Page 64 of Formula Freedom
Lara’s cheeks flush pink and she looks a little discombobulated. “Um… I sort of panicked when he said he wanted to talk in Torquay because he thought I was there. I told him I wasn’t and he wanted to know where I was. I panicked.” She smiles sheepishly. “And sort of told him I had to go and hung up.”
I consider what that might mean for Lance’s next move. Will he patiently wait for her to return? Will he press for her whereabouts? Or he might even try to get the information out of our parents, although they’ve agreed to stay out of it completely and won’t tell Lance that she’s with me.
What a fucking mess! I rub the back of my neck. “I’ve got a week off between Suzuka and Shanghai. I could go back to Torquay with you to talk to Lance.”
Lara shakes her head and touches my forearm. “You know I have to do this alone. This is between me and Lance.” She glances out the window, swallows hard before bringing her eyes back to mine. “And… he needs to know about us. I’ll tell him in person.”
“I don’t want you doing that alone,” I growl, pulling my arm away from her. “Last time you were alone with him, he hit you.”
Smile turning downward, she nods. “I know that scares you, but I have to do it alone. I can do it at your parents’ house or my house if that makes you more comfortable, but you cannot be there.”
“But—”
“No buts,” she says, placing a finger over my lips and staring up at me resolutely. “Just go with me on this. Once I talk to Lance, then you and I are free to…”
Her words drift and she scrunches her face as if she isn’t quite sure what we’re free to do. It’s adorable. “You and I are free to start our lives together,” I say.
Lara blinks, mouth dropping slightly open. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“It means we’re together, and we’ve got a lot of stuff to figure out. I have at least one race a month, eleven months of the year. Some months I have three races. I travel all over the world. I have homes in Zurich and Monaco, but I’m never in one of them for long. Which means I live out of hotels—albeit luxurious hotels—and it’s not a very stable life if you want to settle down somewhere.”
Her teeth press down into her lower lip as she considers. “Are you asking me to travel with you?”
“Yes,” I exclaim with a little too much vigor, but she’s finally getting it. “Yes, I’m asking you to travel with me. To be with me. However it works. However we make it work.”
Her eyes search mine, wide and blinking like she’s trying to wrap her head around the speed of it all. “This is wild.”
“I know,” I say, stepping closer, threading my fingers through hers. “But Lara… we’ve been in each other’s lives forever. This isn’t some whirlwind stranger romance. You know me. I know you. And somewhere along the way, this stopped being just history and became everything I want.”
She softens at that—her eyes, her shoulders, her breath.
“You don’t have to say it back,” I add quickly. “But I love you. I mean… I’ve always loved you because you’re one of my best friends and like family, but this is a different type of love. It’s the kind where I want to make our lives together.”
Lara’s eyes well, but she doesn’t blink away the tears. “You’ve always been my person,” she whispers. “Always. And yeah, I’ve loved you for years too—it was just filed under friendship and I never questioned it.”
My throat tightens as she lifts our joined hands and presses her lips to my knuckles.
“I love you,” she says, eyes steady on mine. “And I don’t know what our life looks like or how it works, but I want it. Whatever it is. I want it with you.”
Relief floods me so hard I feel it in my knees. I pull her into my arms and kiss her—slow and sure, the kind that seems like a promise kept.
“We’re doing this,” she murmurs against my mouth.
“We’re so doing this,” I whisper back. “You and me. No matter where the road takes us.”
CHAPTER 21
Lara
It’s not thatI didn’t like Monaco—it was lovely and quite opulent. But if I had to pick between it and Zurich, this beautiful city wins hands down. I pressed my face to the passenger-side window watching everything go by as we drove to Reid’s apartment. The streets are charmingly cobbled, the buildings timeless but not showy, and everything moves at a quieter pace.
It’s like this city has nothing to prove and for whatever reason, I’m more grounded, more peaceful, morehome.
The people are different too. In Monaco, everyone looked like they were ready for a magazine cover—glamorous, styled, always performing for the next photo or VIP invitation. Here in Zurich, it’s simpler. The elegance is quieter. People walk to work with fresh flowers tucked under their arms or stop at cafés in wool coats and worn leather shoes. They’re not trying to be seen—they justare, and that appeals to me very much.
“From my apartment balcony,” Reid says as we enter his building, “you can see the Limmat River and beyond that, the Alps, but only on clear days.”
His tone is one of excitement and connection, which tells me he likes Zurich better too.
