Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
I remain quiet, not just because I’m shattered in a way that’s never happened to me before, but because I’m at a loss for what to say. The only thing I know with any certainty is that was the best sex I’ve ever had and I’m already craving it again.
Ronan sighs and rolls off me, right off the bed. I push up, my elbows digging into the mattress, thrusting my breasts up. It has the intended effect as Ronan’s eyes come to my chest.
“Heading home?” I ask, trying to sound casual. Because this is not a relationship.
Ronan blinks at me in surprise. “No… getting rid of the condom. Don’t get too comfortable.”
That means he’s staying. He wants to stay, which implies maybe this means something.
He knocks that starry feeling right out of me though as his gaze flattens. “This is just sex, you know that, right?”
I don’t let him see the pang of hurt that causes, even though I know in my heart, that’s all it would be with a man like Ronan Barnes. I don the confident armor I’m known for on the track. “Of course it’s just sex,” I purr as I drag my hand down my stomach. His eyes darken to denim and follow the path. “But it’s sex more than one time tonight.”
Ronan frowns slightly but then lifts his chin as if to acknowledge this truth. He turns his back on me and heads into the bath, closing the door behind him.
I sink down in the pillows and exhale. “What are you getting yourself into, Francesca?”
CHAPTER 12
Ronan
The Crown Velocity headquarters looks sterile and perfect in the morning light. Glass gleaming, tarmac unmarred. The building rises against an unusually blue sky, every line sharp and deliberate.
Like everything here is under control.
Unlike me.
I kill the engine and sit in the silence. My hands stay on the wheel, curled tight like if I let go, I’ll crash while sitting still.
A week ago, my life was chaotic enough—balancing the constant grind of an FI career, the politics inside Crown Velocity, and the ever-present mess that is my mother. But at least I knew the rules, even if I hated them.
Then she arrived. Francesca Accardi.
From the start, she’s been a thorn in my side. That first brush-up during qualifying at Suzuka with no rookie hesitation, no give. Just steel, which is impressive, no doubt. And since then? It’s been one thing after another. Forced PR appearances. A ridiculous grocery store shoot. Her sitting across from me in some pub, digging into my life like she had the right.
And then last night. I tried to scare her off with my mother and somehow ended up in Francesca’s bed.
Now my life has the added complication of a beautiful, nosy, kind-hearted, and infuriatingly fiery Italian who refuses to be kept at arm’s length. She’s taken my carefully maintained detachment and crushed it under her smile.
And worse, I let her.
Now the question is—what the fuck am I going to do about it?
I didn’t sleep last night. Maybe an hour at most after our second round under the sheets. We were exhausted, not just physically but because of the mental gymnastics that led us into bed.
Francesca curled up to me, and it was weird… abut also comforting, so much so that I fell right to sleep. I didn’t stay that way long though, waking up in a panic because this isn’t my normal routine, and in my life, consistency is the only way for me to stay sane.
Even if that means my mum being drunk or stoned. If she ever tried to have a conversation with me sober, it would probably freak me out.
I left Francesca’s flat while it was still dark, leaving her naked body asleep in her bed. I didn’t even know where I was going, I just needed space. Needed to put a wall back up before it crumbled entirely.
To ease my guilt of sneaking out in the middle of the night, I told myself I needed to get to my mum’s estate in Woking to shower and change before coming here. I even told myself it would be rude to wake Francesca and ruin her beauty sleep. As if she needs that.
All very sensible. All very logical.
But the truth is, I couldn’t risk being there when she woke up. Couldn’t face her in the soft morning light after what happened. After what we did. After I kissed her like she was mine.
Because she’s not. And I can’t afford to want her like that. I have no room in my life to navigate a creature such as Francesca Accardi, not when I’m barely holding together what I have.
I exhale sharply, grab my badge and get out of the car.
Inside, I head to the sim lab. Lex and I will practice the Silvercrest track several times this week to allow our engineering team to tweak the cars based on feedback. The room that houses the simulator is dim and cool, humming with idle electronics. Screens line the walls with race footage and telemetry data looping on silent reels. Engineers sit at their keyboards, analyzing numbers and using their big brains to translate that into better machines.