Page 13 of Downforce

A slow, crooked smile dances across his lips. He folds his arms and I hate, hate the way my eyes automatically drop to the veins that snake their way up his forearm.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Does his voice have to be the literal sonic embodiment of silk?

He glances over his shoulder before thrusting his thumb toward the building. “No, don’t tell me. Do you live here?”

He sounds surprised.

And I have zero proof or even reason to suspect that he knew I lived here. However, that doesn’t stop me from not buying the innocent act. Not one bit.

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” I demand instead of answering his question.

He pauses to allow a pair of movers carrying a huge cardboard box pass him. Then Max makes a show of directing the men toward the elevator and up to the eleventh floor.

“Now, what was it that you asked me?” He squints in my direction. “Oh, right. Well, it seems that I’m moving in.”

“Why?”

His dark eyebrows flare, forcing my attention even more heavily on those hazel eyes. Unlike my hazel, which are more green with a hint of seafoam, Max’s are closer to golden. I can’t help but notice the light goatee that’s grown around the lower half of his face, outlining, and thus spotlighting his mouth.

The hair that he kept almost shoulder length throughout last season has been cut. The brunet, wavy curls stopping just above his ear. The shortened hair and new goatee, I tell myself, are the reasons why I didn’t immediately recognize him that night of the fundraiser.

“I need a place to live.”

“Go back to your old place,” I reply.

“In Britain?” He gives a pondering look for a beat, then shakes his head. “Doesn’t work when Amato’s headquarters are only thirty minutes from Monte-Carlo.”

Amato is an Italian company, and yes, living here in Monaco makes it easier to get back and forth to their facilities when needed. Which is why Travis, and by extension I, live here.

“Then find a new building.”

“Too late, princess. I fell in love with the view and I’ve already signed on the dotted line.”

“Don’t call me that.” I hate how moody my demand makes me sound, but I don’t like the way his voice turns snide, almost sneering when he calls me that. As if he’s using it to call me out on some holier than thou attitude that I most definitely do not have.

“Well,” he inches away from the building’s entrance, moving closer to me, “it looks like we’re going to be neighbors. How’s that for luck?”

I tut. Luck my ass.

“Just stay out of my way, Max,” I say as I saunter past him. “It’s not like you’ll last long around here, anyway.”

I take a pull of my smoothie in order to suppress the heat and racing thoughts that begin to stir inside of me.

I can’t prove that he’s moved into the same building as me on purpose, and chances are he hasn’t. He is Amato’s new driver and living in Monte-Carlo is advantageous for his career at this point. At least a dozen other drivers live in this small country.

Those reminders firmly in place, I punch the button to take me up to my thirteenth-floor apartment to shower and finish the work tasks I have for the rest of the day.

CHAPTER 5

Max

Don’t turn around and watch her walk away.

Do. Not. Do. It.

The words repeat like a mantra, all the while I hold my breath. It’s not until I count down from one hundred backwards that I finally release a breath and turn toward the entrance.