Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
We cross the room, weaving between clusters of guests in tailored suits and evening gowns.
“You clean up nicely,” Bex says to Nash, accepting a kiss on the cheek before turning to me. “And you—well, you’re going to make half the sponsors fall in love tonight.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” I reply, returning her quick hug. Posey greets me with a warm smile, and the four of us slip into small talk about the upcoming race, the food (excellent, according to Bex), and how Posey nearly didn’t make it after a flight delay.
I’m mid-laugh at one of Nash’s comments when movement at the entrance catches my eye. Ronan walks in, pausing to scan the room with that cool detachment he wears like armor. My pulse stutters, and for a moment, I forget what Bex asked me. Ronan moves to the bar where Carlos stands and the two talk as if they were friends.
I can’t help but smile because I’m not sure that would be happening if it weren’t for our dinner last night. But my fond memory and smile are both scrubbed away when I see the same woman Ronan brought to the gala last weekend. She’s on Ryan Hughes’s arm—a driver for Coral Reef Racing—in a dress that shimmers with a million crystals, her hair sleek and perfect. She laughs at something Ryan says, but her eyes scan the room. She could be looking for a variety of things, but when they land on Ronan and stay pinned there, I know she has a purpose. I narrow my eyes, very proprietary over the man she’s staring at.
“What are you looking at?” Posey asks as she nudges me with her shoulder.
I tilt my head toward Amelia. “That’s the woman Ronan brought to the gala last weekend. And tonight, she’s here with another driver.”
Posey follows my gaze, her brows lifting in mild recognition and then she chuckles. “Ah. In the sports romance fiction world, what we call a track bunny.”
“A what?”
“A track bunny,” she repeats, leaning closer to keep the conversation between us. “You know… someone who hops from one driver to another. They’re not in it for the long haul, just the thrill of being in the orbit of whoever’s hot on the grid that week. Same thing exists in other sports—different nickname, same playbook. Romance authors love to put that in their books.”
I glance back toward Amelia, who is now sipping champagne at the bar. “So basically… she collects drivers.”
Posey’s Bex’s mouth curves in a knowing smile. “And judging by the way she’s looking at Ronan right now, he’s still an acquisition target.”
I clench my jaw and mutter, “She’s going to be disappointed.”
“What was that?” Posey asks.
I watch with the eyes of a hawk as Amelia peels away from Ryan and makes a beeline toward Ronan.
“Nothing,” I say with a quick smile to Posey, but my insides churn as Amelia reaches Ronan. I see her speak, and he listens and before motioning for her to precede him as they walk away from the bar, leaving Carlos behind.
Oh, hell no.
“Excuse me a minute,” I say to Posey. “I see someone I need to talk to.”
“Okay,” she chirps and turns to join the conversation with Bex and Nash.
I wind through the crowd, not making eye contact so no one can stop me with small talk. My focus is locked on them—Amelia steering Ronan toward a quiet corner partially shielded by a tall potted palm. She’s leaning in, one manicured hand resting on his forearm.
I don’t even think. I close the gap, step right into their space, and give her my brightest, fakest smile. “Hi. Just so we’re clear, he’s off the market. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get your hand off him.”
Ronan makes a choking sound, but I don’t dare look at him. I’m satisfied when her hand falls away, but she’s not completely cowed.
Amelia straightens, blinking as if I just slapped her. “And you are?” she asks, all frosty disdain. “Because last I checked, you weren’t at the gala with him.”
Before I reply, Ronan cuts in, his tone calm but final. “She was asking me out,” he says, looking directly at me, “and I was telling her I’m seeing someone exclusively. That someone being you.”
For a second, I forget how to breathe. My pulse spikes with pure, stupid joy that he is outing us as a couple. I turn back to Amelia, all sugary steel. “Which means you need to leave… now.”
Her lips press into a thin line before she spins and stalks off, sparkly dress swaying like she’s on a runway.
I turn back to Ronan, ready to gloat, but he’s already watching me with a faintly amused expression. In one smooth move, he steps closer, herding me back until my spine brushes the wall. The press of the crowd keeps us partially hidden, but he doesn’t seem to care if anyone notices.