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I open my visor, feeling the wind, breathing in the pine woods and musky scent. With each increase of speed, my old self cracks through the shell, resurfacing, ready to take over.
I feel like I’m resurrecting from the dead.
My smile is set in stone, and too soon we head back for the tracks, so I pull down the visor to cover my eyes.
I race some of the guys, with Damon’s beautiful voice echoing through my thoughts telling me tobe careful.
I don’t risk my life today, though, trying hard not to push past the lines of recklessness.
I’m almost sad when my black boots touch the ground, but I choose happiness instead of sadness today.
“Any chance you’re single?” one of the guys I raced with asks me as I pull off my helmet.
“She’s taken.”
I spin around to see Damon sitting on a chair. He stands and walks up to me, throwing curses at the guy behind me with his eyes. If his words don’t deter the guy, his powerful stance certainly will.
When I look back, I see the guy is already long gone. Once I face Damon again, his anger latches onto his features as his lips press into a grim line.
“Come to save the princess?” I leave my equipment on the counter, annoyed by the receptionist who stares open-mouthed at Damon before we make our way outside toward his Tesla.
“Joey left?”
“I told him to leave so I can spendqualitytime with you on the way back.”
I hop in the car, closing the door louder than I intended to behind me. “What’s the matter? You told me you were okay with track.”
“I prefer being there.”
“You can’t always be there. You might have to travel orwork. You can’t always worry that I’ll get hurt.” I feel bad when the words leave my mouth, for I know that he means them more for Palmer. Besides, I was the same way with Harvey.
“Gemma, we need to talk about last night.”
“No.” I clear my throat. “Not tonight.” His stare is indecisive, but he nods before gazing at the road again, his hand grasping mine.
If only I knew what to do.
A part of me can’t justify betraying Harvey twice, but I can’t even imagine leaving Damon.
I’m at a complete loss, and I feel terribly alone while trying to decide.
When we make it home, I shower quickly to gather my wits while Damon works, then I opt to make us lasagna with Caesar salad.
I’m halfway done cutting the garlic when a surge of nausea spikes again, so I run to the washroom. I throw up nothing but bile, and my stomach settles back to normal after the act.
Once I’m done cleaning up, I wander back to the kitchen, wondering what could’ve made me sick again.
I push the thoughts away when I hear Damon talking on his cell phone in the living room, and I set off to dice onions, mushrooms, and peppers. When I’m done making the lasagna, I place it in the oven, leaving the oven mitts on the counter.
I then grabHarry Potter and the Half-Blood Princeand sit in the leather chair facing the fireplace. I stare at Damon in his element of power, observing him on the couch as he strokes his thumb across his jawline. He’s listening to whomever is on the phone with his laptop on his thighs.
I flip through the pages of my book until the oven timer sounds. Then I head to the kitchen to remove the lasagna. I serve it onto two plates set on the coffee table.
“How was working with Marie again?”
He eyes me with his brows furrowed. “I prefer working with you.”
So, he doesn’t hate her. Good. If I leave my position, I think Marie would be a suitable fit for Damon. She won’t take his attitude personally.
