Page 109 of Cross the Line
Despite the distraction, I don’t miss the way his fork is headed for my plate again. Hmm. It’s a tempting offer. And as delicious as Chava’s French toast is, I’d much rather be eating those right now.
I nudge my plate closer to him. ‘Fine. But we’re going to get them as soon as you’re finished eating.’
‘Deal,’ he says, already spearing a piece. ‘I’m taking you on another date too.’
‘Oh yeah?’ I ask, my heart doing a silly little tumble in my chest. ‘What do you have in mind this time? Did you rent out another house for me?’
‘Well, as luck would have it . . . I’ve rented out three.’
I laugh and push him away as he shoves another piece of French toast in his mouth. ‘That doesn’t count, since you didn’t do it specifically for me.’
‘Damn, all right, so picky.’ He finishes off what’s left on my plate before sliding onto the barstool next to mine. ‘Since we’re still trying to keep everything semi-secret, doing too much in public isn’t really an option. Are you okay with that?’
For now, I am. I don’t mind our relationship staying private. All the important people already know, and that’s what matters. But eventually, I’m going to want more. I’m going to want to show him off and gush about him to whoever will listen. Though while things are still new, we can keep this contained to our little world.
‘I’m okay with it,’ I answer, leaning in to kiss a bit of syrup off his bottom lip. It’s just as sweet as he is. ‘I don’t mind you being my little secret.’
His grin is sharp as he drops his fork and loops an arm around my waist, pulling me and my barstool closer. ‘Can I be yourdirtylittle secret?’
‘You can be whatever you—’
‘Oh, come the fuck on,’ Chava groans from across the island, tossing his spatula down. ‘I love the two of you together, don’t get me wrong, but I am too hungover to witness your gross shit this morning. Take it elsewhere.’
There’s a sly spark in Dev’s eyes. ‘Should we take this upstairs, then?’ he murmurs.
‘For a little while,’ I reply, grasping his T-shirt. ‘But you owe me macarons.’
His lips find mine as Chava swears in the background, but I’m too lost in the kiss to bring myself to care. This moment is too perfect for anything to ruin it.
‘Whatever you want, jaanu,’ Dev says when he pulls back, nothing but love in his eyes. ‘I’ll give it all to you.’
EPILOGUE
One month later, September – Singapore
Dev
As a city, I love Singapore. But its weather can get fucked.
‘I hate to say that it’s hot as balls out here,’ Chava says, panting, as we make our way from the hospitality suite to the garage, ‘but my balls arehot, and I swear the air’s the same temperature. I think I’m sweating through my pants. Shit,am Isweating through my pants?’ He contorts his body, attempting to look over his shoulder so he can assess his backside in his navy Argonaut shorts.
‘Until you’re the one wearing the fireproof suit and sitting in a car for hours, you don’t get to complain,’ I grumble, giving him a once-over without slowing. ‘And you don’t have crack sweat.’
He turns back around, beaming. ‘Thanks for checking out my ass.’
‘Please never say that again.’
Once we’re in the garage, he slaps me on the back and wishes me well in the race before sauntering to his designated spot in the back with the other non-engineering team members. Out of habit, my focus lingers on the space, even though Willow isn’t there. By now, she’s standing in a similar spot in the Scuderia D’Ambrosi garage.
Even after two races of her working for them, it’s still strange to see her in head-to-toe D’Ambrosi red, but there’s no denying that she looks incredible in the colour. She spent the last week of the summer break in Italy at the team’s headquarters, getting things together so she could jump into working for Reid. She called me multiple times a day while we were apart with every new update that excited her, and I was more than happy to answer each time.
Thisis the form of long-distance I can handle. Moving in the same sphere, being close enough that we can spend our nights and days off together. If I can’t have her directly by my side, then being at opposite ends of the paddock is a compromise I’ll take. The knowledge that she’s only ever a few yards away brings me peace in the madness.
And said madness begins the second I climb into the car.
Thanks to some truly ridiculous penalties several drivers picked up in qualifying and a handful of cars starting from the pit lane due to needing modifications, I’m starting from sixth on the grid. It’s still wild to sit in a third-row box, but next year, it won’t be out of the norm. Unless Mascort absolutely tanks their car in development over the winter, it’ll be rare for me to start further back than where I am now. It’s a fucking dream, and it’s going to come true so, so soon.
I flex my fingers around the steering wheel as I wait for the drivers behind me to pull into their spots. Up ahead, Zaid is on pole with Axel next to him, the classic set-up. Otto is directly in front of me in fourth, with Lorenzo to his left. Beside me sits Thomas in the McMorris, and behind is Reid. He took a penalty for impeding another driver on a flying lap, even though he really had no place on the track to go in order to get out of the way in time.
