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He tilted his head. “You’re here with me. Doesn’t that at least count for something?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, resisting the urge to kiss him. “You’re the only good thing in my life right now, H.”
Holt nudged my side as we stepped out of the airplane. “Listen, grumpy, we talked about this. You need to think of the brighter side.” His hazel eyes sparkled with happiness that I wished I could absorb into my body. “You’re alive, you’re here another day, and...” He wiggled his brows. “If you play your cards right, you might just get lucky tonight.”
At least my dick wasn’t feeling depressed, because just the mention of getting any, had it perking up and pressing at my zipper. When I wasn’t sleeping? I was all over Holt like a second skin. He didn’t seem to mind, though. He was more than happy to oblige when I woke him in the middle of the night, attacked him in the middle of the day, or found him when he was making dinner. As an athlete, my sex drive had always been high, but since my seizure? It seemed to have taken on a mind of its own. I simply couldn’t get enough of Holt.
Once at the track, I had every intention of making the rounds, saying hello to everyone, but the second I sat down? I fell asleep. It kind of made me feel useless, and when I woke up, Holt was cooking dinner.
“Good nap?” he teased, plating what looked pasta before he placed the strainer in the sink.
“This is fucking ridiculous.”
“We talked about this.”
I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t talk about anything.” I folded my arms over my chest. “I was told that this was going to happen. I didn’t have much of a choice because of the accident, and I had to go with it. All I’ve done is sleep, eat, and fuck for the past few days. I hate it. I’m miserable. I feel like life is passing me by. I’m just... I don’t...” I tried to swallow the lump in my throat as Holt rushed over to me.
“Watson.” He placed a hand on my thigh. “I can’t pretend to understand what you’re going through, but your body is healing. You can’t go through what you did and expect to just bounce back. You had a traumatic accident. You’re lucky to have walked away from it the way you did. Things could have gone a completely different way.” He squeezed my leg.
Tears stung my eyes, and I hung my head so he wouldn’t see them fall. “No one knows how hard it is to sit here while someone else is driving my damn car. It tears me up inside to not be out there. Ever since I can remember, all I wanted to do was this, and now that I’m to not be able to do it?” I glanced up to find Holt watching me. “It’s torture.”
“I know, baby,” he murmured.
“Maybe coming to the track isn’t such a good idea, you know? Maybe I should stay home. I mean, I want to be with you. I want to be wherever you are, but not like this. Not when it eats me up inside just hearing the cars and knowing I can’t...” A sob burst from my throat, but when I started to get up, embarrassed, Holt climbed into my lap and pressed my head into his neck.
I didn’t want to cry in front of him. It wasn’t the first time he had seen me like this. I’d had accidents before, although not as serious. Ones where I had broken an ankle, a foot, even my leg, but none of them had kept me from driving my car. I had always been able to get into the vehicle, drive it like I stole it, and that was what had mattered.
I clung to Holt like he was my lifeline. Because right now, he was the only good thing left in my life. The only thing keeping me from drowning.
Holt’s hands dragged through my hair as I let everything out. I cried like this might be it for my racing career. As if I might not ever get back into another car again and might have to change my entire life around. He didn’t say a word as sobs wracked my body, tears stained his shirt, or when I yanked him as close as he possibly could get to me, begging him to help me. Screaming that life wasn’t fair. That this was everything I had ever worked for, and I couldn’t ever see myself doing anything else.
When I had finally calmed down, which could have been seconds, minutes, or hours later, Holt pulled back to cup my face in his hands. “I love you.” The words sounded so perfect coming from his lips. “I’m not saying that to try to make you feel better about this situation. I’m saying that because it’s true. I love you, Watson.” His lips slid over mine, in spite of the fact that my face was a wet and snotty mess.
“Would you go with me if I had to leave all this? If I had to do something other than racing?”
“I’ll go wherever you are, Watson James. We’re a team, a packaged deal.”
I felt my chin start to tremble again. “Holt.” My voice cracked as I spoke his name.
“It’s okay, baby. I know.” He pressed his forehead against mine, brushing the fresh tears from my cheeks with his thumbs.
I managed a small smile. “I don’t think I’ll ever be good enough for you, but I’m going to try like hell. Do you hear me? To give you everything you deserve, to make you as happy as you have made me these past few days. You’re so fucking amazing.”
His cheeks grew pink, and his eyes lit up. It made my heart ache and my whole body come to life.
“You already make me happy,” Holt assured me.
***
By the time we got back to North Carolina on Sunday night, I was starting to feel a little better. I was still sleeping more than I wanted, but it wasn’t bothering me quite as much. I realized that if this was the end, if I truly never wasn’t able to get into a car again, my life wasn’t going to end. I had Holt, he loved me, and that made me happier than anything ever had.
Tuesday afternoon, we walked into an out of the way restaurant to have lunch with Matthias and Killian after Matthias had texted Holt to see if he was busy. When Holt suggested it, I thought it sounded like a great idea, but now I wasn’t so sure.
“What if I fall asleep?” I squeezed his hand tightly.
Holt smiled at me. The smile that he always gave me that sent my stomach into a twist. Like someone had released butterflies inside of it.
“I’ll move your food so you don’t make a mess,” he teased.
