Page 28 of Kiss & Collide (Racing Hearts #2)

London, England

V iolet was back at a tiny bistro in Shoreditch to meet Will and Mira for dinner.

They’d had dinner here together before, just after Mira started at Lennox.

It was Will’s favorite restaurant and near his place in Hackney.

Although now, Violet supposed, it was their place, since Mira lived with him when they were in London.

She’d beaten them there, so she snagged a table near the back and ordered some wine. While she waited for them, she hopped on Insta and started scrolling hashtags. Chase was in London tonight, too, on a date with Madison. By now they should have been spotted and photographed.

It took no time at all to find the first photos, slightly grainy and poorly lit, but clearly Chase and Madison, in a cozy booth at some trendy Asian fusion place in Southwark.

Madison looked great, in a gauzy white sundress and heels, her hair up in a messy twist that she pulled off effortlessly.

And Chase … well, he looked as hot as he always did, in a black polo and expensive jeans, all sex hair and stubble.

She’d texted him guidance on what to wear and was pleased he’d listened.

Their booth was a half circle, but they’d both scooted all the way to the middle, so they were cuddled up side by side.

His right arm was draped across the back of the booth, behind Madison’s shoulders.

They were angled toward each other, smiling radiantly, eyes locked. They really knew how to sell it.

But what if they weren’t selling it anymore? What if they were into each other now? Maybe tonight she’d go back to his hotel room with him, instead of Violet.

That was the wrong thing to imagine. There was that weird hollow feeling again.

She felt twitchy and uneasy, like she wanted to get up and run, but to where and to do what?

None of this was any of her business. Well, this part was …

the online part, and how it was hitting.

What they chose to do at the end of the night was none of her business.

“Violet! Hi!”

She jerked out of her doomscrolling and set her phone face down on the table. Mira had just arrived and was winding her way between tables to reach her. Violet could see Will outside on the sidewalk, on the phone.

Mira dropped into the chair across from her, looking flushed and excited. Her cascade of blond curls was especially wild tonight, and her green eyes were bright.

“I can’t believe we finally made this happen.”

“It’s wild that we’re both working for Formula One teams, we’re both at all the same races, and yet we never see each other.” Violet poured her a glass of wine.

“Here’s to our rival teams,” Mira said, lifting her glass.

Violet snorted, and tapped her glass against Mira’s. “Pinnacle is hardly a rival to Lennox.”

“Maraschino cherry,” Mira said.

Violet nodded in understanding. “Cone of silence engaged.”

Mira took a sip of her wine. “The last few races, you guys have definitely been making some moves. Rabia knows what she’s doing.”

“She does. If we can put together the money, she could design a truly competitive car next season.”

“Chase looks good, too. With a decent car, he could really make a splash.”

That was true, too. And it was the point of all of this, she reminded herself. The magazine spreads, the dates with Madison, it was all to rake in more sponsorship money. More money would pay for that better car Rabia was designing.

“He’s a good driver,” Violet said levelly, taking a sip of her wine.

Mira eyed her over the rim of her glass. “We’re still in the cone. What about you two? Is that still a thing?”

“We’re not a thing ,” Violet protested. “We just sleep together. When we feel like it.”

Which was becoming nearly every night when they were in the same place. Most troubling of all, most of the time, he actually spent the night—sleeping and everything. How had that become a habit they’d fallen into? Sometimes she woke up in the morning and he was cuddling her.

Mira shook her head. “It seems messy to me. Isn’t he dating that actor? Madison whatever?”

“Mitchell. And I told you, not really. I set that up.”

Mira looked at her curiously. “I don’t know how you do that, send him off to date some other woman. Even if he was just faking it, it would kill me to see Will like that.”

“This is different. Chase isn’t my boyfriend. It’s just …” What? What were they? Friends with benefits? Were they actually friends? Colleagues who slept together? That felt wrong, too. “It’s fine,” she finally said, firmly. “Totally under control.”

Mira smirked knowingly. “Whatever you say.”

“It is,” she insisted.

“I believe you.”

“Hey, what did I miss?” Will slid into the chair beside Mira’s and leaned in to kiss Mira’s cheek.

Will was the one guy who disproved Violet’s theory that you could never reform a manwhore.

Because Will had once been the king of them, and now he was utterly devoted to Mira.

Honestly, it was revolting how besotted he was with her.

“Violet’s just explaining that she isn’t actually dating Chase Navarro,” Mira said innocently.

“What happened to bloody maraschino cherry?” Violet protested.

Mira shrugged, completely without shame. “That only applies to racing. Personal stuff is fair game.”

Will held up his hands. “Sorry, she tells me everything.”

“Good to know.” She shot a half-hearted glare at Mira, but honestly she didn’t care if Will knew. He probably understood the situation better than Mira ever would, since he’d been the king of meaningless hookups back before he’d met Mira.

“Speaking of personal stuff …” Will looked at Mira, raising his eyebrow. “Did you tell her yet?”

“I was waiting for you,” Mira said back, reaching for his hand.

“Tell me what?”

Mira pulled her left hand from her lap, and it was only now that Violet realized she’d been hiding it all this time. And it was obvious why.

The diamond on her third finger, flashing in the candlelight, was impossible to miss.

“We’re engaged!” Mira said, her whole face lit up with joy. Will was smiling at her with the softest, dopiest expression on his handsome face. Honestly, the two of them …

“Oh.” Violet scrambled to formulate the right response. “Congratulations! That’s amazing!” She was happy for them. Of course she was. And really, it was no surprise they were taking this step. They were quite obviously in love with each other.

It was only that Violet had long ago convinced herself that true love was a myth.

She hadn’t believed anyone could really love you until they died.

She’d felt that way once, and she’d believed with every molecule of her being that Ian had felt that way about her, too.

He’d told her he did. The great love of his life, he’d called her.

His muse, his reason for existing. But obviously it was all a load of bollocks.

True love, that kind of love, was just a fantasy people got high on.

Because if it really did exist, what did it mean that Ian had thrown hers away?

But it seemed to exist for some people. Mira and Will had found it together. If Violet hadn’t managed it … well, she’d picked the wrong guy, the wrong guy had picked her. Or maybe it was just her .

Some people, like Mira, could love that way, and be loved in return.

And others, like Violet, just … couldn’t.

No one in Violet’s life ever stuck around to love her, not even her family.

That was why she didn’t go around hoping and expecting them to anymore.

That was a surefire path to misery, and once in her life was plenty.

She took a minute to examine the ring and compliment Will’s good taste in choosing it—all the things you’re supposed to do when someone tells you they’re getting married.

“There’s something else,” Mira said after a bit.

“What’s that?”

“I’d like you to be my maid of honor.”

Violet blinked. “Me?” she blurted. “Are you sure?”

Mira laughed. “Well, you’re my best friend, so yes, I’m pretty sure. Do you … not want to?”

“No, not at all.” Violet recovered herself, shaking her head and smiling. “I’d love to. That’s really … nice. Only I’ve never done it.” She waved a hand at herself. “Couldn’t imagine anyone wanting me up there in their wedding pictures.”

Mira scoffed. “You look amazing.”

Lurking behind Mira’s petite blond radiance, she imagined she’d look like the evil queen come to cast a curse on the happy couple. Then a terrible thought occurred to her. “Oh, god, you’re not going to stuff me into some hideous bridesmaid dress, are you? Pink really isn’t my color.”

“Violet, I do know you, you know. I wouldn’t dream of it. Wear what you want.”

“So is there a date for this big event?”

“Next July, during the midseason break.”

“You’re going to plan a wedding while you’re managing a Formula One season?”

“There’s never a time when I’m not managing a Formula One season, either this one or the next one. I’ll figure it out.”

“I’ll help, if you need it.”

“You will?”

“’Course. I’m the maid of honor. Isn’t that in the rules or something? Whatever I can do.”

Mira reached across the table and squeezed her hand, gazing at her with those big Bambi eyes, overflowing with gratitude. No wonder Will was such a sucker for her. She was impossible to say no to. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Violet.”

A year ago, this kind of pronouncement, this kind of affection, would have made her twitchy with unease.

To be honest, it still did a bit. But as unexpected as this friendship with Mira had been, it had become important to her.

Maybe she didn’t let men into her heart anymore, but Mira was different.

She had one friend, and dammit, she was going to keep her.

“Lucky for you you’ll never have to find out. So now fill me in on all the plans.”

“Well, we think it’ll be easiest to do it near London, so it’s central for everybody—”

On the table beside her hand, Violet’s phone vibrated. She flipped it over to see who it was.

It was a text. From Chase .

Probably done here by ten. Your room?

She blinked at her phone, confused. She’d been so sure he’d end up going home with Madison tonight. She was right there, beautiful and available. But here he was, still in the middle of their date, planning to come back to hers tonight.

She was feeling something again, but it wasn’t that weird hollow feeling. It was warm, and bubbly, and absolutely fucking terrifying.

“Everything okay?” Mira asked.

She looked back up, forcing a smile. “Absolutely.”

Mira eyed the phone still clutched in her hand. “You can bring a plus-one, you know. To the wedding.”

Rolling her eyes, she scoffed. “Right. I’ll just ring up Andrew Garfield and see if he’s free.”

Mira laughed, and Will groaned about being starving, so they all turned their attention to the menus. Violet held her phone in her lap as she typed out an answer.

See you tonight.