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)
@SkySportsF1 Brazilian Grand Prix: Cameron Richter and Hunter Elcman collide on Lap 3 and nearly come to blows once they get out of the cars!
19.2k likes 897 reposts
@richter4ever Holy shit, what’s happening? I’ve never seen Cam lose his temper like this! It’s on brand for Hunter, but Cam is normally so composed under the pressure!
@CRfan89 I don’t know, but I’m starting to get worried. He’s been looking stressed and moody lately, but I didn’t expect him to lose it like this! He nearly punched Hunter on live TV!
Biting his bottom lip, Scott scrolled through the online discussions. He’d stopped following F1 accounts a month ago, but Cam-related posts still flooded his timeline, as if the all-powerful algorithm knew he was full of shit.
The urge to call Cam and ask him whether he was okay was nearly irresistible. A month ago, he wouldn’t have even stopped to think about it. Hell, a month ago he would have been there on track, taking Cam into his arms and letting him vent his frustrations after a hard race.
But these days their relationship was barely there.
And whose fault is that? said a snide voice at the back of his head.
Scott pursed his lips tightly. Cam had tried to make a long-distance friendship work at first, texting him randomly as usual, but the messages had petered off as Scott’s replies came slower and slower until Scott started leaving him on read most of the time.
Scott knew Cam deserved better than that—the situation wasn’t really his fault—but he just couldn’t bear to have a pale imitation of their former relationship, couldn’t bear to pretend that he was content with texts and rare phone calls, content with being discarded to the outer edges of Cam’s life just because he was inconvenient. A clean break would be smarter. So Scott had done it, ignoring the way his stomach had knotted up every time he ignored Cam’s attempts to keep their friendship alive.
God, he missed the constant texts. The phone calls. The way Cam sounded vaguely exasperated whenever Scott called him several times a day and yet somehow always picked up. He missed sending him stupid memes. Missed hearing his dry laugh. Missed being part of his life.
And now he didn’t know whether he should reach out. Doing so would undo all the effort he’d made to distance himself from Cam. But...
Scott’s fingers touched the picture of Cam’s face during his altercation with Hunter: the pure rage on his face was impossible to miss. It didn’t seem like his Cam at all. Cam could be intense and snappish and bossy, but he wasn’t a hothead like Hunter Elcman. He didn’t blow up, no matter how much people angered him. Cam’s self-control was one of the most attractive things about him. He always kept his cool under pressure. This wasn’t him.
Scott chewed on his lip, tracing the lines of Cam’s tense face with his fingertip. Everything in him wanted to call him, to make sure he was okay, to hear the sound of his low voice, to wrap his arms around him and calm him down.
Christ.
He’d been waiting for the intensity of his feelings to fade with distance and time—for once Scott’s fickleness should’ve helped him with that—except it wasn’t working. The longer he went without seeing Cam, the shittier he felt. His mood had absolutely plummeted, he had zero desire to go out with his friends. He felt… crushed. Everything seemed so pointless.
Scott kept telling himself he’d simply grown accustomed to the excitement and chaos of Formula One race weekends, but deep down he knew it was bullshit. His life had never lacked excitement. He was outgoing, surrounded by dozens of friends and men vying for his time and attention, and he had a demanding job he genuinely enjoyed. His days were full in every sense of the word.
Then why did he feel so empty?
Pursing his lips, Scott set his phone down and went back to work.
He was Scott Palmer, the fickle guy who was incapable of any lasting feelings—just ask anyone who knew him.
This shit would pass.
It had to.
***
“All right, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
Scott lifted his gaze from the document in front of him and looked at Will blankly. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m fine.”
Will crossed his arms over his chest and gave him a flat look. “I’m talking about the fact that you’ve turned into a workaholic. And the fact that you’ve been in New York for ages instead of going back to Europe.”
“I can do most of the work remotely,” Scott said, returning his gaze to the document. The numbers blurred in front of him, but he fixed his gaze on them stubbornly.
“Your buddies have been texting me asking if there was something going on. You stopped going out.”
Scott shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it.”