Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Posey’s expression softens slightly, but there’s still a hint of wariness in her eyes. “And you think pretending I’m your girlfriend is the solution?”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “No, but it was the easiest way to get them to back off. Besides… you don’t act like that around me, which makes you… different.”
Her eyes flare with surprise, as if that’s the highest compliment she’s ever been given and if that’s the case, it makes me sad. But almost as quick as the shock registered, she waves it off with a nervous laugh. “Better be careful, Lex. You might fall in love with me.”
It’s a ridiculous statement meant in jest, but there’s a flicker of something more intriguing underneath. “I don’t know about that.” I lift my arms, completely out of my depth. “I’m not really sure what that means.”
Posey shrugs. “Not sure I do either. I write fiction after all.”
She snickers and I can’t help but laugh. A partying bad boy race car driver and a romance author who’s not sure what love is? What an oddball pair we’d make.
♦
The Airbnb is a charming little house near Goldsworth Park Lake, with a path that leads down to the water. The house is cozy, with warm wooden floors, soft rugs and tasteful décor that makes it feel like a home rather than a rental. The living room is furnished with a comfortable sofa and armchairs, a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, and a large window that looks out onto the garden.
Posey and I move through the house, choosing our bedrooms—hers at the back with a view of the lake, mine at the front with a view of the street. We unpack the groceries in the kitchen, a small but well-equipped space with gleaming countertops and stainless steel appliances. There’s an easy rhythm to our movements, like we’ve done this a hundred times before, even though it’s only our first day living together.
After everything is put away, we decide to walk down to the lake. It’s cold outside, not untypical of late February. The sky is gray with the hint of rain in the air, but Posey is bundled in her green parka and determined to trudge a muddy path to the water.
All the trees are barren of their leaves except for the occasional holly bushes along the way. I find it dreary, but Posey points out a patch of snowdrops—whatever those are—pushing up through the cold earth. It seems to delight her and she turns to me with twinkling eyes. “Nothing more exciting than the first signs of spring.”
A gnarled tree sits near the shore with a wooden bench built around the entire base. No one else is out here because… well, it’s cold. We sit on the side facing the water, a tiny current rustling over the top from a chilled breeze. It’s the sort of environment a girl may snuggle into a guy, but Posey keeps a few inches between us, blowing into her hands to warm them up. I itch to take them in my own but ignore the impulses. They’re completely antithetical to the type of man I am, and I can only chalk it up to the general pleasure of being around someone who fascinates me so much.
“This is beautiful,” Posey says softly, her voice filled with awe.
I nod, taking in the scenery. “Yeah, it is. A nice change of pace from London, but not sure I’d like to live here all the time. It’s a little too quiet for me.”
She gives me a side-eyed grin. “Of course it’s too quiet for you, party boy.” A few moments of silence pass but then she goes back into inquisition mode. “What drives race car drivers in general? I mean, why do you do what you do? Why racing? If I’m going to write an authentic hero, I need to know your motivations.”
I take a deep breath, considering her question. “I guess it’s the thrill of it,” I begin slowly. “The speed, the adrenaline… but it’s more than that. It’s the competition, the strategy, the way every decision can make or break a race. I love the challenge, the constant push to be better, faster. And then there’s the dream.”
“The dream?” she prompts, leaning in slightly with wide eyes.
“To win the Driver’s Championship,” I say, my voice filled with a quiet intensity. “The last three years, I’ve been in the top five, but I’ve never won it. That’s the goal, the ultimate achievement. It’s what I’ve been working toward my entire career.”
Posey nods, her eyes reflecting my determination. “And you think this year could be the year?”
“I hope so,” I admit. “But it means focusing more, maybe quelling my partying ways. It’s hard to balance everything, but I think… I think it might be time to take things more seriously.”