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)
“I’m not in Torquay right now,” I say, and realize my mistake before the words get fully out of my mouth.
“Where are you?”
Fuck. I should have just said no.
I hesitate. My pulse kicks up. I cannot let him know I’m in Monaco. He can’t find out about me and Reid on the heels of me calling it quits with him. He’d never understand.
“I have to go,” I say quickly. “I’ll reach out when I’m back.”
“Lara—”
But I’ve already disconnected the call.
I stare at the screen, the aftermath of it settling over me.
It’s done.
And yet, I know it’s not completely done until I face him in person. Until I sit across from him and say it all without flinching. But for now… calling him was a step in the right direction.
I stand and walk slowly back toward the apartment, past the yachts and the glitter and the curated perfection of a city built on unimaginable wealth.
Maybe I don’t know exactly where I belong.
But I know one thing… it’s not in the past anymore.
CHAPTER 20
Reid
I unlock the apartment and push open the door with my shoulder as I shrug out of my jacket. I don’t do ties, but the Armani gray suit I’d paired with a fitted, blue button-down underneath was sharp enough for the sponsor meetings today. I’m late but not enough to make it a mad, hectic dash to the airport.
Meetings ran long. Sponsors wanted more face time. One last-minute interview turned into a photo op. It’s been one of those days where everyone wants something from me and all I want is five damn minutes to breathe. Preferably with Lara in the room.
The moment I step inside and see her, the tension in my neck eases.
She’s by the kitchen island, dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved fitted tee, and an effortless glow—fresh-faced and easy like the city finally agrees with her, and she hasn’t had to try at all. Her suitcase is zipped and upright beside her, ready to go.
“You’re packed,” I say, moving toward her… actually, right into her for a long kiss.
She makes no effort to break away and if we’re going to make it to the airport in time, I’ll have to be the responsible one. I press my lips to her forehead and release my hold on her. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be packed too.”
Lara follows me into the room and I grab my suitcase from the closet, tossing it on the bed. I start pulling shirts from hangers, mentally sorting what I’ll need in Japan next week for the race. I also have a partial wardrobe in my Zurich apartment, so I’m not taking too much.
“What time’s our flight?” she asks, casually sitting on the edge of the bed as I start to haphazardly roll clothes before tossing them in the suitcase.
Lara makes a distressed sound in her throat and immediately takes the garments back out, neatly folding them into perfect squares.
“We need to be at the hangar by five,” I say, taking a folded shirt she offers and placing it carefully into the suitcase under her watchful eye. “It’s a private jet, so no security line nonsense. We’ll be in Zurich by dinnertime.”
Silence. My gaze drifts over to her and she’s holding a gray cashmere sweater in a tight grip. “Private jet?”
She’s staring at me like I just told her we were going to teleport there via gold-plated unicorn.
“Uh… yeah,” I say slowly, my mouth curving into an amused smile. “It’s how I usually travel throughout Europe. Cuts down on time, especially with layovers.”
Her eyebrows rise, and I can tell she’s trying to process. “So… the gala, the Ferrari, the private jet… that’s not just for show while I’m visiting?”
I shake my head. “No. This is my life now. It’s not all champagne and rooftops, but yeah… sometimes it’s private jets and three-hundred-thousand-dollar cars. It kind of hit all at once when I signed with Matterhorn, so if it helps, this is all new to me as well.”
She lets out a soft laugh—more surprised than amused. “You’re so different from the Reid I knew.”
I move to her, closing the space between us, gently chiding her. “You know I’m not. I’m just… richer.”
“I’m sorry,” she says with a heavy sigh, folding the sweater in her hand. I take it from her and place it in the luggage. “All this wealth is just overwhelming. You know that’s not how we grew up and to suddenly see you so settled within it, it’s a little jarring.”
My brows furrow. “Do you think it changed me?”
Lara startles, adamantly shaking her head. “No, of course not. You’re still the same Reid who steals my chips when I’m not looking. I bet you still have the same playlist on your phone that you made in high school.”
She’s not wrong about that and I’m relieved that my wealth doesn’t seem to be a deal-breaker because I’d give it all away before I let her go.