Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“Oh,” she murmurs, now understanding the implications of how he demeaned her.
“I’ve heard Laurent’s been a douche to her,” I say. “It’s what women face in this sport.”
Lara grimaces. “And he’s the other Titans’ driver, right?”
“Yes,” Carlos and I answer at the same time.
“She handled it as best she could,” Carlos adds. “Professional as hell. But when your own chief engineer takes over and treats you like an intern, what choice do you have?”
Lara’s expression softens. “That’s awful. I can’t imagine being a woman in this field is easy.”
Carlos nods. “It’s not and it was a big deal for the Titans to hire her as their chief strategy engineer. Apparently, Voss made it his mission to drive her out. Said she cracked under pressure and Melbourne proved she couldn’t handle the job.”
I bark out a mirthless laugh. “Bullshit. That undercut would’ve worked. He blew it staying out.”
Carlos points a finger at me. “Exactly. But Bex took the fall. Apparently, Luca, their team principal, tried to talk her out of it, but she was done.”
There’s a moment of silence, the only sound the gentle crash of waves.
“I hate that for her,” Lara says.
Carlos sighs. “She deserved better. But from everything I’ve heard about Brienne Norcross, I’m guessing this isn’t over. She’s not going to let a team of arrogant bastards ruin one of the best strategists in the paddock. At least, that’s what everyone’s saying.”
“Christ, we sound like a bunch of gossiping old ladies,” I mutter, stretching my legs out before me.
Lara giggles, and the sound warms something in my chest. We fall into the kind of teasing rhythm that only comes with good friends—Carlos throwing in ridiculous stories about growing up in Mexico with six siblings, two dogs, and a grandmother who taught him to swear in three languages before he was twelve.
“That’s a big family,” Lara says, eyes wide.
“The biggest,” Carlos confirms with a chuckle. “No one could keep secrets. And forget about privacy—you so much as looked sad and five people were in your room asking what was wrong, bringing you snacks or trying to marry you off.”
She grins. “Sounds overwhelming.”
He shrugs. “Sounds like home. But I learned so much from my older siblings. Wouldn’t trade them for the world.”
Lara turns to me, playful but curious. “Remember when you tried to teach me to drive stick on your dad’s old truck and I stalled it seventeen times in a row?”
“Sixteen,” I correct. “I remember because I stopped counting after that.”
Carlos barks a laugh. “Please tell me there’s video.”
“Worse,” Lara says with an eye roll. “There’s a photo of me crying behind the wheel and Reid offering me a melting paddle pop as consolation.”
I nudge Lara’s leg with my own. “Hey, that Popsicle worked. You could always be cured with any type of sweet.”
She nudges me back, a flirty tilt to her lips.
“Oh my god,” Carlos groans. “You two are disgusting. It’s like I’m watching a romantic comedy that doesn’t know it’s a romantic comedy.”
Lara blushes and I smirk. I like that we’re obvious and I like that we don’t have to hide it… not sitting out here on the beach with my buddy.
Carlos gives us a long look, the humor fading slightly from his eyes. “You know,” he says, “I don’t say this lightly… but whatever this is? It works. Lara… I obviously don’t know you as well as Reid, but I know the real deal when I see it.”
Lara looks at me, startled. I stare back at her pointedly, because yeah… damn right, this is the real deal.
Carlos shrugs. “Don’t overthink it. Just… don’t run from it either.”
He stands and brushes sand off his board shorts, nods down the beach. “Can I buy us some beers over there?”
I glance at the tiny hut. “Sure thing, mate.”
“I’ll be back.”
Lara and I watch him walk off and she’s the first to say it. “He just left us so we’ll talk about what he said.”
Chuckling, I reach over and take her hand. “He’s like a wise old romance guru trapped in a twenty-six-year-old body.”
Lara tips her head back and laughs and I’m inspired to lean in and kiss her. She gasps, lets her tongue tangle with mine for a second and then leans away so her eyes can meet mine. “You think he’s right?” she asks.
I nod, not even pretending to hedge. “Yeah. I think he’s been right about a lot of things lately.”
She doesn’t answer but she doesn’t pull away either, so I kiss her again.
The sun hangs low in the sky now, and the surf rolls in slow, steady pulses. I’ve raced on five continents. I’ve faced down corners at 300 kilometers an hour. But this—sitting next to Lara, a little sunburned, a little wind-tousled, our fingers laced in the sand—this might be the bravest thing I’ve ever done.