22. Barcelona, Spain

22

Barcelona, Spain

As Mira made her way across the blacktop of the paddock, it almost felt like the soles of her shoes were melting into it. Spain was in the middle of an unprecedented heat wave. The sun beat down relentlessly on the asphalt, and the breeze, as hot as a gust from an open oven, had her credentials dancing at the end of the lanyard around her neck. Her hair stuck to the back of her neck like a hot, wet towel.

At least here they had the comfort of their custom mobile facilities that traveled with them to the European races, and she personally thought Lennox’s were the best on the circuit. Lennox’s impressive two-story glossy-blue structure had the garage below, offices above, and a race command center off to the side. Despite its size, the whole thing came apart like LEGO bricks, to be trucked to the next race. Their hospitality center was even larger, with a glass-fronted dining room and a roof deck.

She slipped into the race command center as quietly as possible, exhaling as the cool air hit her. Even though she’d come here to find him, her stomach twisted with anxiety when she spotted her father puzzling over a snarl of data on one of the monitors. It had been three weeks since that disaster in Singapore and she still felt like she was trying to make up for her fuckup.

During the garage load-in in Singapore, one of the massive equipment carts had come loose from its rolling dolly, pinning one of the guys from the pit crew against a wall. In the end, Ben hadn’t been too badly injured, but he’d had to go to the hospital for X-rays and stitches. It was chaos and no one knew how to reach his wife back in England. That’s when Miranda’s absence had been noticed. She should have been there, pulling up Ben’s emergency contact info and calling his wife herself. Instead, she’d been off in some park, kissing Will, and forgetting every single other thing, while half a dozen people were trying to track her down, including her dad.

She’d felt sick with mortification. And she’d seen it, that doubt in her father’s eyes again. Seeing it was bad enough. It was worse to know he was right to doubt. She’d fucked up. Again.

She’d spent the rest of Singapore and all of Shanghai leaving the track just long enough to sleep, determined to put herself back on course. What happened with Will was a mistake. The accident with Ben had proved that.

Finally, she forced herself to join her father. “Hey, Dad.”

His eyes flicked briefly to her and then back to the bank of monitors. Things had felt like they were getting better, like maybe their relationship was getting back to where it had been before. But since that night in Singapore, he’d been brusque and all business with her. It killed her a little bit every time.

“What are you looking at?” she asked.

“Trying to solve Will’s issue of the clutch temperature at the start.”

“It spikes when he’s idling for that long, right?”

“Exactly. I need Harry to come look at these temperatures with me and he’s not answering on headset.”

“I can go find him,” she offered.

“I can ask Omar to send him over—”

“No, let me go,” she insisted, and hurried away before he could protest again. If she just kept her head down and kept working, she’d erase Singapore.

When she reached the garage, both cars were surrounded by mechanics, but Harry was not with them. “Omar, have you seen Harry? Paul needs him.”

“Getting lunch,” Omar said without looking up.

Out in the paddock, the sun was at its apex, and the strip of asphalt lined with team facilities was crowded with people. She was passing the Deloux team headquarters when she spotted him . During the past few weeks on the road, she’d managed to duck out of the way whenever he popped up, so while she’d seen him several times, he’d never seen her. Until today.

He was coming out of the Deloux team headquarters and paused at the top of a short set of metal steps. At that very moment, all the people around her suddenly evaporated, one cluster of guys peeling off to the left and another group of people stopping to duck into the Hansbach offices. Suddenly she was all alone in the middle of the blacktop, too far away from anything she could hide behind for cover.

His eyes scanned the crowd, passed her by, and then jerked back. Her stomach bottomed out and she froze. No matter how adept she’d become at avoiding him, especially since the hotel lobby in Bahrain, she’d known this would happen eventually. She’d practiced it in her mind, and nearly convinced herself that she’d be able to put up a good front.

But practicing it in her mind turned out to be useless when he was standing twenty feet away and looking directly at her. If he came over, if he spoke to her, she wasn’t sure how she’d handle it. Sweat beaded on her forehead, even though her skin felt clammy. Her heart was pounding so hard she could almost hear it.

Then the corner of his mouth twitched, almost a smirk, if he’d cared enough to make it one, and he looked away, already dismissing her from his notice. He jogged down the steps and disappeared into the crowd.

She couldn’t see him anymore, but she still couldn’t make herself move. Her lungs refused to fill with air, sucking the blood from every other part of her body until her hands and feet began to tingle. The constantly shifting sea of people was slowly whited out by the bright sunlight until she could hardly see anything at all.

“Mira?”

The familiar voice echoed through the roar of her pulse.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

She blinked and his face swam into focus in front of her. It was Will, ducking down to look at her. She’d managed to avoid him since Singapore and now he was there in front of her, exactly when she didn’t want him to be.

“I …” But her lungs were still trapped in a vacuum. Panic flooded in hot on the heels of everything else she’d been feeling. She dragged in one thin, wheezing breath, which only made her feel more lightheaded. The intense sun and sweltering heat pressed in on her from all sides like a suffocating blanket.

“Mira, you’re about to pass out.”

He was right. Her head felt disconnected from her body and everything had gone white, like an overexposed photo.

“Here, sit down.” He nudged her backward, stumbling, until her calves hit a set of fold-out steps leading up to someone’s portable office. She sank down on the hot metal. “Head between your knees,” Will directed, a gentle hand on the back of her head.

With her face in the darkness of her lap, things began to clear. His fingers gently swept her hair to the side and she sighed in relief as air hit the back of her neck. The horrible, pounding, racing heartbeat slowed and quieted. Her vision came back. Feeling returned to her hands and feet. When the swell of nausea had subsided, she raised her head. Will was crouched in front of her, worry filling his face.

“Will you be okay while I go for help?”

She reached out to grab his arm before he could rise. “I don’t need help.”

He brushed a lock of hair off her face, clammy with sweat. “You’re sick.”

“Not sick. It was a panic attack. Just give me a minute. I’ll be okay.”

“A panic attack?”

“I’ve had one before.” A handful of times. It had been years. Mortification made her cheeks flame, and she closed her eyes against it. Jesus, one look from that asshole and she reacted like that?

“Let me go get your dad.”

“No!” Her eyes flew open and she grabbed for him again. The last thing she needed was for her dad to get dragged back into this. Especially not now, when she was still trying to dig herself back out of a hole. “I’m really okay. I just need a second for my head to clear.”

Will shifted his weight to the balls of his feet and examined her skeptically. “What caused it?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Come on, Mira. That was not nothing. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Just a ghost from my past. He caught me by surprise.”

His eyes narrowed as he pieced it together. “The guy? He’s here ?” He swiveled around to look, but thankfully, there was no one for him to see. He was long gone.

“I guess I wasn’t as ready to deal with it as I thought.”

“Who is it?” His voice sounded tight, angry.

Her voice was still shaky, but she forced a small smile. “No way am I telling you, Hawley.”

He blew out a frustrated breath. “Are you sure you don’t want me to get your dad?”

“Absolutely sure. I have to find Harry and—”

“Bullshit. You’re going back to the Lennox offices and you’re going to get something to drink and you’re going to sit down in the air con.”

“God, you’re bossy.”

He put the back of his hand on her forehead and examined her face again, as though a panic attack might’ve caused a spontaneous concussion. “Right now I am. There’s no way you’re heading back into that crowd when you nearly passed out a minute ago. Come on, I’ll walk you back.”

Gently, she brushed his hand away from her face. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?” His eyes were as blue as the heat-baked sky behind him as he scowled at her. His thin blue Lennox polo shirt pulled taut across his shoulders and biceps. A few dark strands of his hair stuck to his forehead, and she clenched her hands against the impulse to brush them away.

“Because I yelled at you the last time I saw you. I’m sorry.”

He dropped his eyes to the tarmac and caught his lower lip in his teeth. “You were defending your boundaries. Don’t ever apologize for that.”

She sighed. “Will—”

Abruptly, he lifted his head and she was looking straight into those eyes, fringed by black lashes. She blinked, unable to look away. “Look, Mira,” he said, brushing his fingertips along the side of her hand. “I like you. That’s no secret. And I can’t seem to stay away from you. I want you. I guess that’s no secret, either. I know you have your reasons to stay away from me, and I will respect them. But you should know that’s how I feel.”

Oh.

She could like him. She could like him so very much. But the last fifteen minutes had reminded her why she shouldn’t. Couldn’t.

“Thank you.” Those words felt entirely insufficient, but they were all she had to offer.

“I mean it.”

“Where are you coming from?” She was desperate to change the subject before her heart said something her brain didn’t approve of.

“I had a press event with Velocity. Heading over to suit up now.” Velocity was one of his sponsors, a huge sportswear company. Will had done an ad for them a year ago—a stark black-and-white photo featuring him in a pair of loose-fitting Velocity basketball shorts and nothing else—that had become a minor viral internet sensation even before the buzz of this season had started. She might have it secretly bookmarked in her browser. “Lucky for you, I saw you just before you went down.”

“Lucky for me.” Her voice was far too weak, far too wistful for her liking. “You’d better go. Dad will want you there early.”

“Not without you.” Will stood and reached a hand down to her. “Come on. You need to get out of this sun.”

She took his hand, trying her best to ignore the warmth, the tingles, the desire to grab hold and not let go. He pulled her to her feet and she released him as soon as she was steady.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin, determined to sweep that pesky ghost of her past back into the dark, dusty corners of her memories where he belonged. And to keep this flesh and blood temptation from her present at a safe distance where he belonged. “Yes. I’m just fine.”