"You sure you can keep up, Klein?" His voice barely reached me over the sound of the crew and the cars, but I could hear the smirk laced in his tone as he hopped into his seat.
I simply raised my middle finger in response and slammed my visor down.
...
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I sit across from Cassie in a little cafe in Italy as she cuts herself a piece of our muffin with the edge of her fork, then stabs it and takes a bite. Her gaze is averted, focused on something on her phone. We arrived in Imola yesterday, already preparing for next weekend's race.
I'm secretly grateful for the lack of eye contact.
After the other day in Miami - after holding her like that - I'm not sure I can look into her eyes without my thoughts travelling back to that moment.
Like they are now.
And God, we slept in the same bed. I'm sure the lack of eye contact is partly from sheer embarrassment from both our parts. Let's just say, the wall we created did not withstand the night.
I'm just going to leave it at that.
I watch as she takes another bite of the muffin. I watch the way her lips close around her fork, the way she draws the fork out from between them and the way her tongue pokes through, collecting the few loose crumbs scattered along her soft lips.
God, what am I doing?
I tear my eyes away from her mouth to find her eyes already on mine. She's stopped chewing, fork halfway between her mouth and her plate as she stares at me with confusion knotted in her brows.
"What?" She asks, "Is there something on my face?"
I clear my throat and grab my coffee, shaking my head before taking a sip. I don't look up, feeling Cassie's stare bore into me.
I hear what almost sounds like a scoff before feeling a impossible wave of relief as I sense her focus shift away from me.
What's happening to me?
I've never felt this way before. I'm on edge whenever she's around - my heartbeat fastens when she steps closer, I can't even look her in the eyes without my thoughts floating back to a dangerous place.
It has to be nothing. I can't let it be anything more than that - for the sake of both of our careers. We are teammates, and we are competitors. Nothing else.
"Should we get going?"
I'm torn from my thoughts by Cassie's question. In the time I've spent dwelling, we've both finished our coffees and the muffin has been reduced to crumbs on a plate. Cassie already has her bag slung on her shoulder as she waits for me to respond.
"Yeah, let's go," I say, stuffing my phone in my pocket as I stand. Our chairs scrape along the floor as we both move to leave the cafe. We both smile and thank the waitress as we walk past the counter and make our way toward the door. I grab the handle and hold it open for her as she ducks under my arm. I close the door behind me softly.
