Page 10

CHAPTER 10

Senna

“Just don’t tell anyone, okay?” Connor says to Silas as I walk into the gym.

“Tell anyone what?” I ask before I see him for the first time since the race in Bahrain days earlier.

Connor pounds the treadmill. His baggy shorts ripple, and sweat drips down his bare chest. Drops slide across tattoos that I’ve never seen in the flesh. My tongue swells as I take in the whole delicious look complete with a backwards cap. I focus on his eyes for fear that my face will reveal the fantasies that are desperately clawing through my consciousness. I shouldn’t have come down here.

Connor winks at me, and I glare before forcing myself to focus on Silas, who is making notes on a tablet.

“Tell anyone what?” I repeat. My voice rasps this time.

“I didn’t want Silas to tell anyone that I got a request from my agent. He asked if I would do a naked photo shoot,” he pants as he runs, but his stare never leaves mine. A drop of sweat rests in the bow of his full lips. Fuck. I want to lick it. “They asked for the driver with the biggest dick.”

Silas chokes.

“You’re such a liar. I’ll find out what you’re hiding,” I reply.

“I’ll show it to you anytime you want, but only if you ask, because consent is important to me.”

I close my eyes and count to five. Consent is nearly as sexy as the image of a nearly naked, sweating Connor Dane in a backwards cap, bracketing me with his arms as he asks me how much I want to see what is hidden underneath his boxers. I shake my head.

“Are you blushing, boss?”

“No, I’m just pissed off, as my day is going to fuck, which brings me to you.” I force a smile. “Firstly, we need to talk about your race at the weekend. How are you doing?”

His eye twitches, and he looks down and focuses on the treadmill. “I’m grand.”

I debate my options. I need his truth, but we’re not at a stage where he can trust me. “Okay, maybe it’s not the time for a review.” He continues to avoid eye contact. “I do need a favour, though.”

He stares at me with a furrowed brow, and for some hellish reason, it makes my heart beat faster than when he smirks and winks.

I clear my throat. “I need you to do a meet-and-greet for a competition winner. Antoine was booked to do it, but he’s disappeared and isn’t answering calls. The guests are arriving in fifteen minutes.”

“You’re done,” Silas comments.

Connor jumps off the treadmill and wipes his body with a towel. “What’s in it for me?” he asks before slowly licking the bead of sweat on his cupid’s bow.

My breath hitches.

“What do you want?”

He lifts his eyebrows twice quickly, and I ready myself to knock him out. “I’m your boss, Dane, not one of your grid honeys.”

He squeezes his lips like he’s trying not to laugh. “Grid honeys. That’s a new one.” He wipes down his chest. I want to study the tattoos. Fuck, if I’m being honest, I want to trace them with my tongue. “Boss, could you call my sister?”

“Layla?”

“Yeah, she’s at university studying for a career in comms, maybe social media. It would make a huge difference for her to speak to an expert and trailblazer like you.”

My mouth drops. Maybe he’s only saying it to get me to do him a favour, but that’s one of the biggest compliments I’ve had from anyone, and it came from Connor fucking Dane.

“Okay,” I reply, my throat drier than a Finnish sauna.

“Nice. She should be free now. I’ll message you her number before I shower.”

I nod my thanks and start towards the exit. That’s an image I don’t need, but my mind still fills with Connor leaning against a shower wall, his hand sliding down to his?—

“And Senna,” he says. I turn back. “I would have done it for you anyway. I hate Antoine, and if I can make him look even more like the shit he is, the better.”

I take a breath, but of course, he’s not finished.

“And I love it when you tell me what to do. I’m here for all your requests.”

He winks, and the image changes to me directing him to stroke himself in the shower.

My mobile rings. It’s my dad. I cancel it as I walk out.

“A million thank yous, Miss Coulter. It’s been so helpful to chat with you,” Layla replies from my laptop screen. She’s got the same dark hair and full lips as her brother, and although they have blue eyes, Layla’s are brighter and hidden by glasses. She has two cute dimples when she smiles. The Dane family are too beautiful for words.

“You don’t need to call me Miss Coulter, Layla. I remember chasing you with Connor around the house when you were in a nappy and you’d stolen his favourite cap. Senna is fine.”

Layla laughs. “Okay. Thank you, Senna. You always were lovely to have around, and you made Connor a much nicer older brother.”

“For real?” I ask as I note things I’ve promised to send her.

“Nah, he’s always been the best, but you helped him through those tricky teenage years. At least, that’s what Mum said.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay in touch after the accident. I should have, but…”

She shrugs. “It’s okay. It was a difficult time for all of us. We had a lot going on, with Dad leaving and then Mum and me moving to the middle of nowhere in Scotland.”

“What? That happened around the same time?”

Layla nods. “A lot happened, while you were recovering, but Connor looked after Mum and me, ensuring we were comfortable and had money to relocate. There were desperate moments when he lost his funding from your dad, but then Lapoire recruited him into Formula Two.”

My blood runs cold. I didn’t know my dad cut Connor’s funding or about his dad. I knew Connor had signed to Lapoire and moved to Formula Two. It makes sense. My dad could be a petty bastard.

“He must have been delighted when he was recruited.” I force a smile.

“Yes and no. That’s when Connor told Dad he could focus on being with our family rather than spending all his weekends and evenings coaching Connor. Dad announced he was only staying with Mum because of Connor’s career and went off with one of the women he was secretly sleeping with.” Layla lifts her glasses and rubs her eyes. “Dad nearly destroyed us, and Connor felt guilty for starting that snowball that turned into an avalanche. But we’re better off for it. Don’t tell Connor I told you all this. I know he’s private about things, but this is stuff he should have told you at the time. If not for Niki, I’m not sure if he would’ve gotten through it.”

I’d never thought about what Connor was doing while I was in the hospital. I was selfish, convinced by other drivers that he’d done it on purpose, especially after he was accepted into Formula Two.

I fist my cuffs out of shot. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for him.”

“Things happen. A lot was going on, and you were traumatised because of the crash. I only know some of this because of conversations I’ve overheard and what Mum said. I just wanted you to know that Connor isn’t your enemy. He acts up and is a dickhead sometimes, but he’s a good guy. Just give him a chance, yeah?”

I nod. In the little image of me at the bottom of the screen, my forehead is lined, and my face is pale. I need to see Connor, even though there’s much to process.

“Send me the stuff for when you write your dissertation, and I’ll give you some thoughts. And if you ever want a job, we’d love to have you here.”

“I want to earn that job. I know that’s what you did at Coulter. Connor told me you’ve had to fight for respect and your roles. You’re an incredible woman, Senna. Connor speaks highly of you…most of the time. But please don’t talk to him about anything I said.”

I grip my desk, debating my options, but Layla’s wincing face makes me agree. “Okay, I promise.”

“Thank you. Bye, Senna.”

“Bye, Layla.” I smile as I hang up.

I don’t know how to work through everything Layla shared.

“Jimmy, could you find out where the meet-and-greet with the competition winner is right now?” I shout to my assistant as I grab my phone.

As I leave my office, Jimmy pulls up the itinerary. “They should be in the showroom. By the way, your dad called again. He wants to speak to you about Connor’s ‘shitty driving’ during the race.”

“If he calls again, tell him I’m in meetings all day,” I reply and head to the lift.

I can’t speak to Connor about Layla’s revelations, but I need to be close to him.