Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
And yes, memories of their private moments together had a particularly annoying tendency to flash to the forefront of his mind. He found himself thinking about Scott—and what Scott had allowed him to do to him—randomly, at the most inappropriate times, when he was supposed to be focusing on something else entirely. It was irritating. And more than a little concerning.
The most frustrating part was, Cam didn’t really regret anything. He should have regretted it. By every logical standard, he should have looked back on everything that had happened between them as a mistake—a moment of weakness, an indulgence that had complicated his life and might threaten his career if people found out about their… friendship with benefits.
But every time he thought about it, the overwhelming feeling wasn’t regret.
He wanted to do it again. To use him again.
Cam pinched the bridge of his nose. The way he’d been thinking about Scott lately felt distinctly creepy.
“And don’t you forget it,” Scott said with a laugh, snapping him out of his thoughts. His voice softened. “So, do you think I should accept?”
“Don’t you have friends more qualified to advise you?” Cam said wryly. “Friends who actually finished secondary school?”
“I have lots of them,” Scott replied. “But I don’t want their opinions. I want yours. I’m not asking for professional advice.”
Something warm tightened in Cam’s chest. Another feeling followed close behind—something darker and possessive. He bit the inside of his cheek, more than a little creeped out. “Any advice I give you would be unqualified and largely selfish,” he said roughly.
Silence fell over the line.
Cam yanked at his bow tie. The thing was fucking choking him.
“So you admit you’d like me to be around more,” Scott teased. “Aww. I’m touched, babe.”
Cam rubbed the back of his neck. “Just do what you want,” he said gruffly. “Whatever makes you happy.”
There was a pause.
“I will,” Scott said quietly, before adding in a more cheerful tone, “Thanks, babe. Love you.” He blew a kiss and hung up.
Cam remained standing on the balcony for a long time, staring out into the night.
He felt too warm. Wrong-footed.
Obviously those words meant nothing. Scott was the type of person who loved everyone and said it easily to his friends. Scott’s definition of love was loose. Casual. He fell “in love” every other week. Love you from him was probably the equivalent of see you later from anyone else.
It wasn’t worth thinking about.
Chapter 13
Italian Grand Prix
@f1wagsandfamilywatch Scott Palmer arrives at Italian Grand Prix! [picture 1 of 11]
9.1k likes 976 reposts
@richtdream7 Looking insanely hot as usual, but does this guy have no job, seriously? He’s at every grand prix lately! We see him more often than we see some of the WAGs!
@f1sneak Maybe he is a WAG!
@richtdream7 No way. Cam is the straightest guy on the grid.
@huntjameshunt Is he? I think the only driver on the grid that is absolutely, 100% straight is Hunter. Cam might be a 2 on the Kinsey scale.
@richtdream7 Hunter? Have you seen how obsessed he is with Bastien?
@belle69 Nah, surely it doesn’t count. It’s just good, old-fashioned bullying. No homo.
@hunterdefence If you lot are to be believed, every driver on the grid is secretly gay. Give me a break. Cam and Hunter are as straight as it gets.
***
“Ciao, bello,” Scott said with a grin when Cam opened the door.
Can snorted. “Your Italian is horrible,” he said, his arms coming up around Scott and pulling him into a loose hug.
Scott sank into it, relief washing over him at how not weird it felt. He’d been a little afraid that Cam would freak out after Zandvoort, but it didn’t seem to be the case. Thank god.
For a moment, the strength of his own relief took him aback. He usually had an easier attitude toward friendship. He didn’t fret over offending or losing friends—he had a lot of them. But with Cam, it felt different. He was different. Special. His. His friend.
Scott breathed in the familiar scent of Cam’s aftershave before reluctantly pulling back. “How are we feeling this weekend? Car good?”
Cam shrugged, his dark eyes roaming over Scott’s face. “Won’t know until the practice. You settling in well?”
Scott took Cam’s hand and tugged him toward the couch. Making Cam sit down, he snuggled up against him with a sigh of relief. “I’m exhausted,” he mumbled, letting his head fall on Cam’s shoulder. “Opening a new European branch sounded so exciting on paper, but in reality I’m being buried in paperwork.”
Cam slung an arm around his shoulders. “You’re enjoying it.” It was a statement, not a question.
“A bit,” Scott admitted, wondering when Cam had learned to spot the difference between when he was whining for the sake of whining and when he was whining because he was honestly fed up. “It is exhausting, but it’s challenging in a good way too, you know?”