Page 53 of Faster

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Cece didn’t want to be in Singapore the same week as the race.

Unlike Monaco, it was a big city-state, and she probably wouldn’t see Ethan or Luca, but there was always a chance.

The problem was she couldn’t afford to turn down a job at this point.

And a Vanity Fair shoot with a world-renowned photographer was a job that could very well lead to more jobs.

Editorial shoots usually didn’t pay well, but this was a partnership with a label she’d worked with before. Alexander had made sure she would be compensated at a rate that was well above her market value as a model.

And the location was frankly to die for—the SkyPark at the top of the Marina Bay Sands hotel.

The iconic pool deck spanning the three towers was the first thing she’d wanted to see when she’d attended the race for the first time.

Ethan had teased her about being a tourist, but Luca had defended her.

He’d always had to hide his awe at the cool things his wealthier compatriots found pedestrian.

Ethan had shut up after that reminder, and they’d stayed there every time he’d raced in Singapore.

Anxiety rose in her throat as she ascended the elevator.

She wasn’t nervous about the job—all she had to do was move around in beautiful clothes after being made up and styled by the most talented people she knew.

The makeup artist they’d hired was so good she could definitely cover up the bags under Cece’s eyes. She was nervous about her life.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the reflective elevator doors. Yikes.

But she hadn’t been sleeping well. She couldn’t sleep without Ethan and Luca next to her or the promise of them being next to her soon. With time, she was sure it would pass, but she couldn’t wait for the day it didn’t hurt to exist without them to continue on with her life.

When the elevators reached the SkyPark level, she took a deep breath and prepared herself to be the professional she was before she’d been a wife or a lover or a scandal. She’d been through so much in the last ten months that she should be prepared for anything.

The one thing she wasn’t prepared for was seeing Ethan and Luca waiting for her when the elevator doors opened.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” The words were out of her mouth before she could do anything to keep them back.

Her mind couldn’t compute their presence and panic welled up inside her chest before she could tamp it down.

Why would they be here? Did they care at all about their careers?

Although the rumors had died down in the face of the drama with the Panther Motors team, the one way to reignite gossip about the three of them was for them to show up here.

Both of them smiled at her, beamed really, as though they were simply happy to see her. Neither of them was dim, but they were just giving her these stupid happy grins she couldn’t understand.

“You’re not happy to see us?” Luca took the first step toward her, and she almost made a dive for the elevator doors closing behind her.

She looked around at all the people working to set up what was a real photo shoot and composed herself.

They would simply leave and discuss this privately before they took their leave.

And none of them would speak of this again.

“I told you that I needed space.” She walked between them toward the tent the staff had set up as a dressing room. “This is not giving me space.”

“Well, we would give you space, but that’s not why you’re here,” Ethan said, and even more alarm bells started going off in her brain.

“I’m here to work.” Maybe if she told herself that, they would leave.

But they were here for a reason. Something in her brain had told her that this job was too good to be true, that there had to be a catch.

Six figures for an editorial shoot wasn’t something that happened to wives of real celebrities.

But no, she’d told herself that it was probably the one benefit of being involved in a sex scandal—people wanted to look at pictures of you.

Luca grabbed her arm and turned her toward him.

He didn’t manhandle her, but his touch was insistent—the way you’d touch someone if they were on the edge of losing their cool.

She hated the way her body calmed instantly when he took her in hand.

It wasn’t fair he had this effect on her.

Ethan stepped closer too. She fought the urge to push them both away.

Partially because she’d probably land in the long pool bordering the walkway.

That would be more embarrassing than just standing here and hearing them out.

She indulged herself by taking a moment to drink Luca in.

He had more of a tan than he had in the Netherlands.

No one had been there to remind him to reapply sunscreen.

She’d been doing that since earlier in the season.

He also looked about as tired as she felt.

She’d wanted more for him this season. She’d wanted him to be free of the kind of extraneous bullshit that dogged drivers when their offtrack life intruded.

Then, she turned to her husband. He looked tired as well, but there was something hopeful about the way he looked at her. She loved that he was so sanguine about the fifty people staring at them, waiting for something to happen.

“Are you going to hear us out?” Ethan asked. “Or does Luca have to toss you over his shoulder and drag you away like a caveman?”

His mouth quirked and she barely kept herself from smiling back at him.

How could they be so cool and collected?

They hadn’t all been together for almost a month, and she vibrated with both the need for them to touch her more and the fear about what would happen if they did.

But she guessed that was why they drove the cars at the limit—they didn’t experience the drive for self-preservation the way everyone else did.

She nodded. “I’ll hear what you have to say.”

“Do you want to go downstairs so that we can speak in private?” Luca asked.

She was torn. If she went downstairs with them, there would be photos of the three of them walking into a hotel on social media within minutes.

But neither of them seemed to care. And if the rumors weren’t going to faze them, why should she sacrifice a few more moments with them for the sake of her already-tattered reputation?

Together, they walked back to the elevators.

Both of them put a hand on her lower back as the car descended three floors.

Less than a minute passed, but it felt like forever.

She didn’t know what they were going to say or what they had planned for her.

She was equal parts afraid they were going to break up with her for good and excited they’d possibly—maybe—figured out a way for them to be together.

Ethan took her hand as they made their way to the room and Luca keyed them in.

As soon as the door closed, Ethan turned and kissed her.

It wasn’t rushed or frantic. He kissed her as though he had all the time in the world.

But at the same time, he didn’t wait for permission.

He had it, though. She told him as much as she drank from the desire he poured into his kiss.

Luca stepped behind her and moved the hair off the back of her neck, claiming that spot with his lips.

She was stone-cold sober and yet completely intoxicated by their touch—surrounded in it, swimming in it.

But they’d brought her down here to talk, and they all still had so much to say.

Their entire relationship had been initiated because of this electric thing between the three of them.

It had exploded in their faces over and over.

It was time for them to think things through, talk things out, before falling into bed.

Reluctantly, she extricated herself from their embrace and moved to a chair facing a sofa in the suite. She didn’t dare choose the couch, where one or both of them could sit next to her, and their nearness would destroy her good sense.

They exchanged a look that spoke a language they’d been honing since they were teens. She just hoped this—entanglement—wouldn’t destroy a friendship that long and deep. Again.

They mirrored each other, sitting with their legs spread, their elbows on their knees, leaning as close to her as they could get while still being across the room. She wanted to reach out to both of them too. But she had to be strong. She could be the strong one, for once.

“Why are you here? What is happening?” She likely sounded bonkers, but she was disoriented. They grinned at each other, and it kind of pissed her off. “Was this entire photo shoot staged just to get me to hear you out?”

She would have thought Luca was more sensible than that, but it seemed like something Ethan would do. It was self-aggrandizing, foolish, and wasteful. She was about to tell them all of that when Luca said, “We planned it because we thought it would be the only way to get you here.”

“You knew where I was this whole time!” Cece squeezed the arms of the chair so hard her knuckles turned white.

“I didn’t leave the apartment for weeks.

And now the two of you drag me across the globe to say what?

What could you possibly have to say that would change things?

We can’t just magically transport ourselves to the future or an alternate universe, where no one in a zillion-dollar-per-year sport is going to blink at two queer drivers and their shared wife. ”

When she stopped talking, she had to take in a deep inhale. That gave them an opening. “The team is fine with it.”

Her grip on the arms of the chair loosened, but she still wasn’t convinced. “The most Italian team on the grid is fine with their drivers fucking? Be so fucking for real.”