Page 153 of Downforce

Travis’ brows pinch.

I’d never told Travis about the obsessive thoughts I had about his racing. I never wanted him to worry or get distracted by what might be happening with me while he was competing. That would’ve only made my obsessions worse.

Out of everyone, it took Travis the longest to understand my obsessions and the compulsive behaviors they triggered. Mostly, because since we were teenagers, he was out of the house, traveling for races and competitions. He never really saw the worst of my illness, not until years later.

But I confess it to him now.

“So you thought my getting hurt was because you were late?”

“Yes. No. Sort of,” I answer, confusing him even more. “It doesn’t make sense. But you know my illness isn’t about logic. Anyway, that night I took it out on Max when he showed up at the hospital. He came to apologize.”

I can acknowledge that now. The guilt and pain were written all over his face, but my anger prevented me from seeing it.

“I told him to never speak to you again.”

Travis moves across the living room, tugging me into a hug. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was angry at him.”

Shaking his head, Travis pulls back. “Not about him. About your obsessions and how my racing scared you. Have you been living with these fears this whole time?”

I shake my head. “It’s better now. I’m better now,” I assure him. “You know that. My obsessions, though still there, are more manageable with my meds, and I see my therapist a couple of times a month. Honestly, don’t worry about me.”

“You’re my sister, my third. You’re one-third of me. Not worrying about you is literally impossible.”

He runs a hand through his hair, a look of guilt spreading across his features.

“I should’ve known better. Alyssia said I have my head stuck too far up my ass. Don’t laugh. It’s not funny.”

I cover my mouth to stifle my laughter. “It is kind of funny.”

Because it’s true. As much as I love Travis, he has always been kind of self-centered, which is a by-product of being such a high-level athlete.

He grumbles. “Yeah, well not so much fun when my wife forces me to sleep in the spare room for a damn week after I fired you.”

My face brightens even more. “She did? I’m going to have to buy her dessert for the next week.” I sigh. “I love my sister-in-law.”

Travis rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I’m sorry for that by the way.”

I slap his arm. “You should be. It was rude as hell.”

He looks at me expectedly.

I push out a frustrated but conceding sigh. “I’m sorry for not telling you about Max sooner. And don’t you dare start on him by saying he should’ve come to you on his own. I convinced him it would be distracting for the both of you in the middle of the season.”

Travis frowns but nods. “So, you’re coming back to work for me, right? It’s been a mess without you. I tried one person and he was terrible. Then—” He stops when I hold up my hand.

“I’m sorry but I’m not coming back to work for you.”

It’s not until I say it out loud that I feel absolutely certain in my decision. Until now, I’d thought about what I wanted to do but kept things open in the off chance that Travis would come to his senses.

Now that he has, I know working as his assistant isn’t where I belong.

“Why not?” His shoulders drop. “Are you holding out for a raise? Fine, ten percent increase in your annual salary and an extra week for vacation.”

I snort. “Trust me, brother, if I were bargaining, what you just laid out wouldn’t touch my demands.”

“You’re playing hardball.”