Page 36 of Kiss & Collide (Racing Hearts #2)

In the elevator, she fired off a text to Maisie, directing her to scrub Reece’s social media of any and all evidence of this party, and to double-check team members’ accounts as well.

Downstairs in the lobby, there was no sign of Savannah and Brook, and she prayed all evidence of their presence here had disappeared with them.

Behind her, the elevator door dinged open to reveal Ian.

He’d arranged his expression into something approximating contrition, although she doubted he’d ever experienced that emotion in his life.

“Over here.” She led him to a dark alcove off the lobby, where there was at least a chance of privacy. “What the hell are you doing here, Ian?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he said, smiling in that way he thought was charming.

She let out a scoff of laughter. “I sure was surprised. How dare you show up at my job like this?”

“But your boss loves us—”

“My boss is an idiot! This is my work . Putting me on the spot like this is an asshole move, and you know it.”

“I’m trying to show you how important you are to me, Violet. I dragged the band all the way to bloody Vegas to play that wanker’s party, just for a chance to show you—”

“Show me what?”

“That I love you. That I want you back.”

The words sent a shock of clarity through her. “You don’t love me, Ian. You don’t really love anybody besides yourself. And maybe Astrid a little bit. On her good days.”

Her rejection had rattled his confidence, she noted.

The seductive smile had vanished as he ran a hand through his sweaty hair in agitation.

“Yeah, I know I’m a mess. I’m broken, Sunshine, okay?

Is that what you want to hear? I am. My soul is broken.

But you …” He reached out and seized her hands, gripping hard. “You could fix me, Sunshine.”

“No one can fix you, Ian.” She tried freeing her hands, but he held on to her.

“You could, though,” he said. “You can do anything. You’re magic.

When you were around, the band was magic.

Don’t you remember when Rolling Stone said we were the tip of the spear of the next British Invasion?

They called us the next Oasis. Don’t you miss being a part of that?

I can get there, and you can be with me when I do.

You can be a part of the music. A part of the magic. ”

She stared into those familiar ice-blue eyes, processing that.

Processing everything . The thing was, she did miss the music.

She missed those days when something as simple as a bridge in a song, or a thumping bass line, or a chord progression would burrow into her brain and heart and preoccupy her for weeks.

“I do remember that,” she murmured.

Ian grinned, tugging her closer. “I knew you did. I remember everything, Sunshine. Every moment I spent with you. You remember us, too, don’t you?”

“Oh, I remember.”

He released her hands, sliding his palms up until he could grasp her upper arms. As he did it, he moved in even closer. She could smell the cigarettes he’d chain-smoked just before the set, and his sweat, tinged with that patchouli stuff he apparently still liked.

He was leaning in now, his face getting closer and closer to hers. She held still and let him come, watching his eyelids droop and his mouth soften as he got ready to kiss her. To her great relief, his nearness made her feel nothing. When he was just a breath away, she spoke again.

“I remember everything, too, Ian. That wasn’t fucking magic.” She braced her palms against his bare, sweaty chest and shoved hard. He stumbled back in surprise.

“That was muscle, Ian. Muscle and hard work. My muscle. My hard work. I’m not your manic pixie goth girl.

I’m a talented professional. Rolling fucking Stone didn’t say that about you.

I said it. Then I convinced that reporter it was his idea, because that’s what I do.

I convince the world that something’s brilliant and then I convince them that liking it was their idea all along. ”

A muscle ticked in his jaw, and she knew she’d hit him right where it hurt. Good. Ian’s ego could use a stiff kick in the bollocks.

“Fine,” he said at length. “You felt unappreciated. I guess I can see that. I suppose I can work on that. Making you feel like you’re a part of things.”

“Ian, you’re not listening. Yes, I felt unappreciated, but that was a long time ago.

Now I’m valued. My work is valued. And I am a part of things.

I’m part of this team and maybe it’s not easy, but what we’re doing …

” She cut herself off before she veered into the kind of impassioned pep talk that would have made Chase proud.

Chase.

“You can’t be serious. This racing team can’t matter more to you than the music. I know you, Sunshine.”

That fucking name. How had she ever thought it was sweet? It was like he was mocking her every time he said it, diminishing her until she was small enough for him to manage.

“Believe it or not, Ian, you aren’t the origin of all music. I still have music in my life even without you. We are over . I’ve already moved on. I’m seeing someone.”

She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. She hadn’t even fully come to terms with it in her mind. But she’d gotten over Ian, and now someone else was in the spot that used to belong to him, the one that had stood empty ever since. The one she’d thought would stay empty forever.

Chase valued her, and not just for the sex. How many times had he thanked her for what she’d done for him? How many times had he turned to her for advice, for guidance? How many times had he made it clear he couldn’t do it without her?

And these months with Pinnacle, she realized, mattered more to her than all the years she’d spent at Ian’s side, working so hard for an ounce of appreciation—something she now received every day.

“You mean that knobhead driver?” Ian waved away the idea.

“Chase is worth a hundred of you,” she said quietly. “A thousand. You’d better get back to finish your set. And tomorrow, I want you to leave and don’t look back. Because I won’t be there.”

He hesitated, watching her, and she could almost hear the wheels turning in his head as he assessed the situation, as he weighed pressing on or retreating. Finally, he smiled again. “Just think about it. Think about me.”

He snagged her hand, squeezing her fingers, and she wrenched them from his grip. “I don’t need to think about you. You do enough of that on your own. I now task you with the impossible: Get over yourself.”

She turned on her heel and strode away.

She doubted he’d even wait an hour before finding some other girl to fill his bed. But that was no longer any concern of hers.

She walked across the lobby to an alcove and sank into one of the club chairs, dropping her head into her hands.

It felt like she’d just surfaced after spending a long time …

days and months and years … underwater. She hadn’t even been aware of the weight of Ian and that old heartbreak until she’d shaken it off.

In the aftermath, she felt light. She felt free. She felt shockingly happy .

And the first thing she wanted to do was to see Chase. That should probably terrify her, and maybe tomorrow it would, but tonight, she just wanted him.

He was probably itching to escape the Arrow Beverages event by now, so she fired off a text to him. Heading back to my hotel. See you soon?

By the time she got back to her hotel, he still hadn’t answered. His text finally came as she was letting herself into her room.

Not tonight. Early flight tomorrow.

She blinked at his text, bewildered. They’d spent nights apart, when their travel schedules didn’t line up, or one of them had an early morning.

So why did this night feel so wrong?

Finally, she made herself reply.

Okay. See you in Mexico City?

By the time she went to bed, he still hadn’t replied.