I hadn’t asked because I hadn’t wanted to know the answer, but the question was out there now, and there was no taking it back.
“Sloane’s warning about staying away from sports cars.” My next words stuck in my throat before I forced them out. “Was that a general warning, or do you still race?”
I hated doubting him, but I had to know.
Even racing in official competitions like Formula One was dangerous, and those had safety measures in place. I’d seen footage from a few illegal street races. They were the Wild West, and the likelihood of injury or arrest was even higher than in sanctioned racing.
Asher stilled, his throat bobbing with a hard swallow. Tension coated the air like oil spilled over water.
“Not often,” he said. “I haven’t done it in a while.”
“When was the last time you raced?” I didn’t want to turn our first night in Japan into an interrogation, but I’d already opened Pandora’s box.
We might as well see it through to the end.
Shadows flickered in his eyes. “Earlier in the summer. Early July.”
Early July.
Barbs hooked into my throat. That was more recent than I’d anticipated. It was before we officially got together, but it was around the time of our first kiss.
“Does it bother you?” Asher asked quietly. “Me racing.”
“I…” I tried to wrestle my thoughts into some semblance of coherence before I answered.
I knew he loved the thrill, and I didn’t want to take that away from him. But every time he got behind the wheel, he put his career and his life in danger. Could I really sit by and let him take that risk without pointing out the dangers? He’d been lucky so far, but all it took was one stroke of bad luck to end everything.
I knew that better than anyone.
“It worries me,” I finally said. “Regular driving is dangerous enough. Accidents happen every day, but cars are an essential part of modern life. It’s a risk we have to take. Street racing is more than that.” My voice sank into a tremulous whisper. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want what happened to me to happen to you. I don’t want you to lose your dreams or…” Die.
The word wedged in my chest and clung on with bloodied nails, like it was trying to hide from the inevitability of its own passing.
I couldn’t imagine a world where Asher didn’t exist—where I didn’t hear his voice teasing me or see his smile beckoning me from across the room, where his heartbeats didn’t sync with mine when we fell asleep and where I didn’t have a constant safe harbor in the storm.
I couldn’t imagine a me without him, and that terrified me more than anything else.
Tears stung the backs of my eyes.
“Scarlett.” Asher sounded anguished as he pulled me into his chest. “It’s okay. I’m okay. Nothing’s going to happen to me.”
“You don’t know that.” The tears trickled down my cheeks. God, this is humiliating. I was ruining our first night overseas together, but I couldn’t stop. I’d spent years running from my fears, but the prospect of losing him was so overwhelming that I couldn’t outrun it. It swamped me, dragging me under waves of anxiety and horrible, bloody what-ifs.
I raised my head to look at him. “I used to think I was invincible. I was young and healthy and on top of the world. I thought nothing could happen to me, but I was wrong.” Emotion clogged my throat. “The thing is, I couldn’t have prevented my accident. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that’s up to the universe. But street racing…you’re choosing to put yourself in that position.”
Asher’s face crumpled. “Darling…”
“No.” I shook my head and wiped my tears with the back of my hand. “Please let me finish. I know you love racing. I do. I don’t want to discount that, and I don’t want to tell you how to live your life. But I can’t wake up every day wondering if that’s the day your luck runs out, and I’ll get a call saying you’re gone.” My words cracked. “I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t.” His voice sounded thick, or maybe that was the weight in my chest talking. “You won’t because I won’t race anymore. I don’t need it, but I need you.”
Another sob bled out, formed of relief and a dozen other feelings I couldn’t name.
When I was younger, my friends and I tried to guess what our future partners’ professions would be. I didn’t care much at the time, but I was adamant about not dating anyone in emergency services. No firefighters, no police, no one whose job involved them running headfirst into danger for a living.
In theory, a footballer should be safe, but there was nothing safe about my feelings for Asher.
Maybe I was selfish for asking him to give up something he loved. If that was the case, then so be it.
I would rather be selfish with him alive and healthy than selfless with him buried beneath the ground.
Asher tightened his hold on me. “I won’t race anymore,” he repeated. “I promise.”
CHAPTER 36ASHER
I should’ve felt more conflicted after I promised Scarlett I would stop racing. Getting behind the wheel had been my version of therapy for so long, so giving it up should’ve engendered some resistance.
Maybe that’d come the next time I heard about a race or got a message about a new Bugatti from my car guy. In the meantime, I felt…nothing. Nothing except regret and a fierce, yearning desire never to make Scarlett cry again.
I had no idea she felt that way about my racing, but I should’ve known. Her past with cars made our conversation that first night in Tokyo inevitable. On the bright side, it meant everything was uphill from there.
Don’t get me wrong—my schedule for the next three days was brutal. Aoki Watches had me booked back-to-back with promo shoots, press, meetings, and events. Sloane kept me supplied with coffee, but the jet lag and early call times kicked my ass.
Thankfully, everything with Aoki went smoothly. The brand was happy, Sloane was happy, and Leon was happy from his luxury apartment in London, the bastard. My business manager had somehow weaseled his way out of the grueling cross-continent trip.
Work consumed my days, but the nights were mine, and I spent them all with Scarlett.
