Page 66 of Start Your Engines

“I’m here for you always.”

Even as fears form a lump in my throat and wolves howl in my head, telling me to change my mind, there’s something intense growing in my chest. It’s hope and something extra Ican’t label because only platonic thoughts are safe in relation to my boss.

I park, and she climbs out of the car. Her shorts nearly reveal the bottom of her butt.

And there go the platonic feelings.

By the day’s end, I’m sitting on the sofa under a blanket with Senna and a movie that lights up her face.

She fell asleep an hour ago. She insisted on staying and ensuring Fluffers was okay. Her mouth parts, and her lips draw me closer. I remember the taste of cranberry that lingered in my dreams after our night at the bar. I added mango lip balm to my shopping request to have her scent when panic overwhelmed me.

I’m either a psychopath or lovesick.

Today, we became good friends again, and that’s all we can be. We haven’t discussed what happened that night in the bar, and as far as I’m concerned, it remains a blip. Like I said to her in the car, I’m not going anywhere even though it’ll be torture being around her permanently.

Senna shifts in her sleep, and a waft of orange blossom covers me.

“I want to kiss her forehead and hold her in my arms,” I whisper to Fluffers, who stretches in my lap, reminding me he’s the only one who can have my attention.

I glance at Senna. That’s the final straw for Fluffers. He throws me a death stare, jumps off my lap, and strolls to the bedroom on his healed paw. That’s where I should go, but I don’t want to wake Senna. If I could watch her sleep for the rest ofmy life, it would be nearly complete. Just one thing would be missing.

She moans in her sleep, and my dick gets harder than a rock. That thing. I want to kiss her, to bring her pleasure she’s never known. I want to obliterate Mr. Dickhead Vet and every other guy lucky enough to touch her. None of them deserve her.

And neither do I.

I’m a failing driver who’s made promises I don’t know how to keep. Doing anything with her would destroy my friendship with Niki forever. And yet, as she snuggles up to me in her sleep, my arm falls around her. Her chest presses against me, and my lips brush her forehead. I thread my fingers through her hair and whisper promises to her. Eventually, my head tips back, and I close my eyes, praying I’ll dream of a life where I can be with my Senna.

CHAPTER 33

Senna

The battleon screen between Ayrton Senna and Alain Prost continues. Over the last three days, Connor and I have watched countless races featuring greats like Michael Schumacher, Graham Hill, and Lewis Hamilton.

Connor grips my hand. “I used to watch these races with my mum on Sunday afternoons while she rushed in and out preparing dinner.”

I want to run my knuckles against his freshly shaved jaw. “And that was where you discovered your love of driving?”

His eyes twinkle as he catches my gaze. “That’s where I discovered my love of adrenaline.”

My stomach thuds. He has no idea how sexy he is when he says things like this. My stare grazes his forearms, which flex as the rivals force each other to drive increasingly dangerously. I catch the bottom of his Silverstone track tattoo and barely resist tracing it with my fingers. Over the last three days, we’ve been working on Operation Get Connor Driving. But all it’s done is make me want him more.

“I remember when you were thirteen. You were fearless on the track.” We’re sitting closer on the sofa than we should be if I don’t want weird drunk-on-Connor feelings. His thigh is flushagainst mine. Every movement means his body presses against me. It’s doing a number on my nipples, which push against my lace bra. He has no idea what he does to me.

It’s been like this for three days, as we barely leave each other’s side during the day while playing computer games and entertaining Fluffers.

My legs open wider as if my hormones control my body. “I’m guessing your crashes stopped the adrenaline,” I stammer.

“I can find adrenaline in other things.” He side-eyes me.

Images of being under Connor as he owns my body flash. If our kiss, which still sneaks into my dreams, is anything to go by, I’m not surprised. My body heats, and I rake my lips with my teeth. Time together has worsened my feelings for him. It’s not just the desperation to kiss him again. It’s everything. My teenage heart is alive for the first time in years, and she wants to cuddle while listening to Taylor Swift on repeat. Meanwhile, my adult side wants to jump his bones.

He flips his cap so it’s facing backwards. His knuckles are tight, and I reprimand myself for being horny when he’s suffering.

He clears his throat. “But it’s not just that I’m scared of driving. It’s that I don’t love it anymore.”

I gasp and cover my mouth. “You don’t love driving? But I’ve let you drive my car twice.”

He laughs and shoves me. His touch makes my skin burn, and I swear he stares at my legs as I tuck them under me. It’s nice to be back in my shorts and T-shirts. I glance out of his bay windows. All these touches make me want to dive into the lake and cool myself off.

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