Page 123 of Downforce

“Why that specific order?” I ask.

“Age. Chloe was the youngest and therefore most vulnerable, so she needed to be checked first. Trist, Trav, and I are triplets, but Trav was born last, me second, and Tristan is technically the oldest.”

I nod. Even though it doesn’t quite make sense, I knew it didn’t have to.

“I would do my check and get some relief for a little while, but then I’d be laying in bed and my mind would start racing again. ‘What if I just thought I felt Chloe breathing? What if that snore Travis let out was his last breath? What if Tristan’s cold turns into a stuffy nose and he doesn’t open his mouth to breathe?’ On and on it went.

“I’d eventually get out of bed eight to ten times a night trying to reassure my addled brain that they were okay.”

“How long did this go on?”

“Years,” she says, wearily. “Honestly, not completely until I went away to college. It slowed down though after my mom caught me a few times when I was a teenager. She thought I was trying to sneak out of the house.”

Annalise laughs.

“I wish it was something trivial like that. I don’t know why, but I knew it would sound crazy to tell her that I was up for hours in the middle of the night making sure my brothers and sister were still breathing.”

She looks up at me.

“It’s ebbed and evolved over the years, but I tend to have perfection OCD and disaster OCD. Like, if I do something wrong it’ll hurt someone I love or care about. Or it’s my fault if something happens to someone I love.”

She pushes out a heavy breath. I can tell she’s preparing to open up about something she’s been holding onto for a while.

“That night, at the hospital …” She stops and looks at me, making sure I’m on the same page.

“What about it?” I wrap my other arm around her and haul her over my chest so that she’s halfway sprawled on top of me, our face only inches apart. I want to kiss away the sheen of water in her eyes, but I want her to keep talking.

“I was late to the race. I’d taken longer than I expected finishing my law school exams and missed my flight. By the time I arrived at the race it was halfway over. But I was there when the crash happened.”

I can’t stop my face from flinching as a rush of shame courses through me. The same shame and embarrassment I feel whenever that accident is brought up. It wasn’t my finest racing moment. Despite the suspension and scrutiny I received after the accident, I’d never allow myself to let go of the shame. I didn’t deserve to be let off the hook.

“I’m sorry⁠—”

“I wasn’t mad at you,” she says, cutting off my apology. “Not really. It was a shitty thing, but deep down I knew you never meant for Travis to get hurt. But I blamed myself. All my brain kept telling me was that if I’d been on time the accident would’ve never happened.”

My expression must give away my thoughts.

“I know it doesn’t make sense. I know that. I knew that then. I’d been in therapy for a couple of years for my OCD by then, but I’d refused medication, thinking I could handle it on my own. Unfortunately, the obsessions that had been whispers turned into full-on screaming voices in my head. I blamed myself, but because of therapy I knew it wasn’t my fault, so I lashed out at the next closest culprit.”

Her eyes meet mine, a new sheen of tears there scraping at my very soul.

“You didn’t deserve everything I said that night. I’m so⁠—”

It’s my turn to cut her off. I refuse to allow her to apologize to me for my fuck up. No, I’d never meant for her brother to get hurt, but it was still my jealousy, my pride and ego that led me to making such a fateful decision during the race.

If I hadn’t been riled up by the sports’ reporter who’d insisted on comparing Travis and me right before the race, I might’ve been calmer. If I hadn’t heard the way the reporter kept bringing up my father’s statistics and mentioning how Travis was on par to match or even one day exceed his stats while I lagged behind, maybe I could’ve reined in my jealousy and temper the moment I spotted Travis’ car passing mine in the last minutes of the race.

But that hadn’t happened.

“I deserved it and more,” I say against her mouth. “Don’t ever apologize to me for that.”

She shakes her head, but I kiss her again, silencing her before rolling onto her back. It takes Herculean effort not to push inside of her immediately. Nevertheless, I manage to peel one hand away from her body to grope for a condom on my nightstand. The moment I’m sheathed, I push inside of her willing body.

This is what heaven feels like, I know it down to the very marrow of my bones. I’ve known Annalise is mine for a while now, maybe even before that deceptive dance the night of the masquerade ball. But now there is no doubt that I’ll do whatever I need to, to keep her beside me, no matter who I have to hurt or make friends with.

The next step is making her see that with me is where she belongs … not for the short-term, but forever.

* * *