Page 83 of Dream Chaser

“Yeah.” Asher slid his helmet on. “I told Ale that Pablo should have a look at your back. I work with him before every race, and he was a great help when I did rehab after my accident. His clinic is one of the best.”

“Thank you so much, but I work tomorrow.”

Asher fastened the helmet’s straps. “Ale said he doesn’t need you at the office in the morning, so no, you don’t.”

I swallowed, my throat tight. “So… Alejandro talked to you about me?”

Asher frowned. “He told me about the ER and your back too.”

I pocketed the card, sighing. Just an employee, indeed.

He tipped his chin up. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” I shook my head. “It’s just odd he cares.” Shit. Did I say too much?

I glanced away, then pointed to the tarmac stretching ahead. “I think a few candid shots will be enough. Just stand there like you’re thinking about something before the race. Do you have a pre-race ritual?”

He shrugged. “Not really, but I do walk around a bit to get a feel for the place. Helps me focus on what’s ahead.”

“Just do that, then.”

“Okay.” He chuckled. “I’ll pretend I haven’t raced here at least a hundred times.”

“So many?” I focused my phone’s camera on his face.

A muffled laugh came from beneath Asher’s helmet. “Definitely more. Training laps count.”

I snapped a series of pictures from different angles—enough material to comply with the sponsor’s requirements.

Asher and I returned to the garage.

He took off his helmet while I gathered the equipment. “About what you mentioned before,” he said, “Ale’s like that with everyone he cares about.”

I lifted my eyes to his.

“Sit, Nova,” Asher said, lowering himself onto a chair by the wall. “You’re not going to grow any taller. That’s what we say in Spain when someone’s standing while the rest sit,” he clarified with a smile.

“Sure.” I took a seat beside him.

“Ale stayed with me at the hospital after I highsided.” He fiddled with his gloves. “Offered me his place to stay when I didn’t have a team.”

“Before the life-changing shift in your career.” Or so the sports news websites had called it.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah. The shift that happened thanks to him. My point is, I could name a hundred occasions in which Ale saved my ass, and I didn’t even ask him most times. He just wanted to help and be there for me. Don’t get me wrong; he’s one of my best friends, and I’d do the same for him, but he’s always gone the extra mile for those he cares about.”

If Asher was right, nothing of what Alejandro had done for me was unusual. Still, doubt lingered. Did Asher even know about us sleeping in the same bed? He likely didn’t, and I wouldn’t be the one to tell him.

“But,” he went on, “it’s also true that he doesn’t care about everyone.”

Translation: Alejandro cared about me. And I still didn’t know where that left us.

“Thanks for the appointment with your doctor,” I said, standing. “I really need someone to look at my back before Valencia.”

He assented with his chin. “You’re welcome, and you do. It’s going to be a busy week for all of us.” Then he ran a hand through his dark hair, sighing. “He’s a great guy, Nova. You should let him care.”

I already had. And I cared about Alejandro too—more than what was safe for my heart.

***