Page 35 of Drive To Survive

I pressed the backs of my knuckles to her cheek and grimaced. Damn, she was still burning up, yet her body trembled, shivers running through her. I fetched an extra blanket and laid it gently over her, then walked into the bathroom. I turned on the faucet until the water ran cold. Rinsing a facecloth underneath, I wrung it out, then returned to Everly and placed it over her forehead. She stirred but didn’t wake.

Shuffling the chair I’d slept in closer to the bed, I collapsed into it. Fuck. How had this happened? One day, a happy bachelor. The next, my sanctuary had been invaded by a beautiful woman and her six-year-old kid.

Except I hadn’t been happy. I’d barely existed, moving blindly from one day to the next. The racing school grounded me, gave me a purpose, but happy? No, I couldn’t use that term to describe myself.

Yet now, sitting here, I noticed the tension that’d ridden me for the past few years had receded. Maybe I needed this, the chance to think of someone else whose problems were far worse than my own instead of wallowing in a pit of self-despair. This quiet moment in the dead of night gave me an opportunity to reflect, forcing me to acknowledge that the black moods, which had dogged me since my accident, had grown less and less frequent these past few weeks. Since Everly marched into my office and demanded I reassure her that Rhett would be safe taking a place in PFK’s program. And then when I’d met him, somehow that broken little boy who blamed himself for his father’s cowardly abandonment had cracked open my heart and allowed hope to flood in.

I’d always miss racing—the adrenaline rush, the thrill of hurtling around a track and risking your very existence for a shot at a win—but Rhett and Everly had forced me to acknowledge that there was a life outside of racing, and if I opened my eyes wide enough, it was mine for the taking.

Everly whimpered, shoving at the covers keeping her warm. I stood and pulled them back over her.

“Shh.” I stroked her hair. “You’re okay.”

“Nico?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Go back to sleep.”

“Thirsty.”

“Okay, hang on.” I picked up the jug of water I’d prepared last night and poured her a glass, adding a straw. “Here.” I held the straw to her lips, and she took a few sips, then flopped back against the pillows, the small amount of movement wiping her out.

“What are you doing here?” she mumbled, her eyes closed.

“I live here.”

She rolled her head to the side and half opened her eyes. “What?”

“You’re at my house. I brought you here yesterday, remember?”

She frowned and then struggled to sit up. “Rhett.”

I pressed my palm against her shoulder until she lay back down. “He’s fine. He’s asleep. I’ve got this, Everly, okay? Stop panicking.”

She ran her tongue over her lips, then swallowed. “Why are you helping me?”

If she weren’t so ill, I’d have made some inappropriate joke along the lines of hoping for sexual favors, but now wasn’t the time to tease her.

“I’m paying it forward,” I said. “Now do as you’re told and go back to sleep.”

She sighed, and seconds later her eyes closed and her breathing slowed. I felt better now that I’d managed to speak to her. I tiptoed across the room, closing the door quietly behind me. I checked on Rhett. He’d thrown the bedcovers on the floor and was lying on his front, one leg stuck out at a right angle and his pajama bottoms had ridden halfway up his thigh. A twinge plucked at my chest. I could love this kid so easily. I’d never considered being a father. It wasn’t that I found the idea particularly disconcerting, but for so many years, the racing circuit had consumed my life, and while I’d had more than my fair share of women, I’d never come across one I wanted to have more than a few dates with, let alone settle down and start a family with.

But with her…

Maybe a few dates wouldn’t be enough.

I left Rhett’s door ajar and went downstairs. While I waited for the coffee to brew, I checked my phone. Tate had texted an hour or so ago. He must be up early to catch his flight back to London.

Tate: How’s Everly?

I tapped out a reply. Not too bad.

Tate: That’s good. Heading to the airport soon. Madison asked me remind you that if you need anything, to call her.

Thanks bud. Safe travels and good luck with the race. Talk soon.

I tossed my phone on the counter and added cream to my coffee then wandered into the backyard. Dawn wasn’t far off, but the sun hadn’t yet kissed the horizon, and the soothing sound of crickets filled the air. The wind was nonexistent, and I anticipated another hot day. California was enjoying a hot start to autumn. The temperature had topped ninety degrees for the past week, a good ten degrees higher than normal for this time in September.

I waited until seven o’clock, then went back upstairs to check on both Everly and Rhett. Everly remained fast asleep. The facecloth I’d placed on her forehead had dried out. I ran it under the faucet again. When I put it back, she didn’t even stir or murmur.

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