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)
CHAPTER 23
Lara
The Zurich night air is crisp as we walk the quiet street toward Reid’s apartment. My hand is tucked inside his, fingers laced, and it’s not odd at all. Maybe one day I’ll admit to Reid that when I was just twelve, I had the biggest crush on him. It was innocent and he only looked at me as his surf buddy. But I used to daydream about being his girlfriend and us walking the beaches hand in hand, just as we’re doing now in this beautiful, old-world city.
Back then, I could never have dreamed that it would be as good as it is now. That it’s better than I had ever imagined. It makes me a little breathless, like I’m that smitten twelve-year-old or I’m fifteen again and crushing hard after our first kiss—but this time, the story’s only beginning and everything ahead of me has unlimited possibility.
We’re not talking—just exchanging little glances, content in the day spent with one another. Earlier, we toured Matterhorn’s headquarters top to bottom—an unexpectedly personal experience that left me in awe not just of the team, but of how deeply embedded Reid is in this world.
Afterward, we spent the afternoon exploring the quieter corners of the city, wandering through the Kunsthaus Museum, grabbing lunch at a riverside café, ducking into antique bookstores and window-shopping along narrow lanes.
It wasn’t glamorous. It was real. Easy. The kind of day that folds itself into my memory and will live there forever.
We ended it with dinner at Reid’s favorite place, tucked into the lower floor of an old sandstone building in his neighborhood. A restaurant without a sign, the waitstaff knew him by name but didn’t fawn over him. The food was spectacular—wild mushroom risotto, handmade pasta and a bottle of red. Everything about it was quiet luxury.
The city is going to sleep around us now as storefronts close their shutters. Tomorrow starts the new week and Reid will be focused on getting ready for Suzuka. That race is one week away.
“You tired?” he asks as we reach his building.
“A little,” I reply as he opens the door, and I precede him. “It was a big day.”
“How about we crawl into bed and watch a movie?”
“That sounds divine,” I say, turning to face him as the door to the lobby closes behind us.
“C’mere,” he murmurs, brushing a thumb along my cheek.
I smile, walk right into him. His lips meet mine softly, unhurried, familiar now. His hands hold my face and my head spins as it always does when he kisses me.
“What the fuck is this?”
The menacing voice cuts through the stillness like a whip and I jerk away from Reid as I recognize my nightmare. Reid takes my hand and steps forward, putting me slightly behind him as we both turn to find Lance rising from a lobby chair. I’m stunned and can’t figure out for the life of me why he’s in Zurich. Did someone tell him that I was here with Reid? Surely not our parents. They promised they wouldn’t.
His eyes flick to our joined hands and his expression twists. Hurt, disbelief, fury—all colliding into something that nauseates me.
“Lance—” I start, but Reid’s hand squeezes mine. Not hard, but a clear and silent warning not to engage.
The man I thought I would marry one day is unrecognizable. His mouth curls into a vicious snarl, his eyes ice cold and pinned right on me. “Were you already screwing my brother while we were together? Is that why you left?”
“You better watch your fucking mouth,” Reid growls, and I’ve never heard him sound so… so… enraged before. I glance around, quickly noting the lobby is at least empty and no one is here to witness this. He points a finger at Lance. “She never cheated on you. She’s not like you.”
Lance’s eyes flash with blazing hatred toward his brother and it kills me to see that.
“Maybe not,” Lance sneers as he comes toward us and I’m unable to tear my eyes away from his. “But from where I’m standing, it looks like you went from my fiancée to his little toy in what—a few days?”
“Don’t do this,” Reid warns in a low rumble. He releases my hand and nudges me farther behind him.
Lance laughs, bitter and sharp, ignoring his brother and staring straight at me. “Jesus Christ, Lara. You’re a goddamn slut.”
The word hangs in the air like a slap, sharper than what I felt on my face by his hand.
And then Reid moves. In a blur, he’s got a fistful of Lance’s shirt and his other fist is cocked back. It comes across in a roundhouse, catching Lance on his left cheekbone with a sickening crack.
Reid releases his hold and Lance stumbles back, crashing into a potted plant but doesn’t go all the way down. He staggers, shakes his head and then charges at Reid like a bull. He looks wild, unhinged, overflowing with rage.