Page 103 of Red Flag
I looked up at him, resting my chin on his top. “Do you not realise what I would do for you? What I would do for your career?”
He sighed, looking down at me with serious eyes. “Maybe you shouldn’t be my publicistanymore.”
I jerked back out of his hold. “What?”
“Maybe you should take the job atPrixton.”
He wanted me gone?
He wanted… what? For us to not be a secret, like I’d suggested?
“Why?”
“Because…” He looked down at his hands. “I don’t want your career to be hurt by my actions.”
“Well, just don’t do anything stupid,” I laughed.
He lifted a hand to his head, turning away.
“You’ve already done something stupid, haven’t you?”
He wouldn’t look at me.
“What have you done?”
“It was years ago… I’m not the same person. I have far more to risk now,” he said and pulled me back to him. “Please don’t ask. We’ve already had to go through a fair bit tonight. Let’s just… enjoy our time here.”
I wasn’t so sure.
“We can pack up your stuff, find a storage facility or move you in here. That’s the priority. Then this article.”
Chapter 22
For the next two days, if I wasn’t packing my home up into boxes, I was overanalysing everything Nix had said. I googled him for the thousandth time but went as far back as I could. I couldn’t find anything about what this apparent career-ending experience had been.
He was oblivious. He hired a van for us to move my important possessions over, laughed at some of my possessions he found while packing, and asked for stories about them and my family. I ignored the rest of the world.
My brother had texted me asking when we were landing for the race that weekend, and I ignored that part of the text. Being my twin and far too observant in general, he would take one look at me and Nix and know.
So, to keep the peace, I sent him and Griff VIP tickets to the race. Hopefully, there, they would get drunk in the lounge and wouldn’t bump into number 18.
BEN: Thanks for the cocktails! Wow, really getting luxury treatment.
I smiled down at the text.
Luca, leathered in the pit box, nodded over to my phone and grinned. “Who’s that, huh?”
I scanned the room;Criswas busy talking to Abbe and themechanics tinkered away, oblivious to me sitting on a stool staring at my phone. OrLucagrinning.
“My brother,” I said as Nix came into the room. He’d just changed into his leathers.
On Friday, we had driven up to the Silverstone circuit from London and stayed in a different hotel than everyone else. We subtly checked in and moved our suitcases in once the coach had left for qualifying on Saturday morning.
It was our first night sleeping apart in nearly a week and it had been horrible.
I quickly went on our texts from last night. It was something I found myself doing far too often.
NIXONARMAS: Just rolled over to hug you. Arm hit the mattress. Worst nightmare.
