23. Eve

CHAPTER 23

EVE

I 'd come for revenge, to watch someone lose. Marco or Rafael. Either would do. Maybe they'd both lose, come in dead last. They'd be so busy trying to vanquish each other, they'd miss all the other cars flooding past them.

I'd come for revenge on the men who had wronged me. That, and to get away from New York. I'd had all I could take of my parents, of Gabriella, everyone trying to get me to smile. I didn't want to smile. I wanted to win.

I wanted Marco to win for me, like an old-timey knight, and then we'd ride off in his gleaming Audi. Ride into the sunset and?—

I kicked myself. No . I didn't want Marco. Gabriella had one thing right: I'd been a doormat too long. Let everyone but me decide who I was. Well, I knew who I wasn't, and I wasn't that girl. I wasn't somebody who let men disrespect me, who came crawling back for their crocodile tears. I was here for revenge, and for space to breathe.

The drivers were on the track, waving up at the stands. I sat down to hide myself. Marco couldn't see me. If he knew I was here, he'd think I'd forgiven him.

" Marco! " screamed someone. "Marco Barone!" The crowd strained forward, erupting in cheers. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my feed. If Marco did see me, I wouldn't be looking. I'd be bored on my phone, in my own world. My phone, which was buzzing right now in my hand, badges popping up, news alerts, socials. I tapped on a video, Marco and Rafael. Rafael laughing. Marco bunching his fists. Rafael saying something, then?—

I gasped. "Oh, my God!"

Marco lunged, frothing. Security came running. Rafael was still laughing, egging him on.

"What the hell?" I fished out my earbuds. Played the clip through again.

"I never lost—" said Rafael, then an engine roared, backfired. I cursed and scrolled back, but it was part of the clip. I strained to hear through it, but it was no use.

"You were stupid," growled Marco. "You walked away from—" More roaring. "—you could hope for or want in a person, you had all that and you threw it away. So if you want—" Static. Rafael's laughter.

"Projecting much? She break your heart? Guess even my castoffs, for someone like you?—"

Marco bellowed — no words, just rage. He flung himself forward and I scrolled back.

"You were stupid," he said again. "You walked away from… you could hope for or want in a person, you had all that and you threw it away. So if you want?—"

I scrolled back again.

"—you could hope for or want in a person, you had all that and you threw it away."

And again.

"—you could hope for or want in a person."

Me? He meant me? He was defending me? I leapt to my feet. I had to see him. I had to know why he'd swung for Rafael, if it was really about me or just his male ego. But the crowd was too dense, and bristling with placards. I couldn't see over them, couldn't squeeze through. Any minute, any second, he'd get in his car, and I might never know, had he really meant it?

All you could hope for or want in a person.

I pushed out my elbows, making myself pointy. My head spun and swirled with snapshots of Marco — shielding me from reporters, pulling me in for a kiss. Laughing his loudest at the comedy club. Under the stars outside San Gimignano, spinning his dreams for his family's old farm. Hadn't I glimpsed someone I hoped for and wanted? More than just glimpsed him. I'd been sure, so sure. Which was the real Marco, the sweet man I'd known? Or the one who'd compared me to some overripe peach?

I thrashed and I elbowed. I had to know. The crowd drew in around me then pulled apart, and in that instant I saw him, and our eyes met.

"Marco," I whispered.

He grinned like a toddler, pure joy. Relief. I felt my own joy rise and fizz in my chest, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst. He waved with both hands at me and his lips formed words, but whatever he said to me, the crowd drowned it out.

"Marco!" I screamed. "I need you to win this!"

He frowned, squinted up at me, and then he was gone, bodies surging in front of me to block off my view. The next thing I knew, I heard engines revving, shouting and cheering, and then they were off.

I'd seen Marco race before, but this time was different. It felt like our future hung on this race. Like Marco's dust-up with Rafael had been a declaration of war, and now they were dueling, and only one would survive. I knew that wasn't true, but somehow it felt true, and I perched breathless on the edge of my seat. I kept thinking of Marco the night we'd met, how he'd driven fast with me and I'd loved every moment. I'd never been afraid when Marco was driving. Always trusted his instincts. But I didn't trust Rafael.

They roared around a tight curve, their wheels almost touching. I cringed, anticipating the shriek of metal on metal. But their cars never bumped, and Marco fell back. Had I fallen for him right then, on our first ride together? Driving so fast I was pinned to my seat? Or, no — before that, when he'd reached across me. When he'd done up my seat belt, then smiled. Safety first. He'd always looked out for me, right up till the peach thing.

He knew what to do to put that smile on your face. Not only that, but he went out and did it. Don't you owe it to yourself to at least hear his side?

Maybe Gabriella was right. Maybe he'd panicked. Said the first stupid thing that popped into his head, and I just happened to roll up and hear it. Maybe he'd felt bad in the very next second, or right as he heard the words leave his mouth.

Maybe he's as scared as you are. You ever think of that? Maybe he's pulling back before you can dump him .

I had been scared. Terrified. I'd told Gabriella the same lie when she came to Milan, that I felt nothing for Marco. That we were fake. It had felt safer to bury my feelings, to keep them a secret even from myself. But, why would he be scared? No one said no to Marco.

You should talk to him.

Yes. Yes, I had to. But before I could do that, he had to finish his race. I bit my lip hard as he swung by again. Rafael was teasing him, driving like a fool. I could see what he was doing, trying to bait Marco. Trying to get him to join in his reckless antics. I willed Marco not to, not to please me. I'd been wrong, what I screamed at him, that I needed him to win. I didn't need that, only to hold him. Only to talk to him. To hear his voice. I needed him safe with me, then we'd work out the rest.

"Don't be stupid," I whispered. "Just finish. Come back."

Round and round went the race cars. The sun dipped in the sky. Red light glanced off windshields and burning chrome. I breathed the thick scent of melted rubber. My head spun, my eyes blurred — I'd forgotten to blink. Marco gunned through a turn to overtake Rafael. Rafael cut in front of him, suicidally close. I shrieked, covered my face. When no metal crunch came, I peeked through my fingers. They were baiting each other now, those two idiots, and I screamed at my idiot to quit, knock it off.

I love you, I thought, willing my heart to reach him. Come back to me safe. I'll listen. I promise.

The crowd rose up, cheering. I rose up with them. We screamed with one voice, caught up in the race. Marco tore out in front, so fast I almost missed it. He shot like a dart down the middle of the track, and a vision flashed through me, my knight on his horse. My knight riding home to me, the final stretch now. I wrung my hands, my heart in my throat. It always came down to these very last moments — every book, every movie, always the same. Just when you thought it was all in the bag, victory, vengeance, the joyous homecoming, that's when disaster struck. Every damn time.

I love you. Please. Please.

Marco sailed through the finish. I jumped, clapped, and cheered. I'd never felt so light, lighter than air. Light with relief, all my fear washed away.

"Marco," I called, though he couldn't hear me. "Marco, I'm here! Marco! Up here!"

I had to get down to him. Down to the track. Or, no, to the drivers' rooms. That's where I'd find him. I'd text him from there. Tell him, come find me. We'd talk, and then… and then, well, we'd see. I knew what I wanted, to fly into his arms. To be held through the night by him. To kiss him forever. But before I could do that, I had to be certain: had he called me back here because what we had was real? Or was it FOMO, or just competition? The need to possess what Rafael didn't?

I flew through the crowd and past the concession stands, scrambling my phone out. Soon, I would know. First, to unblock him?—

"Eve!"

I froze in my tracks. "Marco?"

My name came again, a huge, booming roar. A shout from a thundercloud, so loud it stunned me. I turned around, but I couldn't see him. I couldn't see anything from where I was standing.

" Marco! " I yelled.

Static screeched and I wobbled. Covered my ears. Then my name came again, and I stumbled toward it. My knight had come home, and he was calling for me.