Page 22 of Faster

Chapter Fourteen

The Japanese Grand Prix was one of Cece’s favorite races of the season.

The paddock was lush and thoughtfully designed to highlight the area’s vegetation, and the fans were incredibly friendly and enthusiastic about the drivers.

Cece and Jocelyn walked through the fan zone.

A few people stopped Cece and asked for her autograph or a selfie, and Jocelyn scoffed. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Why not?” Cece smiled and tried her few words in Japanese. The girl asking for her signature corrected her politely. “If I don’t do it, that makes me a bitch.”

“It’s better to be a bitch than to steal the spotlight.”

Jocelyn probably thought it was better to be a bitch than it was to be a lot of things. She was also probably jealous because Cece was almost as popular as she was at this point. Although she was frequently featured on @WAGsandSLAGs, it seemed clear that a lot of those stories were planted—by her.

She’d married Heka when he was already a world champion, and he wasn’t super interested in playing the press game.

And now he was on the downswing of his career and would probably announce his retirement at summer break—especially if his season kept going the way it was.

He hadn’t been in the third qualifying session since Bahrain.

And he had only scored three points all season long.

Maybe Jocelyn felt her crown slipping. And she could only stave the end of his career off with a pregnancy so many times.

Ethan and Luca, however, were in a tight race for first place with Micaela and Brent. Brent had taken P1 after starting in fifth in Australia, with Luca and Ethan in the other podium places.

Cece had been pushed up next to Micaela watching the podium. She was surprised to see the younger woman there; usually drivers who didn’t place went off to sulk after they got weighed and before they were required to talk to the press.

“If I don’t show up to support my teammate, everyone will think I’m a spoiled brat,” she said.

Cece winked at her. “And you did great. You’re still ahead of him in the championship, so you can afford to be magnanimous.”

“Thank you.” Micaela squeezed her arm. “I’m glad you get me. How are you?”

Cece wished she hadn’t allowed the younger woman to see her vulnerable at the gala. They were friendly but not really friends. “Everything’s fine.”

Micaela got the message—that Cece didn’t want to get into anything deep—but she didn’t let it show on her face. She’d grown up in the world and understood the need for discretion more than anything. “I’m here, if you need to talk.”

“Thank you.” Cece had changed her mind and decided, in that moment, that she and Micaela were going to be friends.

The press had gotten a hold of photos during their exchange and asked about them.

It was odd to them that Cece would reach out to a young woman who was trying to beat her husband on the track.

“Girls in this world have to stick together,” Cece had responded. “She’s a gifted, young driver, and I fully expect her to beat all the guys, including mine.”

Ethan hadn’t been happy with that, but he’d also been pissed when their bathroom hate fuck hadn’t turned into a full-on reconciliation. His response to the idea of any friendship with Micaela demonstrated that it wasn’t just his infidelity they needed to work on.

Her husband had been the one who’d suggested she hang out with Jocelyn this week in Tokyo before heading to Suzuka on the train. It had been a long week. Ethan knew Jocelyn was a “small doses” friend, and he’d suggested they hang out all week to punish her.

Cece loved Japan—with the people, the food, the contrast between the bright lights and endless novelty of Tokyo and the green and quiet countryside—it was so different from where she’d grown up.

She never missed this trip. But having Jocelyn along had been a drag.

It was difficult to fathom how someone who’d been traveling all of the world for a decade could still find so much to complain about.

The first day, she complained about the food. “I don’t want omakase. I want to eat a burger.” Which was how Cece found herself asking their driver to find them a burger joint when she’d had reservations at a four-seater, Michelin three-star restaurant.

“None of the clothes are in my size,” Jocelyn had said, as Cece’s face heated with embarrassment at an atelier Cece had arranged to visit back in November, when they were in Japan last year.

And now she was bitching about Cece signing a few autographs. “I’m in commercials here, Jocelyn.” Cece needed to extract as much out of her public profile as she could, while she could. That meant hawking everything from Korean sunscreen to Cuban sandwich–flavored potato chips.

“I can’t believe you still work.” Jocelyn couldn’t believe anything in Japan. And she’d always indicated she was above influencing as a profession. “Is that because you and Ethan are having marital problems?”

Her “friend” had also been fishing for information about her marriage all week.

Although she and Ethan had been caught by paparazzi in Melbourne leaving a restaurant bathroom together, he’d mentioned to Heka that things weren’t great at home.

Cece wouldn’t have expected the taciturn Finn to gossip, but he must have said something to Jocelyn.

“Our marriage is fine.” Cece had tried her hardest not to snap at Jocelyn all week, but she was at her wit’s end. “I was just pissed about the pictures. It’s not the ‘family image’ that Lupo likes to portray.”

A few decades ago, Ethan might have been summarily fired. But he was a huge personality in the sport today, and even the Italians really couldn’t fault him for banging his own wife. They would definitely find fault with Luca for fucking Ethan’s wife. And Ethan’s wife for fucking Luca.

But they would never need to know about that.

Cece didn’t usually disturb Ethan while he was prepping for a race—especially not this season.

He was so wound up about competing with Luca that he was monstrous to be around.

But he’d told her to pop her head in when she got to the track.

And he was trying to be nice to her. He hadn’t cheated on her again, for starters.

She knew because he was constantly sharing his location with her. But she didn’t know how to tell him she needed more than just fidelity by the letter of the law. She wasn’t sure they could fix what was broken between the two of them before he’d cheated.

But before she got to Ethan’s room, Luca grabbed her and pulled her into him, just inside the door to his room.

His mouth was on hers before she could push him away.

And the way he kissed her made it impossible for her to pull back for a few long seconds.

She only broke their kiss, her breath ragged from just a taste of him, because she had to.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she yell-whispered, well aware of how thin the walls were between the drivers’ rooms.

He didn’t speak for a second, maybe two. It didn’t make any sense, but he seemed just as lost and confused as she was. “Cece, I—”

She shoved his chest away, and this time he backed up. “We can’t do this. We can’t.”

Luca backed up all the way and dropped to the cot. Cece cringed at the creaking sound it made moving a little across the floor. “I’m sorry. I saw the pictures, and I lost it.”

Cece could imagine how that felt for him. He probably felt used and discarded. That was the last thing she wanted him to feel, but how could she explain? Things between her and Ethan were still unimaginably complicated. But the thing between her and Luca was supposed to be simple. And over.

It didn’t feel like it was either of those things.

“It’s what you think it was.” She wasn’t going to lie to him. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m not still fucked up over you.”

He looked up at her, and the raw emotion that had coated him from head to toe when he’d pulled her in that room was gone now. Iced over. That’s how he could drive at unspeakable speeds without thinking about death. She couldn’t freeze him out that way.

“I have to go.” She shook her head and looked away from him. “I’m sorry.”

She was sorry she’d hurt him, but hopefully he could move on now. But then, he surprised her by standing up and crowding her against the wall again. She still wouldn’t look at him, so he waited.

He might have iced over any feelings he had for her, but his body heat singed her from head to toe.

“Look at me.” His words were deadly and quiet, and she felt like she had no choice but to do what he told her. “I’m going to win.”

“The race?” She hated how her broken whisper felt small. She was not afraid of this man. But barely being able to get words out meant she was afraid of her feelings for him.

“Everything.” He dropped his head and ran his nose along the side of her neck, like he was a predator scenting his prey. There was nothing about this situation that should have her turning into a boneless puddle on the floor, yet here she was.

Before she knew exactly what was going on, she was in the hallway, facing her husband.

Luca stood behind her, and she could feel he had some sort of shit-eating grin on his face. Ethan’s gaze dipped to her swollen lips, and it took everything in her not to touch them. He’d know she’d kissed Luca for sure if she did.

Shockingly, her normally loquacious husband had nothing to say. But the same energy that had possessed him to fuck her in that bathroom clearly came over him now as well. The vibes were extremely volatile, and Cece wanted nothing more than to escape. Or see what would happen if everything exploded.

She was saved when Lydia, the team’s press officer, came walking down the hall in a cloud of musky perfume. “Good, both of you are here. You need to come to the team brief, so you’re prepared to answer questions about the upgrades on the car.”

Cece took the opportunity to slip behind Luca and out to the garage. She waved her hand behind her head and said, “Good luck.”

“Stay the fuck away from my wife.” Ethan bit the words out.

Luca snarled at him. “Keep your dick out of other women.”

They walked behind Lydia in the paddock, and they both had smiles on their face, even though they wanted to murder each other right there. There wouldn’t be time before the race for Ethan to try to kick his ass.

“She went to see you that night, didn’t she?” Ethan might be a real douchebag sometimes, but he wasn’t stupid.

“She’s my friend. She was always my friend. And I’m glad I could be there for her when you fumbled the bag.”

Ethan stopped for a second, but then he must have remembered where he was. “We don’t share her.”

Luca sighed. This was the most they’d spoken to each other when it wasn’t for socials or about the car since he’d joined the team. And Ethan was making it about marking his territory.

“She’s not a possession, and she gets to decide who she shares herself with.

” They’d both slowed down, so they were out of Lydia’s earshot, and they walked with purpose, only briefly pausing for selfies well behind fans.

Still, this wasn’t the best place to be talking about who had the right to decide who Ethan’s wife fucked.

“I know that.” Ethan’s tone was sharp, and Luca was pretty sure a reporter had heard that.

Tomorrow, there would be rumors about strife in the team.

The speculation about how the teammates and former friends were getting along was already brutal, and Luca resented Ethan adding to that now.

“But I’m not going to let you have her.”

Luca barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

The last thing they needed was that photo.

He was also going to have to watch his six during the race.

Ethan would run him off the track at any opportunity, and they were starting on the same row.

He wasn’t going to follow team orders either. This was going to be a long race.