Page 98 of Racing for Redemption
He checks the hallway before stepping out, then turns back to me. “See you at the airport?”
“See you there.”
After double checking the coast is clear, the door closes behind him, and suddenly, the room feels too large, too empty. I sink back onto the bed, his scent still lingering on the pillows.
What have I done?
Last night was supposed to resolve the tension between us, not amplify it. I was looking for release, for the simple pleasure of contact after too long without. What I found instead was something that felt dangerously close to connection. Attachment. Craving.
The way William touched me—like I was precious, like he was memorizing every inch of me. The way he looked at me—not just with desire, but with something deeper, something that made my chest tight, and my defenses weak.
It wasn’t just sex. Not for him.
And if I’m honest with myself, not for me, either.
I’ve been so careful for so long. Kept people at arm’s length. Focused on restoring Colton Racing to its former glory. Romance, intimacy—these were luxuries I couldn’t afford, distractions I didn’t need.
Then, William Foster came crashing into my life with his talent, and his tattoos, and his golden retriever enthusiasm that he shows off everywhere we go. But also with a care he tries so hard to hide from everyone but me.
You know what? I’m a coward for telling him to keep this casual.I’m not stupid. I may not have been dating in the past couple of years, but I have my experience. I can read him easily.
He clearly likes me.
The way his eyes sparkle. How he greeted me this morning.
He likes me.
And he accepted anything just to be around me when he clearly deserves good, caring and present love. Which I can’t give right now.
Good going, Violet, you’re gonna break this sweet guy’s heart.
I dress in comfortable clothes for the flight—khaki trousers, a simple shirt, and a leather jacket. Practical, professional. As I pack my bag, I notice William forgot his watch on the nightstand. An expensive-looking piece—quite vintage—sleek and understated. I slip it into my pocket, meaning to return it to him.
The airport is crowded, a swirl of travelers hurrying to gates, or lingering at shops. I spot William immediately. He’s wearing different clothes now—dark jeans, and a faded band T-shirt under an open button-down. His eyes find mine across the terminal, and a smile spreads across his face.
Before he can approach, Blake waves at me from near the check-in counters.Shit.I’d forgotten he was traveling to Dubai with me.
“Morning, Violet,” Blake calls as I approach. His gaze shifts to something over my shoulder, smelling like mango, and his smile falters slightly. “And William. Didn’t realize you were on this flight, as well.”
“It caught me by surprise! I thought the marketing department handed me flight tickets to go alone. This is still quite a long flight plan, because then I head to China for the triple header,” William replies smoothly, stopping beside me with a carefully professional distance between us. “But yeah, I have media stuff to do in Dubai.”
Blake’s gaze flicks between us, assessing. “Well, always good to have company on a long flight. And especially someone with this much energy, although Violet there looks a tad exhausted.”
We check in together, the three of us moving through security as a unit. Blake keeps up a steady stream of conversation about the upcoming meetings in Dubai, but his attention is focused on the way William and I interact—the carefully avoided glances, the deliberate space we maintain.
On the plane, I’m seated next to Blake, with William across the aisle. It’s both relief and torture—close enough to see him, too far to touch. Every time our eyes meet, a jolt of electricity courses through me, a reminder of what we shared last night.
“You seem distracted,” Blake observes quietly as the flight takes off.
“Just thinking about the prospective sponsor meetings. It's been bugging me lately.”
He makes a noncommittal sound. “Anything else on your mind? Perhaps something to do with our driver, who keeps looking at you when he thinks no one’s watching?”
My stomach drops. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Violet.” His voice is gentle. “I’ve known you since you were a little kid. I can tell when something’s changed.”
I stare straight ahead, unwilling to confirm or deny anything. Blake sighs.
