Page 49 of Start Your Engines

“There was unrest in the offices recently. One rumour was that you were fired.”

“I’m fully in. Boss Coulter has believed in me since I joined the team, and I wouldn’t be on the podium without her. She’s the best team boss I’ve ever had.”

My skin flushes at his words and how his big blue eyes stare into the camera as he licks his lips. It doesn’t mean anything, and he’s an arse, but I still find myself rubbing my fingers together at the memory of holding his face between my hands.

“So what do you say?” Jacs asks.

“Huh?” I turn to her, still side-eying the interview. My stomach flips as I stare at Connor’s baby blues and smug grin.

“We need to celebrate tonight. We could go to a bar or go dancing. I’ll ask my sister. She won the F2 race earlier, and she’s always up for a night out. You’re coming, right?” I nod absentmindedly as Connor winks at the camera. My neck tingles. “Awesome. I’ll let the crew know. Now, let’s get to the trophy podium ceremony.”

I remind myself not to become mesmerised by Connor’s face or the way he’ll have champagne poured over him by competitors as I grab my phone. I’ll be wholly professional, and there will be no sign of my swirling emotions.

Jacs babbles as she waits for me, “I’ll get Jimmy to book us hotel rooms in London where the other teams are staying. I’ll let Connor know once he’s finished. He’ll totally be up for it.”

She’s right. He’ll definitely want to come, and I’ve already agreed, so I can’t get out of it. It’s just a work night out. Nothing can happen.

My stomach flips again, and my mouth goes dry as scenarios play on a loop.

I arrive late to the bar.

Since the race, I’ve endured meetings with Antoine and his dad about putting Antoine first, spending more on his training and not allowing “that boy Connor to disrupt Antoine’s career, or else.” Threats mean nothing to me, but it left me overthinking how I need to go this alone and remain professional with Connor.

I yank down the hem of the slinky silver dress Jacs left for me in my hotel room while I was working. The dress is bad enough, but she’s paired it with black heels that are going to destroy my feet.

The bouncers let me in and point me in the direction of the roped-off VIP area. I’m in no rush to get to the group, although I want to congratulate Connor face-to-face. It will be a friendly “well done.”

My skin heats at the prospect of being close to him. I stop at the bar and neck a shot of tequila. My driver nearly threw me out of the car when I couldn’t stop tapping my feet against the floor. It’s just Connor, for goodness sake.

As I step closer to the VIP area, the alcohol giving me the slightest buzz because I’m a lightweight who hasn’t had time to eat, I see him. He’s wearing black chinos. His long-sleeved grey top clings to his muscles. It’s a simple outfit, especially compared to my dress, but I lick my lips. He’s speaking with Jacs’s sister, Tawny. Her auburn hair falls in waves across her shoulders, and she tucks it back as she listens intently to whatever Connor is saying. I purse my lips as she throws her head back and laughs. Her lips are so full, whereas mine are thin, and she’s slim like I was when I raced.

She’s also an incredible person. She’s raced in Formula Two for nearly four years, yet no team’s given her the opportunity to race for them in Formula One. She does things for charity and she’s lovely to everyone.

But I want to grab Connor, pull him away from her, and say he’s my friend and not hers. It’s like I’m five years old and in the sandbox with my Barbie. I shake my head and turn away. I down another shot and walk towards the door, speed-dialling my driver. I shouldn’t have come here tonight. I could be at the hotel in thirty minutes with Netflix and junk food.

A warming breath caresses my neck.

“Where do you think you’re going? I haven’t had my ‘well-done’ hug yet, Coults.” I close my eyes and swallow before turning.

It’s just Connor, your driver and brother’s best friend.

But when I meet his sparkling blue eyes and admire his upturned lips, I’m sucker-punched.

He holds his hand in the air as if to touch my hair before fisting his hand. His dark spice scent is heady, and I lick my lips. He watches my tongue slide over the red lipstick I added in the car.

“Well done,” I say, my voice raspy as he stares at my lips. “You did brilliantly.”

I lean closer, and he envelopes me in a hug. His hands warm my back, and his spicy aftershave makes my skin burn with possibility. He whispers, “It was all for you, Coults. Thank you for believing in me.”

I press against him. My body tingles. He’s all muscle, and I can barely resist clinging to him. I’m pulsing with need as he holds me tight. His scent is like a shot of sensuality, and his hum is so deep my toes curl.

Oh shit.

I have a crush on Connor fucking Dane.

CHAPTER 23

Connor

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