Page 100 of Handle Me

Her words hit me like a punch in the gut. She was right. I’d waited my whole life to be told I was good enough—good enough to be a driver, good enough to have a family, good enough to be loved.

Two steps closed the distance between us. We crashed together, my arms drawing her roughly to me, our mouths colliding with an urgency that overtook my entire body. I poured everything into that kiss. I left nothing behind. She deserved that much. She deserved all of me, broken as I might be.

Lola gasped against my mouth. She grabbed my T-shirt, pulling me even closer. My hands cradled her head, deepening the kiss until I no longer knew where she ended and I began. I’d never felt like this before. Every touch, every moan, felt like a release. I finally knew why I’d fought so hard against my feelings for her.

Because loving her meant accepting the man she saw instead of the man I feared I was. I’d lived with that fear so long I’d let it control me. I’d nearly let it win. But it wasn’t real.

This was real. She was real. We were real.

We broke apart and I pressed my forehead to hers, our skin damp with sweat. “I love you, Charlotte Bishop.”

She laughed softly. “How formal of you.”

“I felt the occasion called for it.” I couldn’t help but smile. Even if she walked away, I wouldn’t waste another moment of happiness with her.

“What occasion is that?” she murmured.

“The first moment of the rest of my life.”

Lola pulled back far enough to find my eyes and said the only words I needed to hear, “I love you, Anderson Stone.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

LOLA

“Stop looking at me like that,” I said, checking my blind spot one more time before I changed lanes. The McLaren’s engine roared as I sped up. We were running late. Probably because we’d made the poor decision to shower together, which had resulted in getting dirty rather than clean.

Not that I regretted a single second.

Anders shifted in the passenger seat but didn’t let go of my hand. “Like what, boss?”

“Like I’m going to kill you.” She flashed me a smirk, her red lips drawing my attention away from the road. “I’m doing just fine.”

“You are, but—stop!”

I slammed on the brakes in time to avoid hitting a car coming from the opposite direction. “That wasn’t my fault!”

“I didn’t say it was.” He raised my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “It was your right of way, but, uh, you were going a little fast.”

“Fast?” I snorted and shot him a look before returning my eyes to the road. My hands gripped the steering wheel more tightly, my whole body wound up from the near-miss. “You are one to talk, racecar driver.”

“We’ll see about that,” he said grimly, his face darkening.

We’d been avoiding the subject of racing all morning, opting to stay in bed and celebrate our reunion until the last possible moment.

My heart sank as I realized that the moment was over. We were only a few minutes from the track and both of us were getting tenser with each passing second. I forced a smile and said, “I have faith.”

“Sure.” Anders sounded unconvinced.

Neither of us said anything the rest of the drive. He didn’t even comment on my questionable driving. But a cloud had descended over our happiness, and it threatened storms. I couldn’t blame him for being preoccupied. It had been easy to distract ourselves last night. Now we had to face those storms.

“We’re here,” I announced, mustering as much cheeriness as I could when we pulled into the track’s car park.

He didn’t let go of my hand.

My fingers twitched, wanting to stay in his grasp and wishing we could run back to bed together. But that moment had passed, and reality was calling.

As we got out of the car, Anders pulled me close and whispered in my ear, “What if I fuck this up?”