Revved (34 page)

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Authors: Samantha Towle

BOOK: Revved
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“Start from the beginning?” My brows pull together.

“Yeah. It could be like we just met for the first time. Forget everything that has happened and start fresh.”

“Oh.” I don’t want to forget a moment of anything with him. Even the bad stuff. “Why?” I ask quietly.

He takes another step closer. The space between us is marginal now. I can smell his aftershave…
feel
him. My body starts to ache with need.

“Because I’ve come to realize that I’d rather have you in my life…than not at all.” He blows out a breath, giving me hopeful eyes. “So, what do you say?”

Even though it stings that he just wants to erase our past like it doesn’t matter, I know I have no right to feel that way. And I can’t turn down the chance to have him in my life again.

I hold my hand out. “Hi, I’m Andi Amaro.”

He glances down at my hand, a smile touching his eyes. When he takes hold of my hand, I feel those familiar sparks I always feel whenever he touches me, but this time, I feel an ache so deep that it burns into my bones.

Somehow, I manage to hold myself together.

“Carrick Ryan,” he says. “It’s nice to meet you, Andi.”

“Actually, call me Andressa.” I smile. “This guy I knew, the best guy ever, always insisted on calling me by my full name.”

Lightness flickers in his gaze. “Sounds like a smart guy.”

“He is.”

“Okay, Andressa it is.”

Slipping his hand from mine, he turns to my dad’s car. Taking it in for the first time, he lets out a low whistle. “Wow, William Wolfe’s car. I’ve heard about it, but I’ve never seen it in the flesh. Fucking stunning. Does it still run? Do you know?”

“I don’t think so.” I sadly shake my head. “They generally take the engines out of these classics to keep them pristine.”

“Shame. Car like this should be driven.”

“I know, right? It’s such a waste for it to just sit around, not being used. He would have hated that.”

Carrick looks back at me, questioning.

And I realize my slip up.
Shit.

“I mean, I’m guessing he would have because no racing driver would want to see his car sitting around, not being used, right?” I’m fidgeting, so I fold my arms over my chest.

“Right.” He looks back to the car, staring at it. “This is your favorite type of car, too, right? The Jaguar XK120 M Roadster.”

He remembered.

“Yes,” I say slowly.

“Hmm,” he says.

Hmm. What does that mean?

He’s staring at the car still, and I’m starting to feel a little jittery. Worried that maybe he’s beginning to tie things together.

So, I decide it’s time to make my exit, and really, I should leave him to it. I don’t want to push this too far, ruin this even ground we’ve just found.

Stepping back, I say, “So…I’m gonna go look around. It was great bumping into you…and you know, sorting things out.” I offer a smile. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Andressa,” he calls me back.

My body tightens and yearns to reach for him.

As I turn, he’s already moving toward me. “Do you…” He pauses, rubbing a hand over his hair. He looks nervous, which is odd because Carrick never gets nervous. “Would you mind if I come look around with you?”

I hold my breath as my heart leaps into my throat.

I know I said I didn’t want to push things with him, but him asking to be around me right now is a whole different ball game.

“Of course not.” I press my lips into a sincere smile, ignoring the bumpity-bump in my heart at the sight of his face relaxing into that amazing smile of his.

I’M IN MY APARTMENT
, finally home. We’re back for the British Grand Prix, which starts in a few weeks. We arrived in England yesterday afternoon, and I now have five days off work before I’m back at Rybell.

I plan on sleeping for four of those five days. All of the traveling and late nights spent working and partying have caught up with me.

I saw Carrick the night before we all left to come home. I was in the hotel bar on my own. Petra had already left, and Carrick was coming back in the hotel. He saw me, came over, and sat down to join me, and we had a drink together in the bar. I had to stop myself from remembering the last time we were together in a hotel bar.

It wasn’t an easy memory to erase.

But that’s what I’ve been trying to do, just like he asked. And we’re doing okay.

Do I still have feelings for him?

Yes.

Do I still want to rip his clothes off his body each time I see him?

Absolutely.

But that gets us nowhere. So I’m focusing on the fact that we’re talking, and I’m happy to have him in my life again even if there is a sense of awkwardness between us.

At times, it’s almost like we’re treading water, figuring out how to be around one another again.

And it’s like he knows I’ve been thinking about him because my phone lights up with his name.

“Hi,” I answer.

“Hey.” His Irish lilt bleeds down the line, making my belly flip. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good. You?”

“Yeah, good. Look, I was wondering if you’re free this afternoon. I’ve just…I’ve got something I want to show you.”

“Sounds ominous. But, yeah, sure, I’m free.”

“Really?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” I laugh.

“I don’t know. I thought you might be busy or something.”

“The only thing I’m busy with right now is a bar of chocolate.”

“Which chocolate?”

“Galaxy, of course.” I smile.

He makes a moaning sound, and it practically has my toes curling.

“Do you want a moment alone with my bar of chocolate? I can put it on the phone if you want. I have FaceTime.”

He barks out a laugh. “Nah, I’m good.”

“So, what is this thing you want to show me anyway?”

“You’ll see.”

“Aw, come on! You can’t leave me hanging. Just tell me.”

“You won’t be hanging long. I’ll be there to pick you up in half an hour.”

“Then, you’ll tell me when you see me.”

“No.” He laughs. “Thirty minutes, Amaro. Be ready to go.”

I glance down at the state of my unshowered-still-in-my-pajamas self. “Actually, can you make it forty? I need to get dressed.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re naked right now.”

“No!” I blush.

“Thank fuck. I’d have had to drive faster if you were.”

“Oi!” I chastise playfully, liking that we seem to be getting over the awkwardness and getting back to us.

“Forty minutes and not a second later.”

And then, he’s gone, and I’m leaping from the sofa, making a dash for the shower.

I’m dressed in skinny jeans and a T-shirt, hair down and almost dry, rubbing balm onto my lips when I hear a car horn beep.

Going over to my window, I open it up and see a hot-as-sin red Lamborghini parked in front of my building.

Carrick pokes his head out of the window, grinning up at me.

“Two minutes.” I signal to him.

Running around my apartment, I get my jacket, bag, and phone. I grab the bar of chocolate I bought yesterday while thinking of Carrick and shove it in my bag.

I let myself out of my apartment, lock up, and run down the stairs, exiting my building.

“Sweet ride.” I whistle as I walk around his car, getting a good look at her.

She’s an Aventador LP 700-4 Pirelli Edition with a matte black roof and engine hood, so you can see the mechanics beneath. A thin red stripe runs along the black roof, linking her to the Pirelli brand. She’s brand-new, and there aren’t many of her around.

“How long have you had her?” I ask, sliding into the rich leather seat.

“Not long.”

I know they were announced at the start of the year, forecasting delivery for the summer, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d gotten the first one. He’s Carrick Ryan. Having him driving around in a brand-new car is every manufacturer’s dream, irrespective of the level of brand.

“She’s beautiful.” I run my hand over the dash.

“Yeah, she is.”

The tone in his voice turns my head to him. He’s looking at me. No, he’s
staring
at me.

I swallow nervously and then start rambling, “Six-point-five liter V-twelve engine, delivering six-ninety horsepower, with ISR transmission, pushrod suspension, and permanent all-wheel drive, right? I bet she handles like a dream.”

He’s smiling at me, his eyes all lit up. “She does.”

“She hits one hundred in two-point-nine seconds, right? Maxing out at three hundred and fifty kilometers per hour?”

“Mmhmm.”

“You had her up to top speed yet?”

“No, I haven’t had time to get her out on the track yet.”

“Cool. Well, I’d love to be there when you do.” Then, I quickly worry that maybe I’ve overstepped my boundaries with him. “You know, if I’m around or whatever.”

“We can take her out this week if you want?”

“Really?” I beam at him.

“Really.”

“Yay!” I clap my hands together, and he laughs at me.

“How can you be such a girl yet be so fucking cool with your car knowledge?”

“I’m just awesome. What can I say?” I shrug, grinning.

He’s staring at me again, and I’m starting to get hot.

“I brought you something,” I
announce a little too loudly, jolting us back to the now. I reach into my bag and pull out a brand-new bar of Galaxy Cookie Crumble.

“Fuck, has that got—”

“Cookie in it? Yep. You haven’t had it before?”

“No, and I’m wondering how the fuck not.” His eyes are all lit up like a little kid. “Have I told you lately how amazing you are?”

“Not lately,” I say, handing it over.

He rips it open and breaks some off, putting it into his mouth. Then, he starts making that moaning sound again, and I’m squirming in my seat.

Maybe bringing him the chocolate wasn’t the best idea. I’m currently jealous of a bar of Galaxy chocolate.

“Fuck…that’s good. You want some?” he offers me through a chocolaty mouthful.

“No, I’m good. Thanks. I wouldn’t want to deprive you of any.”

“Sorry.” He grins. “It’s just me and Galaxy have this thing. It’s pretty serious.”

“Clearly.” I give him a teasing smile and love the smile I get in return.

“Come on then,” he says, putting down the chocolate into the center console. “Let’s get moving.”

Putting the car in drive and stepping down on the gas, he roars down the street.

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