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“Nope.” I combed my hand through his hair. “What do you think we should do with our lives now that my racing career is over? Travel the world?”
“Watson.” His voice shook.
“Start a band? Oh, maybe Killian will let us open for him?”
“Watson.” A sob escaped Holt’s throat.
I pulled back. “Baby, it sucks, yeah, but I’m not going to let it ruin my entire life.” I dragged a thumb over his face to collect the tears that had started to fall. “I have you, you love me, and as far as I’m concerned, that makes me the luckiest fucker in the world.”
Holt smiled. “I’m the luckiest fucker in the world.” He chuckled. “What about starting your own race team?”
“Holy shit.” I stared at him. “You’re so smart, baby.”
A blush creeped up his neck. “It makes sense, right? Find a driver or two, get the money you need with some partners. You’ll be unstoppable.”
“Mason would do it. I know he’s not happy with his team.”
“What about Shepard?”
I chewed on my lip. “I don’t know, maybe?” A smile spread over my face. “This could totally work.”
“Yeah?” Holt asked.
“We could start a race team,” I whispered. “Watson and Holt. Not me, us.”
Holt stared at me. “You want that with me?”
“Baby, I want everything with you. I’m not doing it without you, remember?”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Holt
Watson was released from the hospital two weeks after he woke up from his coma. Mom tried to get us to come and stay with her, but neither one of us wanted that. We hadn’t been alone together in weeks, and we were both desperate for each other.
“I can’t promise you this place isn’t a mess,” I teased as I opened the door to the apartment, but the second Watson stepped inside, he grabbed me and shoved me against the wall. “Hi.” I gasped as he pinned his large body over mine.
