean.”

He broke into a laugh. “I know, I know. But, Mira?”

“Yeah?”

He nudged forward again, so she leaned in, too. His face was just a few inches away, and she fought to keep her eyes on his, and not look at his mouth.

“Just so you know,” he said quietly. “If you ever want to finish that kiss, I’m ready when you are.”

She froze, heart pounding, heat pooling in all kinds of places. So he’d felt it too. The humor faded from his expression, and she knew from the heat in his steady gaze, that he was absolutely serious. Her mouth opened to reply, although she had no idea what she was going to say … what she should say … what she wanted to say. Because she wanted him, there was no denying that simple fact. She just couldn’t have him.

“I—”

“Please tell me this is my wine.”

Violet dropped heavily in her chair and seized the glass, taking a hefty swig.

Mira jerked back in her chair. “Um.” She paused to clear her throat. “Everything okay?”

“What?”

“Your phone call?”

Violet shook her head. “Nothing. Just haunted by ghosts. You know how it is.”

Oh, yes, she knew. And her own ghosts were just the reminder she needed to keep her head on straight. She’d just been dancing at the edge of a cliff with Will, but she absolutely refused to let herself be pulled over into the abyss.