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)
Will’s expression was downright skeptical. “I’ve never seen you this stressed over a friend. You have plenty of other friends. If he starts acting weird, you can always cut him off.”
“Right,” Scott said, frowning and trying to ignore the knot of discomfort in his stomach.
Later that night, he found himself staring at his phone hesitantly.
Finally, fed up with his own indecision, he opened his chat with Cam and typed.
Scott: Hey! How’s summer break treating you?
Cam was online.
Scott held his breath as the other man started typing.
Cam: boring. Itching to get back on track.
Scott exaled, the knot in his stomach loosening a little. Cam’s words sounded fairly normal, right? Not weird at all. Maybe they could just ignore the whole thing.
Scott: Amsterdam next, right?
Cam: Zandvoort
Scott: eh, you got what I meant, so whatever.
Cam started typing. Stopped. Started typing again.
Scott watched it with trepidation.
Cam: Are you coming to the next race?
Chewing on his bottom lip, Scott considered it. The Dutch Grand Prix kind of conflicted with the business meeting his dad wanted him to attend.
But.
If he begged off, would Cam think he was avoiding him? Scott didn’t want things to become weird between them. Well, weirder than what had happened in Hungary.
Scott: I’m kind of busy that weekend, but I guess I could fit it into my schedule.
Cam: I’ll send you a pass.
Scott: OK, and find me a room close to the track. I’m not traveling from Amsterdam every day.
Cam: you’re so high maintenance, Jesus.
Scott: why, thank you! [kissing emoji]
He regretted the emoji the moment he hit send. Banter like this wasn’t unusual for them, but it probably wasn’t very advisable after what had happened.
Cam didn’t reply immediately.
Wincing, Scott stared at the screen, as if he could will Cam into replying.
At long last, the typing dots appeared.
Cam: I just checked. All hotels close to the track are sold out. Zandvoort is tiny. Even I can’t find you a room this late, mate.
Scott frowned. That did sound believable. Or was it just an excuse to keep him far away?
There was only one way to find out.
Scott: no problem! I can share your room again! [winking emoji]
He was starting to have second thoughts the moment he sent it, but it was too late.
This time the pause until Cam’s reply was even longer.
Cam: Sure. I’ll text you my room number once I’m there.
Fuck.
What was he getting himself into?
Chapter 10
Dutch Grand Prix
Room number 796. Scott took a deep breath and rapped on the door with as much confidence as he could muster.
He could act totally cool and unbothered. People did stupid things when they were drunk all the time. Friends drunkenly having sex was nothing. It had literally happened to Scott during his college days a few times, and they’d just laughed about it afterward. This was the exact same thing—
The door opened.
“Hey!” Scott said, flashing a wide smile as he met Cam’s inscrutable dark eyes. He had the uncomfortable feeling his grin was bordering on maniacal, but he couldn’t seem to do anything about it.
“Hey,” Cam said, stepping aside to let him in. He’d stepped too far away. As if he didn’t want any parts of their bodies to touch as Scott passed.
Scott narrowed his eyes. He should probably let it be. But it was one thing when Scott was the one being touch-averse. It was another when Cam acted as if he’d gotten the plague. That wouldn’t do.
Before Scott could think twice, he stepped forward and, leaning in, kissed the other man on his stubbled cheek.
Cam froze for like half a second—practically an eternity for a Formula One driver—before clapping Scott on the shoulder and pulling away. He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze sliding somewhere over Scott’s ear instead of his eyes. “Did you have a good flight?”
Apparently they were doing small talk now.
Smiling crookedly, Scott stepped farther into the room, hoping he looked like everything was perfectly normal and not at all weird. “Well, you know. Long. Boring. The usual.”
He dropped onto the couch with a casual confidence that took an alarming amount of concentration to maintain. Cam stayed by the door for a moment, his body language stiff, before walking closer.
Silence fell over the room. A very loud, awkward silence.
Right. So apparently they were going with the pretend-nothing-happened strategy. Scott could do that. Scott was great at pretending nothing happened.
He clasped his hands together behind his head and leaned back. “So. What’s up?”
Cam stared at him.
Scott stared back, smiling.
And never mind that his brain was running through that night in a high-definition replay he had absolutely not asked for. The club. The drinks. Too many drinks. Cam’s hand on his waist. Cam laughing into his shoulder. Cam’s thumb in his mouth. Cam’s cock heavy on his tongue—
“Are we really going to pretend it didn’t happen?” Scott blurted out. “That’s lame.”