Page 92 of Dream Chaser

Oh God.

I got out of the water and padded to the lounger, my wet feet slapping on the tiles. Alejandro stopped beside me and opened my fluffy robe for me. I slid my arms into the sleeves, stealing a glance at him.

A corner of his mouth tipped up as if silently calling me out on the equipment lie. Like his remark about finances was any better.

I waved goodbye to the amused Asher and Kaia. Alejandro and I left the pool area together.

In the hallway, Alejandro chuckled. “You’re a bad liar. You check all the equipment at the track.”

I shrugged, shivering now that the water’s warmth was gone. “I’m sure Asher’s finances don’t need you tonight, either.”

He tucked a strand of my wet hair behind my ear. “You make it hard to think of a lie on the spot.”

I swallowed thickly. “Are you trying to say it’s my fault?”

He shook his head, thumb hovering over the elevator’s button. “Mine for being so affected by everything you do.”

My stomach clenched. Warmth traveled through me in a wave.

The heavy door slid open. I stepped inside, heart thudding. “Don’t follow me, boss,” I whispered.

He arched a manicured brow.

“Small spaces are dangerous,” I said, stepping back until my back pressed against the mirror. “You might want to kiss me.”

The green in Alejandro’s eyes darkened.

“And I’d let you,” I added as the door slid shut.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Nova

November

By Sunday—race day—Friday’s pool encounter with Alejandro seemed like a distant dream. Saturday had been grueling for both of us—meetings with sponsors, filming, and scheduling content for me. No time to talk, let alone spend time together.

I gripped the camera tightly, watching the race from the stands with Alejandro beside me. Asher and Roy had been leading since the first lap. Now and then, oohs and ahhs mixed with insults traveled in a wave over the crowd of thousands of spectators. My body buzzed with nerves. Before, the World Champion title had been a dream. Now it was a possibility.

Two laps to go, Asher slipped ahead of Roy. Alejandro glanced my way, his hands curled into fists, worry lines deepening around his eyes. I gave him a reassuring smile, and his expression relaxed. His eyes lingered on me for a beat, then he refocused on the race.

I snapped a few shots of the track where the engines revved as the bikes flashed past in a blur of color, my fingers clumsy on the shutter. A collective groan rippled through the stands as the gap between Asher and Roy shrank.

“Vamos, mi niño,” Alejandro muttered, bringing a fist to his mouth. Worry settled in my stomach—finishing second after leading so many laps would be heartbreaking.

Final lap. The noise peaked as the bikes passed our section of the stands. I lowered my camera, heart thudding in my throat. When the bikes got too far, my eyes darted to the big screen.

Roy’s wheel nearly grazed Asher’s as they rounded a corner, but Asher accelerated, pulling farther ahead.

Relief doused me. Still leading.

Asher exited the final turn. Silence fell over the spectators. Alejandro pressed a hand to his mouth, mumbling a string of words I couldn’t make out.

Asher crossed the line. The stands exploded with the sound of celebration. Alejandro turned to me, his eyes glistening. I was sure mine did too. He pulled me into his arms. Buried his hand in my hair, holding me tightly.

“He did it,” he whispered in my ear.

Around us, people jumped, shouted, and hugged. On the screen, Asher sat up on the bike, his fist pointing to the sky.