Page 113 of Over the Limit

Where I have to plaster on a smile and listen to her worry about which millionaire will be the best for her daughter.

Where I have to pretend that an heiress’s ego and being right is so much more important than the chaos going on in my personal life.

Where I have to pretend that I didn’t crush Rossi today.

And where I have to pretend that both of the men I love—one romantically and one platonically—don’t feel like they’re about to do battle tomorrow . . . with me as the source of their distraction.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Lachlan

“Five laps to go, Lachlan. Five laps,” Henry says in my ear.

“Position?”

“Currently P3. Good job. Stay strong.”

“And Rossi?”

“P4. Right behind by five tenths of a second.”

Hold on, baby. Hold on.

I take the turns. The straights. Every single kilometer I drive with a precision like I’ve never had before.

Four laps to go.

I’m looking ahead at Bustos’s taillights. At staying close enough but not pushing the engine so hard it blows. And that’s where my concentration is. On Bustos. On my car.

So I’m startled when I look in my mirror and see Rossi there. Like right fucking there.

“Henry?” I ask. “Are we free fighting or are we . . .” I need to know if Rossi is really racing me—and if that’s the case then why the fuck didn’t my team tell me?—or if he’s supposed to protect me from the fifth-place driver.

“We’re having radio issues. Rossi’s isn’t working.”

I don’t buy that for a fucking second.

Not with how he was today with me in the pre-race activities. Not with how he won’t even talk to me. Not with him just being Rossi.

His radio isn’t working because he doesn’t want to be told to stand down. Because he wants to prove that he’s better than me.

Well, fuck him. I don’t race at all costs, and it seems he wants to.

Team.

Teammate.

Crew.

“So that means we’re racing,” I say more to myself than to Henry.

I welcome the fucking challenge.

I pick up my pace, hurtling down the straight at the best speed I’ve clocked all day. He edges up beside me and I fight him off. We slow in the corner and I keep the advantage.

But our cars are about even in performance today. Mine has the edge but he has the recklessness. There’s no telling how this will end up.

Bring. It. On.