Page 46 of Kiss & Collide (Racing Hearts #2)

Miami, Florida

C hase let himself back into his luxury hotel suite and dropped his shoulder bag with a sigh, surveying the room. Across from him, through a wall of glass, the skyline of Miami glittered.

He crossed to the glossy black bar where liquor bottles glinted subtly under the recessed lighting, and poured himself a finger of scotch.

Then he dropped onto the plush white leather sofa and propped his feet on the glass-topped coffee table.

There was a massive flat-screen on the wall, but he didn’t turn it on.

Instead, he just tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling.

If someone had told him a year ago that he’d be here in this suite, flush with new sponsor money, driving for one Formula One team with an offer from another team—one of the best teams—on the table, he’d have laughed in their face.

He’d done it. He’d achieved everything he’d ever wanted. Before Miami, he’d stopped in New York for a round of meetings with Jeff. He was about to line up enough in sponsorship deals to make his head spin. He hadn’t just hung on to his spot in F1; he was about to ascend to the apex of the sport.

So why was he sitting here filled with misery?

Because she was still gone.

He hadn’t heard a word from Violet since he’d walked out of her hotel room in Mexico City. Today had been open practice, so he thought he might finally see her at the track, but she never showed.

He scrubbed his hands over his face and growled in frustration before shoving himself back up to his feet.

It was time to quit mooning over her. He was in Miami to race, and that’s what he needed to focus on.

Tomorrow was qualifying. He’d order some room service and get a decent night’s sleep, and he would absolutely not keep obsessing over Violet.

He was in the bedroom, in the middle of digging sleep pants and a T-shirt out of his suitcase, when he heard a knock at the door of the suite.

Immediately his pulse picked up. These days, for security reasons, only a small handful of people knew where his hotel suite was, and an even smaller handful would show up unannounced.

It might be her. It was probably her. God, he wanted it to be her.

When he swung the door open, Violet was standing on the other side and something clenched tight inside his chest suddenly released. She was here .

This was a different Violet, the one he remembered from last season. She was wearing shredded black jeans and a faded Ramones T-shirt. She hadn’t straightened her hair, and it tumbled in tousled black waves around her shoulders.

“Hi,” she said, eyes wide and fixed on him.

“Hey.”

She swallowed hard enough that he could see her throat move. “Can I come in?” He was usually the one to ask that.

Wordlessly, he moved aside. When he’d fastened the security latch, he turned to see her over by the wall of glass, looking out at the view.

“Nice room.”

“Formula One doesn’t suck.”

She didn’t reply, just rubbed her palms down her thighs.

“What’s up, Violet?” he finally said, to break the silence.

Violet wasn’t one for lingering goodbyes, so just the fact that she was here sent a tendril of hope sprouting up in his heart, but he couldn’t bear to get ahead of himself.

She’d been pretty final when she’d sent him packing.

If she’d changed her mind, she was going to have to say so, and explain why.

“I’m not good at this,” she murmured, running one fingertip down the glass.

“At what?”

“Apologies. I owe you one.”

Part of him wanted to accept it immediately.

Fine. All is forgiven. Just come back. But as impulsive as he was on the track, some sense of self-preservation had him hesitating now.

He needed more than “I’m sorry,” which she hadn’t said yet.

So instead of pulling her into his arms and keeping her there, he stayed silent, leaning against the back of the sofa, watching her shoulders rise and fall as she considered.

“I, um … things are complicated. It’s about more than just you. And me.” She paused and cleared her throat. “You and me.”

“What else is it about?” he finally asked. If she said Ian’s name, he was going to start breaking shit.

She bowed her head, inhaled deeply, then turned to face him. “Carter’s about to sell the team.”

That was … not at all what he was expecting her to say.

He absorbed that piece of information. “Not all that surprising. He never wanted Pinnacle, right? And maybe it’s a good thing. If Carter goes, so does Reece, and—”

“He wants to sell us to some private equity outfit.”

“Shit.” He knew what that meant. Everyone had seen what happened to Affinity.

“So you see,” Violet continued. “I couldn’t let you fuck around with an offer from Allegri. If they wanted to sign you, you needed to take it. I couldn’t let you make that kind of mistake, not when I knew what was coming.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Carter made me promise to keep it confidential. But fuck that.” She lifted her hands and let them drop. “None of us might have jobs in a year’s time. Fuck the rules.”

He considered her words, scowling at the floor. “But that doesn’t explain why you pushed me away. Only why you wanted me to take that job, and—”

She cut him off. “The rest was just me being … me.” She squeezed her eyes shut briefly and tipped her head back. “Somebody said something to me—”

“Who?” Who was the asshole who’d caused this nightmare? Chase wanted to track them down and—

“It was nobody who mattered. And what they said shouldn’t have mattered. But it just …” She shook her head in frustration. “It got inside my head. It made me … doubt.”

“Doubt me?” Surely she must see how wild he was for her.

“No, not you. He made me doubt myself. Who I am. And … what I’m capable of.”

“What are you trying to say, Violet?”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I’m sorry I’m the way I am. I’m sorry I’m so angry and mean and … scared.” Finally, she looked directly at him, her dark blue eyes meeting his. “Mostly I’m just scared.”

“Of what?”

“Me. Losing myself in you. I’ve done that before and I’ve spent all this time since then trying to make up for that mistake.”

She paused, and the instinct to rush in and reassure her was strong, but he resisted, staying quiet, letting her say what she had to say. As hopeful as her arrival made him feel, he was still smarting, feeling the ache of this past week.

“But I’ve been doing some thinking,” she finally said. “And I’ve figured some things out.”

“Like what?”

She lifted her eyes to his again, a quick, anxious glance that told him all he needed to know about how hard this was for her. “You’ve never tried to erase me. You’ve never taken what I’ve done for you for granted.”

“Of course not. Who would do that?”

At that, she cracked a small smile. She looked tired, stressed, like the week apart had been as hard on her as it had been on him. “Guess.”

“That fucking wanker,” Chase groaned.

“You stole my word.” Her small smile grew, and he felt himself smiling in return, like the distance between them had shrunk and the coldness had thawed. “There’s something else I want to say,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“You’ve made me feel like I’m a part of something. The team, but also … me and you. It’s important, and it matters to me. A lot. I mean, you should have seen me talking to Rabia the other day. I was all ‘hope’ and ‘team spirit.’ Bloody disgusting.” But she was still smiling.

And he was too, mostly because he felt like he couldn’t stop. That coldness had turned to warmth, a huge swell of it in his chest, threatening to spill out all over the place. “And me?”

She met his eyes again, and this time she didn’t look away. “You matter. More than you can imagine.”

He pushed off the back of the couch and crossed to where she still stood by the windows, like she’d grown roots. She was so tense all over, her expression anxious and her body rigid, like she was still half expecting disaster.

“You matter to me, too,” he said gently, trying to reassure her. He took a step closer and reached for her hand. She let him take it, but her fingers were curled in tight against her palm. He turned her hand over and began smoothing out each finger.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” she said quietly. “I’ll probably do it again at some point. I’m not good at this. But I promise, I’ll try.”

“You’re better than you think, Violet. It’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

Her hand was splayed open now, and he rubbed his thumb across her palm. She was chewing on her bottom lip, watching his fingers tangling with hers. Then her eyes lifted to his again. “What if you hurt me?” she whispered, almost too soft to hear.

Ah, there it was. The root of all of it.

Her armor was off now and he could see what was underneath, a girl so scared of being hurt that she never gave anyone a chance to do it to her.

He reached out a hand to cup her cheek, rubbing his thumb across her full bottom lip.

“I promise, I don’t want to ever hurt you.

I know I’m asking a lot, asking you to trust me. ”

“I trust you,” she said, holding on to his wrist. “I really do. But it’s not easy. Trust.”

“I think it might get easier the more you do it.”

Resolve flickered across her face, an expression he was much more familiar with coming from Violet. Then she reached up and took his face in her hands. “I care about you, Chase. I want to try this again.”

He let out a gusty sigh. “Oh, thank god. Being sad and angsty really doesn’t work for me.”

She laughed, just a soft huff, but her whole face transformed when she did it. She gazed up at him with something he was coming to recognize as fondness. “No, it doesn’t. You should never be sad. It’s not who you are.”

Then she leaned up and pressed her lips against his. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in tight against his body.

“I missed you,” he murmured against her mouth when they briefly broke apart.