Faster Deeper (Take Me...#2) (New Adult Bad Boy Racer Novel) (16 page)

“Shit,” Bex breathes, “Did you get any information?”

“No,” Harrison says, “But I did land a good punch.”

“Stupid move,” I grumble.

“Yeah, yeah...” Harrison replies

“It’s something, anyway,” Bex says. “Wish I could have
gotten a good hit myself. He deserves it, the little low life.”

“His phone got destroyed, so he doesn’t have any pictures of
us from this afternoon. But he was still hunting photos down, so the shit storm
doesn’t seem to be over just yet,” I say. “Whatever he and his boss have
planned, it doesn’t stop at turning my family against me. Something else is in
the works here, something bigger.”

“Right...” Bex continues, “If the goal was just to get your
brother upset, no more pictures would be needed.”

“My dad knows too now,” I tell her, “So there’s that.”

“Jesus,” Bex sighs, “With everything that’s going on with
him...”

“What’s going on with him?” Andy asks.

“He’s sick,” I say simply, not wanting to dwell on the
subject, “And now Dad and Enzo are leaning on me to break it off with
Harrison.”

“But that’s not an option?” Bex asks.

“That’s not an option,” Harrison and I say in unison.

Bex smiles at us, shaking her head. “Love birds. What are
you gonna do?”

“Something’s coming with those photos, I just know it,” I go
on, “The question is, what are we going to do about it?”

“Well, what do you want to do about it?” Bex asks.

“I want to tell the world to mind their own business,” I
say, exasperation, “I want to tell them that we’re not their soap opera to
watch with bated breath,” I say.

“Then why don’t you do that?” Bex poses.

“Wh-what?” I sputter.

“Why don’t you two make a statement about your
relationship?” Bex goes on, “You know that it’s only a matter of time before
people find out. Tell them that you’re not interested in F1 drama, that there’s
more to life than what team you happen to root for. Tell them you fell in love
and saw beyond racing politics, that you’re committed to each other. Give them
a love story they can fall in love with themselves and no one can touch you.”

Harrison and I trade glances. Bex is making a whole lot of
sense to me, right about now. But there’s one thing I can’t wrap my head
around.

“What about my family?” I say.

“If you spin your love story the right way, make the world
adore you, then your team will have to get on the same page,” Bex says with a
mischievous grin, “They don’t want to look like a bunch of curmudgeons trying
to squash young love!”

“OK,” I say, “But even if they play our game, what if their
hearts aren’t in it?”

“Well...that is another thing entirely,” Bex says, “One that
you’ll have to fix in private. Only you can bring them around to liking Harrison
as a person.”

“I think I should be able to help with that as well, if they
give me a chance,” Harrison puts in.

“Great,” Bex says, “Then it’s settled. You two are going to
go off together, work out a story, and present it to the media before Harrison
runs his next Grand Prix.”

“Sure, no problem,” I mutter, sitting down on the edge of
Harrison’s bed.

He looks up at me, sweat beading on his forehead. He’s
looking worse for the wear every minute. Jumping his bones was probably not the
best recovery strategy. I need to be more careful around him, learn to control
myself. It won’t be easy, but he needs to get better and get back into the season
before too much time passes. He and Enzo will be OK if they only have to miss
one race. The teams will need time to get them new vehicles anyway. But any
more time than that could really screw them.

“Could we have the room for a second?” Harrison asks,
reaching for my hand.

“Can we leave you alone for two seconds and trust that
you’re not going to screw yourself into a coma?” Andy shoots back.

“You’ll have to take your chances,” Harrison says.

“Come on Andy,” Bex says, laying a hand on the burly man’s
arm, “Buy me a cup of shitty cafeteria coffee, won’t you?”

Andy averts his eyes from Bex’s pretty face and hurries out
of the hospital room, blushing furiously. I have to swallow a smile, despite
the seriousness of the situation. My best friend is irresistible after all.

When they’re gone, I turn anxiously to Harrison. Even after
all these weeks, I can’t help but feel a little thrill at the sight of his
bare, tattooed chest peeking through the hospital gown. It’s not many men who
could make wearing a glorified sheet seem sexy. But then again, my love is
something of a rare specimen. He tucks his hands behind his head with a deep
sigh and stares up at the ceiling with those arresting blue eyes of his.

“Can I get you anything?” I ask him quietly.

He glances down at me, perched on the side of his bed, and
gives me a smile that could light up the entire city of Moscow.

“I’ve got everything I need right here,” he tells me,
squeezing my hand.

“I’m going to let you get away with that disgusting display
of sappiness, but only because you might have brain damage,” I say, arching my
eyebrow. I secretly love his sappiness, of course, and the fact that I’m the
one who inspires it in him.

“Thanks for that,” he laughs shortly.

“No problem,” I smile. “So, what’s our next move? How do you
want to do this?”

“I’m going to need to get off the trail for a while.
Recuperate,” Harrison tells me, “I thought I’d head back to London. The championship
tour will be in London the race after next anyway. Lucky timing, right? I can
get myself rested up and be ready to start training again the second they ship
my ride over.”

“Right,” I say, forcing myself to smile. I don’t like the
thought of Harrison going off by himself to get better while I accompany my
family to our next stop. I should be with him while he heals, helping him. “The
next grand prix is in Belgium,” I go on, “Enzo will probably want to hang out
at our place in Italy until his suspension is over. I guess we’ll just have to
hold tight until we’re in the same city again, you and me.”

“Siena,” Harrison says, looking at me intently, “I don’t
want to be in different places. Ever again. I want you with me while I get over
this little bang on the head. Would you...Would you come to London with me?”

I feel my mouth fall open in surprise. “Come with you?” I
ask, “Harrison, how would we ever explain that to people?”

“You can say...you’re there doing research for the next
Grand Prix,” Harrison offers, “Say you’re working out a PR strategy for Enzo
and you’re gauging public opinion on the ground.”

“You evil genius,” I laugh, “Where the hell do you come up
with this stuff?”

“I spend my days hanging around a brilliant, gorgeous woman
who inspires all kinds of thoughts in this simple brain of mine. Most of the
thoughts are dirty, honestly.”

“You want me to come stay with you for the next...two
weeks?” I ask, hardly daring to believe it, “You know the London Grand Prix
isn’t for two weeks?”

“I’m aware,” Harrison says, “Do you not want to—?”

“No! It’s not that,” I say quickly, “It’s just...Since we
met, we’ve been a pretty strictly hotel room and backseat sort of couple, you
know? This whole affair of ours—”

“Is that how you think of what we have?” Harrison asks, “An
affair?”

“You know what I mean,” I tell him, “We haven’t had a very
traditional relationship so far. It’s just strange to think of living together,
now. Even for a little while. After all the scandal and intrigue—”

“You think that you’ll get bored, coming to stay with me?”
Harrison asks.

“I highly doubt that,” I laugh, “I’m just...I’m sorry. You
caught me off guard, is all. I can’t imagine how I could sell that to my family
without them getting suspicious. To say nothing of the fact that we’re one
illicit photo away from becoming the next big tabloid sensations.”

“Just forget I asked,” Harrison says, “I didn’t mean to make
you uncomfortable, Siena.”

“Harrison...” I say, “Come on. You’re taking my reaction the
wrong way. Don’t you think I’d love to come play house with you while you get
better? I just don’t know how I’m going to swing it.”

“I don’t want you to swing anything,” Harrison tells me, “I
just want you to be there with me. I want you to see my home, my city. I want
to behave like the man you deserve to be with. You shouldn’t be in a hotel room
and backseat kind of relationship, Siena. You’re more to that than me. You know
that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” I tell him.

“Then let me show you,” he urges, laying a palm against my
cheek. “Come to London with me. We’ll figure out our next move there.”

“I’m just not sure...”

“What about us has ever been sure?” Harrison challenges me,
“You’ve been taking risks with me since the night we met. I’m asking you to
keep it up. This is never going to be some simple, uncomplicated relationship.
You know that. We don’t need to tiptoe around that fact anymore. I’m so sick of
hiding this away for some bullshit sense of propriety. I just want you, Siena.
All the time. Always. Say you’ll come with me.”

“I’ll...” I begin, trying to sort through the flurry of
emotions running through me, “I’ll talk to my family. See if I can throw them
off the scent. That’s all I can promise right now, OK? I’m going to do my best.
I want to come with you, Harrison. I want to know what your real life is like.
I want to be a part of that life. I just want to step lightly, here. This means
too much to me to fuck it up now.”

“OK,” Harrison says, “I trust you, Siena. Do what you have
to do.”

“I love you. You know that, right?” I ask him, drawing his
hand down to my lap.

“I know,” he replies, pulling me gently down onto the bed
beside him. “I love you too.”

I stay with him for longer than might be wise, just curled
up against his side. It’s so hard to keep my hands from wandering all over his
body, but after our little incident earlier, I'm sure it’s for the best. The
crazy thing is, it’s enough just lying here with him. Feeling his firm chest
rising up and down against my cheek. It almost feels like we’re approaching
normal, as we lie here together. It might not be so bad, spending the next
couple of weeks at his place. Learning what it feels like to share a life with
him. Visions of movie nights and takeout curry come galloping into my mind as I
try to imagine what a normal life with Harrison Davies might look like...or is
that just a contradiction in terms?

After long hours, I finally say goodbye to Harrison. It
isn’t easy, prying myself from his side, but I promise to call him the minute I
know what I’m going to do next. I leave and head back to Enzo’s room, but not
before Harrison makes me promise to try and shake off my family and join him in
London for the month. He makes a compelling case, lying there half naked. Those
bare biceps of his alone are very persuasive.

Just as I arrive back at Enzo’s room, my brother and father
are gathering up their things, ready to head back to the hotel. It would seem
that Enzo’s scrapes from today’s wreck are not quite as bad as Harrison’s, and
I’m glad for it. My brother may have brought the accident on himself, but of
course I’m happy that he barely got scratched.

“We’ll leave for Italy in the morning,” Dad says as we pile
into the Ferrelli private car. “As odd as it might be to say, this whole thing
is rather well-timed.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, staring sullenly out at the city
of Moscow as it flies by.

“I don’t know how much longer I can stay on the road this
season,” Dad says, “I’m starting to feel it, you know. The fatigue. The aches.
It’s getting harder to breathe. That horrible cough is finally starting to take
hold...”

“Oh, Dad...” I whisper, taking his hand in mine.

“No, no. None of that pity bullshit,” he grumbles, “I’m just
trying to be practical, here. When I get back to Italy...Well, I might just
have to stay there.”

“You could make it to a few more cities Dad,” Enzo
encourages him, “You’re as strong as an ox.”

“I was,” Dad says sadly, “But not these days my son.”

I bite my lip, trying to keep from crying. Dad’s going home
to settle into the final stage of his life. To be with my mother as his life
draws to a close. I can’t even grasp what this really means. He’s hardly shown
any signs of sickness since he told us about his diagnosis. But lately, even I
can see that he’s getting worn out. Worn down. Sitting out the rest of the
tournament is probably the only way he’ll see the end of it.

It’s still impossible for me to fully take in the fact of my
father’s sickness. It was sprung on us so quickly, and in the midst of so much
else, that I’ve had no time at all to process. On the one hand, I’m grateful to
be distracted from the fact of Dad’s cancer. But on the other hand, I know that
I can only hold off my grief for so long. And when it finally hits me full
on...I don’t know how I’ll be able to stand it.

What am I supposed to do now? Continue on with my plan to go
to London, be with Harrison while he recovers? Or go to Italy with the family
and sit by my father’s side as the cancer takes hold of his body? I don’t know
which of the men in my life needs me most, now. Which one I’m supposed to take
care of. My father’s always been the most important man in the world to me. But
now...?

“I was thinking, Dad,” I begin, my voice shaking almost
imperceptibly, “It might be a good idea for me to keep up with the tournament
on the ground. From a PR perspective.”

“You mean, keep traveling with the rest of the teams?” Dad
asks.

“Not to Belgium,” I say, “Since we’re not racing in that
Grand Prix, I mean. It might be a waste of energy. I thought I’d go on ahead to
London. Start doing research, shaping the narrative among the local press. That
kind of thing.”

“You want to go to London?” Enzo asks, “But London is
terrible. It’s foggy, and expensive, and drab as hell. You love the house in
Italy. The whole team will crash there for the month. Charlie, Gus, Bex, the
whole crew. It’ll be just like vacations were when we were kids.”