Page 18 of Lights Out (Love in the Paddock #1)

As soon as I get back in my hotel room, I pull the friendship bracelet out of my pocket and stare at it again.

Caleb has asked me to get a coffee tonight.

There is no doubt in my mind the rumors are beginning to circulate that I’m doing him or something.

I exhale loudly, a huge puff of air escaping my lips.

I can’t control what people think. I can’t help that Caleb and I get on well and he trusts me.

Any reporter would have jumped at the chance to do those segments.

I’m just going to have to hold my head up and ignore the rumors that are bound to be swirling around me.

Is Caleb interested in me? Yes. Could that have spurred him to give me these opportunities? Also yes.

But I didn’t date him—or do him—in order to secure them.

I flop backward on the luxurious duvet and feel my body sink into it. I hold my bracelet up and study it, staring at the invitation, tracing my fingers over the letters.

While I know what I should say, my heart is fiercely fighting back.

Even though I was doing an interview with him, I liked the man who sat across from me this afternoon. I enjoyed conversing with him and hearing his answers.

I liked what I heard. If we had been alone, on a date?

I would have said that was the most interesting conversation I’d ever had with a man.

Okay, to be fair, I haven’t dated since my junior year at Georgia, but I was dating boys.

Caleb is a MAN.

He’s quick. Funny. Intelligent. If I were to get in a real conversation with him, without the camera, I think he would show depth, too.

I do some time-zone math in my head. I need to talk to Hadleigh. She knows me better than anyone—well, outside my mom, and I really don’t want to have a conversation with her about Caleb. I need my best friend’s advice. It’s four o’clock here, which means it’s ten in the morning in Miami.

She’s at work, and she’s pretty quick to answer text messages. I set the bracelet aside and reach for my bag, fishing my phone out of it. My thumbs fly across the keyboard as I send her a text:

H, I need help. I’m losing my mind. And yes, it’s over a hot F1 driver. Just doing a fun, irreverent-style interview with him has me thinking of doing really stupid, bad, horrible things.

I put the phone down as I wait for her answer. I stare at the bracelet again, picturing Caleb stringing the letters together to ask the question. Then I smile as I remember him telling me about his love of weird foam shrimp and the scent of pink grapefruit an—

Buzz!

I pick up the phone and tap open Hadleigh’s answer:

If doing stupid and horrible things means having hot sex with a hot F1 driver in a secret corner of the garage, I AM ALL FOR IT.

GAH this is not helpful. I reply:

Ignoring that bit of feedback. Every time I talk to Caleb, I find myself liking him more than I did the previous time.

Like take the racing out of it. Take money out of it.

In the small bits of time I have with him, I find him interesting.

Funny. Sharp. I … like him. If he were anyone else, if he were in a different sport, I would have already agreed to a date with him.

I swallow as I hit send. This is the only person I can admit having this feeling to.

My mom and dad would come down on the side of protecting my professional reputation.

Despite Hadleigh’s first comment, she’s an analyst. She’s good at pros and cons and being clinical when it comes to looking at a situation.

In other words, you only ask for her opinion if you want the brutal truth.

I glance down as another text drops in from her:

So the only reason you’re saying no is because of how this will look professionally? Or are there other reasons?

I give Hadleigh credit. She always makes me think. I respond:

The professional angle is holding me back.

It’s not like I have years of credibility under my belt with The Downforce Network.

I know they wouldn’t like a reporter dating an F1 driver.

I also know I will be the topic of gossip already for the interview I scored.

There will be a lot of talk of how I got it.

If I were seen going on a date with him? It would be HORRIBLE for my reputation.

Hadleigh Vanderburg is typing …

Okay. There’s already gossip. Because let’s face it, Caleb likes you.

That’s why you got the interviews. You haven’t dated him to get them, and he hasn’t granted them in return for a date first, but this is going to be the gossip anyway.

I say get to know him, and if things get serious—and you happen to be working at The Downforce Network—then go to the higher-ups and talk about it.

They might have a problem with it. I don’t know.

But I don’t think this would impact any corporate sponsorships that are headed your way—more publicity for them.

A lot of your social media audience will like it.

Some will hate it and will hate YOU for getting the object of their desire, so you need to factor that in, too.

I groan. Hadleigh has brought up things I hadn’t thought about. You know, like getting death threats if I start dating Caleb.

Because I know other F1 WAGS have received them. And other hateful, scary, and cruel messages on social media.

Social media. It’s helped build my career, but it can be beyond disturbing at the same time.

I text her back:

You’re right about all of this. I’ll just have to prove myself by continuing to do other pieces of content for the network—if they ask me—and on my channels to fight what is already being said.

And I haven’t said yes to his invite yet.

H, he asked me out for coffee tonight. Using a FRIENDSHIP brACELET.

I see Hadleigh is immediately responding to that, and then I get her message:

WAY TO BURY THE LEDE, ISLA! HE ASKED YOU OUT WITH A FRIENDSHIP brACELET?????

I giggle and begin to type a response, but another one drops in from Hadleigh:

IF YOU DO NOT SAY YES, YOU ARE INSANE. Caleb freaking Collings asked you out with a FRIENDSHIP brACELET. He put THOUGHT into this. HE LIKES YOU. He hasn’t implied he’s aiming to get straight into your panties. MY GOD, HE MIGHT BE A GLOBAL TREASURE.

I burst out laughing and finish my message:

You’re right on all fronts. I think if this were about sex, he’d make that clear.

I don’t think he’d be wasting his time making friendship bracelets and asking me to coffee.

He’d be asking me to his motorhome. Or asking to come up to my room.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but you know I don’t do hookups. I’m a relationship-type girl.

Hadleigh Vanderburg is typing …

Of course, I still think there’s something to ripping off that driving suit, peeling off the fireproof shirt, and taking him against a garage wall if you were to experiment with a hookup …

That image flashes through my mind, and this freezing hotel room is now stifling hot.

Another message drops in from Hadleigh:

Just sit with it for a bit. Don’t be afraid to follow your gut, even if it tells you something you don’t expect. You know I was teasing you about saying yes. Your gut has always led you to the right place, and it won’t fail you now. LOVE YOU!!

I put the phone down and pick up the bracelet.

I think of Caleb’s eyes when he understood I wasn’t going to grill him on his family secrets during our interview.

I think of how hard he laughed at something I said.

I think of Silverstone and Monaco and his delight over weird foam candy. I know the risks.

My career, for one.

But what about the other risk? That if I don’t take this chance, I could miss out on someone really special? Someone who could change the rest of my life.

I slide the bracelet onto my wrist, and as I do, my heart pounds inside my chest.

As I stare down at the bracelet Caleb made for me, my gut says I must say, without a doubt, YES to his invitation.

* * *

I take a breath as I look in the bathroom mirror.

I’m about ready to meet Caleb for coffee, and there’s this jittery, electric energy that is practically humming through my body.

I’ve pulled out my black fit-and-flare midi dress with a ruffled off-the-shoulder neckline.

I used my jumbo curling iron to put some waves back into my hair, and redid my face so it’s not TV makeup, but something I’d wear on a date.

I swallow.

A date.

A date with Caleb Collings.

A date that could make my life messy and complicated career-wise if I like him as much as I think I could. I’m playing with fire, and I know it.

Yet here I am, going to get coffee with him to see what he’s really about. I want to see him without a camera on, when I can ask questions that aren’t for an interview.

And see if he’s as incredible as I think he might be.

I grab my perfume bottle off the marble countertop and spritz some on my neck and my nape. The scent of sea salt with a hint of caramel fills the air, and I can’t help but wonder if Caleb will like it.

I glance down at my watch and note it’s about fifteen minutes until I’m supposed to meet him.

I leave the bathroom, drape my purse over my shoulder, and retrieve the key card that I had lying out on the dresser.

I leave the room and make my way toward the elevator, my stomach tingling the entire time.

I still can’t believe this whole day happened.

I interviewed Caleb for The Downforce Network.

I stood my ground on a closed set and won.

I had an early dinner with Derna, Allyson, and Melody at a little café not far from here and it was fun.

They were welcoming and kind, and Derna and Melody really liked how I approached the interview today.

Both of them have been working for the network for years, and they had never seen Caleb look so relaxed and happy when talking to the media, which made me so happy inside.

Then came the surprise, which I can’t wait to tell Caleb about over coffee.