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How dare she, I think, protectiveness surging inside me. How can she leverage her son like this?

I keep my eyes on the track, alternately watching Mason and Caleb, and think about Mason and his mum. I’m pissed off. But to be fair, he only told her she couldn’t mention me. Mason didn’t move to protect himself from being used.

He only cared about keeping me out of her content.

My anger dissolves as I think about how significant that is. Mason doesn’t care about this. He lets his mum trade on his name, and it rolls off him.

But when it came to me? For the first time in his life, he set a boundary with her. One he would not let her cross. All because he wants to protect me.

I’m falling in love with him.

And his actions tell me he’s falling in love with me, too.

* * *

Mason pulls off a miracle in Baku.

He works his way not only back into the top ten, but places eighth. He finished in the points, and I don’t even know how he did it.

He got nothing but respect from the TV analysts for fighting his way all the way back to earning points.

And now I’m waiting for him to come back to his tiny dressing room in the garage so I can tell him how proud I am of him.

I sit on the edge of the little bed. I know he’ll be up here soon. He has to park the car and get weighed before he can come up here.

Sarah is going to meet up with us after he finishes his media duties to get a few minutes with him before she heads to the airport.

I check my phone again. I’ve already messaged Caleb to congratulate him on his P4 finish and to tell him I’ll see him soon. We’re all flying back on the jet to Monaco.

I hear footsteps and voices in the hallway. One belongs to Kayla, who is Mason’s handler for media duties, and then I hear the familiar rumble of Mason’s voice, which causes my pulse to quicken.

I rise, and as soon as Mason opens the door, his eyes lock with mine. He looks tired. Just physically and emotionally drained from the race he had to pull out of the bin today. He shuts the door behind him, and I speak before he can say a word.

“Babe, I’m so damn proud of you,” I say.

He opens his arms to me. I go to him, melting into his racing suit, and feel one hand around my back whilst the other sinks into my hair. His lips brush against the top of my head.

“This is all I want right now,” he says, his voice low. “You feel so good.”

“You ran an incredible race today,” I reassure him. “I can’t believe you got up to eighth! I know you aren’t giving yourself credit for that, but you should. You had a brilliant race today, Mason.”

“I did what I could. There was no way I was going to finish at the back of the grid,” he says, kissing the top of my head again. He’s silent for a moment before he asks, “Are they trying to blame me for the start? Has Alex tried to throw me under the bus for causing that anti-stall?”

I wince. Because that’s exactly what Alex did. “Um…” I move back from him, running my hands up over his racing suit. “Alex suggested we don’t know what caused the anti-stall—if it was mechanical or driver error.”

“It was the car,” Mason says, his jaw firm.

“I believe you,” I say, rubbing one hand across his stubble.

His eyes grow liquid. “I know you do.”

“Mason, I know this is weird, with me being a Collings, and Alex working for Grandfather, but I believe you. You’ve always taken ownership when something goes wrong and it’s your fault. I don’t have any reason to believe today would be any different.”

He brushes his warm lips against my forehead. “I’m so glad I have you. This is what matters. This right here.”

My feelings for Mason just continue to grow. Because I feel the same way that he does.

“I have to get changed,” he says.