Page 86 of Fallen Crown

I’m now convinced the tattoo must be about Enzo or her divorce. That’s the only time she’s like this. Why she’d get anything on her body that would make her feel less than forever, I have no idea, but I’ve realized that Tucker’s stubborn streak doesn’t always serve her best interests.

Jag is driving us back to the hotel, and Tucker has been quiet since we left. I glance over at her as the streetlights streak across her face. “Can I see it?” I ask.

She tugs down the neck of her shirt, and a flower or vine of some sort follows the line of her collarbone. It’s tiny and delicate, so it makes more sense that she wouldn’t mind people seeing it, unlike some of my more garish choices. Should have known Tucker would have enough taste and common sense to pick something beautiful.

“What is it, exactly?” I ask.

“Baby’s breath,” she says, and she lets her shirt go, so it slithers over it. “Next week is one year since my accident.”

With everything going on with my dad and then the race, I lost track of the dates. But I remember when I first found out, I realized this race and her last one were almost a year apart. The end of this race and how the race before ended must be triggering some bad memories. Never occurred to me when I asked her to compete, though. I was too deep in my own feelings about my father’s death, needing a purpose, and my growing desire for Tucker. It’s a huge thing for me to have ignored, and I’m surprised when Wren and Riker were warning me off, they didn’t say something. Of course, they’d have risked having to tell me why racing was so potentially devastating for Tucker, and neither of them would have wanted to betray her trust.

We’re driving into the parking lot of the hotel, and I realize I need to say something in response. “I should have been more sensitive when I asked you to come here. To race.”

“I wanted to race, but I was scared,” she says. “I’ve got no regrets, so you shouldn’t either.”

She makes it sound so simple, but her tattoo says otherwise.

When we get out of the car, Jag leads the way to the rooms, giving us some space. I sling my arm around Tucker’s shoulders, and she wraps hers around my middle. At the door to her hotel room, Tucker turns to me.

“Wren is staying with one of the Australian team members tonight,” she says.

“A whole hotel room, all to yourself?” My heart kicks, and I lace my fingers with hers. Sounds like an invitation, but I don’t want to push my luck.

“Stay with me?”

“Fuck yes,” I say, and I pluck the keycard from her fingers, swipe it, and have us in the door before she can take back her request.

She laughs, and I swallow it with my kiss. We’re shedding clothes before the hotel room door has even clicked closed. The scent of peaches is all around me again. Her hands are in my hair, and I’ve got mine cradling her face, trying to figure out how to merge us together. It’s impossible to be close enough to satisfy this feeling inside me.

Never in my life have I experienced this combination of lust and respect and something else I’m still not sure I want to name. The rest of my life could be spent here in this hotel room with her, and I wouldn’t regret a moment of it. So much makes sense that never did before. I get how Nick could pine for Jules for years; how Alex could almost give up becoming king, a title he’d wanted since we were kids; how friendships are ruined or families torn apart; why wars are waged—this feeling is that monumental. Being with her feels as necessary as my next breath.

Maren meets me, kiss for kiss, touch for touch, and I wonder whether she’s as far gone as I am. Is it possible? Coming off a divorce and a disaster of a marriage, would she ever truly give me a shot? Is that what I’m seeking? She’s said she doesn’t want kids anymore, but that tattoo of baby’s breath makes me long to dig for the truth. Her reasoning didn’t ring true then, and it doesn’t now either.

When we come up for air, I trace my fingertip around the edge of the protective tape. The temptation to ask is strong, but I know if I do, I’ll ruin tonight. She’ll tell me when she’s ready, and if I learned anything from getting Posey involved and the fallout in the cabin, giving Maren the space to decide is critical.

“I feel like I’ve hardly seen you the last couple of days,” Maren says, and she’s staring at me with the same reverence I feel.

We’ve spent the whole time beside each other, but I know exactly what she means. With the cameras and other people, I spent a lot of time pretending I didn’t want to be where I am right now.

“When we get back to Bellerive,” I say as I ease her onto the bed, and I trail kisses down her body. “I don’t want this to be over. We’re not over.”

“Brice.”

Her tone suggests she doesn’t think that’s a good idea, but I’ve said my piece. Even if I don’t know what things between us will look like, even if being together is complicated, I can’t let her go. I don’t want to.

“I don’t need an answer,” I say as I slide my fingers along her slick folds, and she rocks her hips against me. “I just needed you to know.”

She wraps her hands around my neck and drags me down for a kiss, and the minute our lips reconnect, there’s no more talking about anything other than our mutual pleasure. We’re gasps and moans and murmured pleas until I’m so deep inside her I don’t know where I end and she begins. The best feeling in the world. As we both race toward the finish line, all I can think about is how I never want this to end.

Tomorrow I’ll tell her about Denmark, and tomorrow I’ll figure out some way to keep us connected beyond this race.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Maren

We’re slow to get moving the next day, and I spend most of the morning basking in Brice’s undivided attention. He even has Jag bring us breakfast so neither of us have to leave the room and risk being caught in yesterday’s clothes.

Last night, Brice said he wanted whatever this is to go beyond the race, and I didn’t know what to say. I’ve spent the last ten days convincing myself that we can never be more than a fling. Even now with the offer of more on the table, I can’t wrap my head around what that would look like or whether it’s a sound decision for me to go for it.