Page 94 of Burn

“Not for an hour and a half.”

“This isn’t the time.” I shove my fingers under my glasses, wiping away the tears.

“It is the time.”

“Max, here’s the thing. When a man’s involved with a public sex scandal, he comes through unscathed. Or better than he was before. Women in sex scandals never fare that well. We become the sluts, the messy ones, the crazy ones. I know that firsthand.”

Memories of tweets during my scandal at the game company come wafting through my brain. I was called a bitch, a company wrecker, and a shrew. And those were the nice comments.

Max sighs. “I know. It’s unfair. But if you want this, us, to work, we’ve got to go public at some time. We can’t hide forever.”

“So you’re saying either rip the bandage off now, or later?”

He squeezes my hand. “Pretty much.”

I know he’s right. But I’m not sure I can handle such intense scrutiny right now, especially after my firing two months ago, Papa’s heart attack, and running this team. I don’t have the heart to explain this to Max. Definitely not before he’s about to practice a few laps on the track.

I snortle in and muster a giant smile. “Okay. I’m going to think about all this. You go practice, and I’ll keep talking to Tanya. I think for now we shouldn’t say anything, okay? We need the attention on your driving, not your sex life.”

A playful grin creeps on his lips. “I adore you. I didn’t tell you that enough when we were together before. I should have.”

I open my mouth, then close it. His declarations of affection throw me off balance every time he says them. It’s as if I almost don’t believe him, or don’t think I deserve his love.

There’s no time to unpack those thoughts now, though, so I stand and brush a kiss on his cheek, then call Tanya back into the room so we can come up with a strategy for the weekend.

Deny, deny, deny. That’s my new motto.

Chapter Forty-One

LILY

When Max goes to the noisy garage to prepare for his practice laps, I remain ensconced inside the silent, sterile office.

Not because I’m worried about the media; they don’t have access to the garage or the control center area where the engineers watch Max’s driving on monitors, while his car is hooked up to computers. I could hang out in there and the team wouldn’t dare say anything to me about the rumors.

No, I’ve stayed behind because I must do something even more important.

Call my father.

I check my watch. It’s been a few hours since Mum sent her emoji-filled text, so perhaps they’re back in my condo. My hand goes to the back of my leg, which is again pulsing and prickling.

Eep. Can’t do that. The doctor specifically wrote on my discharge instructions to not scratch. I straighten my skirt and rub my hands over my thighs instead, then reach for my phone.

My leg jiggles violently as I wait for my father to pick up.

“Lily.” He doesn’t say hello, doesn’t call me kamari mou, doesn’t have a warm tone at all.

“Hi, Papa.”

There’s a pause, a terrible, scary silence. An empty feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. If only I could tear out of this little, closet-like space and run far away, back to my cozy, light-filled condo, where I can hide from the world.

“I need to tell you something.” The words tumble out of me. “Max and I are, are . . .”

Are what? In love? Together? Having sex? I struggle to find the best explanation for our relationship and wish I would’ve rehearsed.

“We were together seven years ago and then I broke up with him. But you know all that. Now we’re back together,” I say, acutely aware that it probably sounded like all one word. “I’m hoping you don’t get as upset as you did before.”

While waiting for him to say something, anything, I feel like vomiting. “I, I love him,” I manage to get out.

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