Page 31 of Rear View

Ryah

“Three right into two left long, one fifty,” Alec said, his voice carrying through my bulky headphones at the Emerald Cove Circuit the next morning.

Earl and the rest of the team stood huddled around a series of monitors, closer to the opening.

The one they had me and Sheila in front of was off to the side, and out of the way, which was fine by me.

I’d watched Xavier’s races before, but being there in person, the crispness in the air, sounds and scents of the engines, and that palpable, excited energy, added a whole other layer to it—one that had my heart pumping overtime.

His car drifted, kicking up snow in a wide, high arc. It coated the trees and the spectators there.

Cameras were everywhere—between him and Alec, on the dash, angled at their faces, on the hood of the car, at every turn and straightaway. There wasn’t a second missed.

“One left, short,” Alec said.

“What’s he saying?” I asked.

“They’re directions,” Sheila replied. “The smaller the number, the sharper the turn.”

They were so calm. Steady. Xavier’s eyes were focused, locked on the terrain ahead of him. The trust between the two—their lives were in each other’s hands. Literally. Alec to guide, Xavier to control.

The screen showed their speed at 186 kph, and the sight of it had my pulse thrashing in my ears. One wrong move. Just one.

My eyes were wide when they found Sheila’s. “How do you do this?”

She shook her head. “Barely.”

A single day I’d been there and my knees were already weak. I didn’t know how I’d last the weekend.

“Last stage for today,” Sheila said, hands gripping her legs.

My gaze flicked to the time on the leaderboard and my heart leaped into my throat. They led the clock by 3.3 seconds. If they just held…

“Hey, dude,” Yara yelled. “Crews only. You can’t be back here.”

My head snapped that way. A man dressed in all black stood about thirty feet to my right. His hood was drawn, his face obscured, but the vibe he gave off…

I froze, breath seizing in my lungs. “That’s creepy,” I said, my voice tight.

Sheila waved it off. “People try to sneak into these places all the time. The fans can be a little, ugh…unruly.” She laughed. “For the most part, they’re harmless.”

The guy shoved his hands in his pockets and pivoted away, fading into the distance.

Swallowing hard, I turned back to the screen.

Xavier snapped the shifter forward, accelerating. The speedometer ticked up to 197 kph as they closed in on the end.

Oh, God. My hand landed over my chest. Sheila grabbed my wrist. Xavier hit an incline at the end and the car went airborne. They did a flying finish, crossing the line a full five seconds under the others.

Sheila and I tore off our headphones and jumped, our shrieks lost against the roar of the team. They still had the second leg the next day, but they were in the lead. They were in the lead!

A short while later, their car rumbled up.

Xavier and Alec climbed out while Yara and the rest of their crew rushed them.

Hands thumped their backs and helmets. Trina scurried over in her shiny red heels and threw her arms around Xavier’s neck.

My stomach dropped until he straightened and peeled them off, stepping around her.

When he flipped up his visor, those arctic eyes searched the Parc Ferme until they locked on me.

He cut through the crowd, and I bounced in place while he closed the distance between us. Pulling off his helmet, he set it aside, his hair a sexy mess as he offered me a sideways grin. Bending, he hooked an arm under my ass and lifted, pressing me to his side.

I squeaked as I wrapped my legs around his waist and gripped the high collar of his racing suit. A blush burned my cheeks when I tucked my face into the curve of his throat. “You killed it out there!”

His mouth found my ear, his voice low and sincere when he asked, “Yeah?”

It was like he wanted the confirmation. Needed to hear those words from my lips. To know I thought he was capable of something great. But he wasn’t just capable, he was great.

“Yeah. You did.” I slipped my arms around his neck and kissed the corner of his sharp jaw. “I might even be a fan.”

A brash smirk crawled across his lips.

Alec pulled Sheila in for a hug and the two spoke quietly, smiles on their faces.

“We should do dinner. Celebrate,” I volunteered before I eyed Xavier and said, “I know the race isn’t over yet, but this is exciting.” Then I added, “My treat.”

Alec laughed.

Xavier’s head drew back. “Like hell you’re payin’.”

My mouth dropped, ready to protest.

“Them’s the rules, darlin’. I don’t make ’em.”

I latched on to his racing suit’s zipper. “You literally just did.”

He winked and the heat that pooled between my thighs had me clenching him tighter. His stare narrowed, turning hungry, while his hands sank deeper into my flesh.

“Did someone say dinner?” Yara poked her head between us. “I’m in.”

Within seconds, the whole team was too, deciding on a local pub with an eclectic menu of options for everyone.

Trina cleared her throat and tapped her black-painted nails on X’s shoulder. “The press conference starts in five.”

He inclined his head, then reached into his pocket and pulled something out. Looping his key chain around his finger, he stroked it, almost absentmindedly.

I smiled as I shimmied out of his arms. “Can I watch?” I asked. Then for good measure, I added, “From the sidelines?” Because the last thing I wanted was my face plastered anywhere public.

He sealed his hand over mine. “You want that?”

The excitement in that question made my pulse race a little faster.

Like it meant everything to him. Like the idea I wanted to be there was a foreign concept.

My stomach dropped when the truth hit. Because it was foreign.

He had no family there. No one in his corner.

He’d steered his own life and seen success in spite of his past. Alone.

If I understood anything, it was that .

“Yeah,” I breathed.

Earl sauntered over, a smile splitting his face. “You boys ready?”

“On our way,” Alec said.

Earl guided Xavier, me, Alec, Sheila and Trina through a series of connected buildings to a press junket room.

Xavier led, steering me toward the edge of the staging area, in line with him, but out of sight of the media. Peering down at me over his shoulder, he asked, “You alright here?”

It was open, minus the red partition-style curtains that hung and the odd pieces of electronic gear that littered the wall.

The light from the junket room barely skimmed the inside, which meant there was no chance of my face ending up on camera.

But in truth, I’d be alright anywhere he was. I nodded. “Perfect.”

He pivoted to face me, those eyes tracking between mine. “Yeah. You fuckin’ are.”

My breath hitched, and my heart fluttered around clumsily in my chest. I pushed up onto my toes and he gripped the back of my neck, pressing his mouth to mine in a bruising kiss.

Pulling back, he promised, “This shouldn’t take long.” Then he left, striding out onto the stage all sex appeal, confidence and swagger like he owned the place. Because he did.

And he owned me too.

Cameras clicked and flashed, lighting the front of the room with the power of a hundred suns while Alec and Xavier pulled their seats back and took them.

My rally boy adjusted his mic, linked his hands, rested his forearms on the table and graced the media with his overpowering presence. “Let’s get this shit show started, shall we?”

A rumble of laughter rolled through the room, followed by shouts of “Xavier!” when each reporter vied for his attention.

My heart swelled. I was happy for him. Happy for them. Just…happy.

He tipped his head toward an older female reporter in the second row, giving her first go.

“Anna Pronger from Sports Weekly . This question is for both of you. You’re new to WRC3, but already in competition for the lead. You’re climbing the rankings fast. To what do you contribute such rapid success?”

Popping a shoulder, Xavier said, “The team.”

“Who’re you?” a hard voice said from behind me.

My spine seized and I turned. A man stood there, his brow furrowed low. Close. Dangerously close. I tried to speak, but my throat closed over, stealing my voice.

“She’s Xavier’s girlfriend,” Sheila spat, her stare raking him up and down. “Who are you?”

He cocked his head, a bizarre interest twigging in his eyes. Not sexual, but predatory in its own right. “Derek. His uncle.”

Uncle? My gaze narrowed, taking in his height, and the sharp angles of his jaw. There was something there. His eyes weren’t arctic, but the coldness in them had me taking a step back.

“When did you two meet?” he asked.

I frowned deeply. When did we meet? What the hell? “Huh?”

The media laughed at something Xavier said in the background.

Derek folded his arms over his chest. “Tough question, is it?”

Xavier’s family or not, the man was an ass.

I twisted my sleeve, my gaze flicking around as if a way out might suddenly appear. I just wanted him to leave me alone, and maybe answering would get him to back off. “A while ago. Why?”

He scoffed. “Where’s Lorelei?”

Lorelei? Who’s Lorelei? “What?”

“Pretty face, but not the brightest, are you?” He shook his head. “Did he tell you anything about his mother?” he asked, enunciating each word as if I were slow.

Oh, God! His uncle, looking for his mother. A mother Xavier didn’t want to be found. Every instinct in me screamed this was about his dad. I took a steadying breath. Stand tall, Ryah. Stand tall. “I’m not sure that’s any of your business.”

Sheila’s eyes were wide as they darted toward the stage before returning to Derek. “Who let you in here?”

His scowl was dark. “Family’s always welcome.”

My stomach twisted as I took another step back. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

“I highly suggest you go, Derek. Now ,” Sheila warned.

He eyed her up and down. “I’m not done here.”

The drum of fast-approaching footfalls closed in. I turned in time to see Xavier stalking toward us, his fury-filled eyes hard as ice. Arm shooting out, he shoved Derek, who careened back several feet.

X squared himself to his uncle, hands fisted by his sides, tendons straining against his skin as he snarled through his teeth, “Step the fuck off.” Taking my wrist, he drew me behind him.

Alec took position at Xavier’s side. “Too goddamn far, Derek.”

“Xavier!” Earl called in warning.

But if Xavier heard, he didn’t acknowledge it, because his rage was fixed on his uncle.

Earl cursed before he and Trina blocked the side of the stage from the cameras, and people behind the scenes crowded in.

Derek advanced a step and crossed his arms over his chest. “Where’s your mother?”

Slicing his head to the side, Xavier said, “Ain’t tellin’ you.”

“You need to start talking, boy.”

Xavier released me and edged closer. “And you need to fuckin’ stop.”

Trina’s wild gaze moved from face to face as if she was seeking a solution or help, before she called, “Security!”

Several seconds later, two guards in navy-blue uniforms stalked in. She pointed to Derek, so they moved forward, flanking him.

“You can’t be back here, sir,” the larger of the two said. He gestured to the exit. “Move along.”

Stabbing a finger Xavier’s way, Derek vowed, “This isn’t done.” He glared, offered a mocking smile, then stepped around our group and stormed off.

Xavier flexed his hands at his sides, his forearms cording when he rolled his shoulders, stare-hunting his uncle as he vanished from sight.