Goddammit. “Don’t say you love me.”
“But I do.” Her eyes are shining with tears, and I want to die.
I hold onto her small shoulders with a loose grip. “I love you too, Bree . . . Just . . .”
“No.” She wipes at a tear, and I die a little more. “Don’t tell me it’s not like that. Or that you love me like a friend or a sister.”
But I do.
“I’m sorry.” I wipe another tear away with my thumb. “I’m so sorry.”
“Happy birthday,” she barely whispers before she pulls away and goes back inside, away from me.
Yeah. Happy fucking birthday to me.
Finish reading here . . . https://amzn.to/3JgjaLA
THE PRETTY BOY VS. THE BAD BOY
Would you rather have some sexy rivals to lovers? Check out The Pretty Boy vs The Bad Boy!
PROLOGUE
SEBASTIAN
“Are you kidding me?” I climb out of my car, anger flooding through me as I try like hell to calm myself. He knows that was dangerous.
Axel Lennon may be a rookie, just like me, but he knows the track. He knows he can’t cut off a fellow driver at the last minute like that. He spun me into a wall and messed up my car.
Though, it could have been so much worse.
And now he’s being congratulated at Victory Lane as if he’s some sort of hero. I begin to make my way over to him, but I’m stopped immediately by my agent. “Sebastian, remember what we talked about?”
I narrow my eyes at him. Yeah, I do. I signed with Kevin when I was brand new to NASCAR racing and thrilled just to be signed by anyone. But now, I’m regretting it. He created this whole image for me.
But it’s not me.
“Yes. He could have killed me.” Shouldn’t he be worried about that?
“Axel knows exactly what he’s doing. If you go over there spitting fire, you’ll destroy everything we’ve created.”
He. He created. I had nothing to do with it.
All I want is to race.
I look over in Axel’s direction, his cocky grin and that dark hair matted with sweat, which he rakes his fingers through. He’s conducting an interview, but the motherfucker has the nerve to shoot me a wink. My feet are moving before I can even think.
But Kevin, despite being portly, catches up quickly and intercepts me. “No.”
I glare at him. “No?”
“You heard me. No.”
I point at Axel, gesturing wildly. “That motherfucker is proud of himself for nearly killing me.”
My entire body thrums with angry adrenaline, but Kevin stands firm, his body blocking mine. “Language,” he scolds. “Anyone recording you right now could read your lips. You’re the good one, remember? The angel to his devil.”
I glare over at said devil, who’s watching me with that cocky, arrogant air surrounding him. He’s not worried I’ll punch him right in his face—just like he has coming.
He knows it. I know it. But he’s also confident my agent will wrangle me because that’s what I’ve let him do for the past year.
“This is bullshit,” I spit out.
“Be that as it may—and watch your damn mouth—here’s what you’re going to do.” Kevin leans in close, his coffee breath wafting into my nostrils. “You’re going to go over there, head held high, and shake his hand. Tell him that was a good race.”
My jaw nearly drops as I look into my agent’s eyes and listen to what he’s suggesting. But then it clenches tight when I realize he’s not joking. That’s actually what he expects me to do.
God, I wish he was kidding.
“I’m not congratulating him on playing dirty.”
Kevin glances over his shoulder at Axel, then back at me. “He’s playing his role. He plays dirty, and they’re eating it up. Now is the time for you to go over there and play yours.”
“I just want to race.” My jaw hurts from the way it’s clenched so damn tight as I grit my teeth.
“And you can. But as I’ve explained to you repeatedly, there’s still a role you have to play. You’re in the entertainment business. Just like an actor. Just like a social media influencer. It doesn’t matter. You have to entertain the masses, and trust me on this, the more you play into this good-guy role, the more money you’ll make. And the more you can secure for your retirement.”
That hits me directly in the chest, just like I’m sure he intended.
Racing doesn’t expect you to retire as young as some other sports, but you can’t keep it up forever. I need to plan for the future now. Set up my security.
And if that means playing a role now so I’m more memorable, then that’s what I need to do.
“Fine.” I finally get my mouth to say the word, but Kevin already knew it was coming. He straightens and moves to my side to escort me toward my fate.
I try my best to calm my heart rate as I make my way over to Victory Lane, where Axel Lennon stands like a king.
My hands clench into fists at my side as his dark eyes run over my firesuit all the way up to my face, studying me. Waiting to see if I’ll finally hit him or if I’ll let Kevin keep that hold on my balls like he’s had for a year.
When I reach my hand out to shake his, a wicked smile slides over his features, and his devilish eyes meet mine. “Ah, Sebastian. So good of you to join us.”
Some of the people around us snicker, but I just breathe deeply, steeling myself to do what I’m told. “Axel, good race.”
My hand is still outstretched in his direction as he lifts his and firmly grabs hold. “So close, Sebastian. You’re getting a little better at this.”
More snickers.
Eating up his cool demeanor like they always do.
The camera loves him.
The bastard.
“Yes, well, that was a little risky at the end.” I can’t help myself.
He just smirks at me, squeezing my hand a little tighter. “Only if you don’t know what you’re doing.” The bastard releases my hand with an arrogant wink, and again my fists want to swing, but I keep them at my sides.
“How about a picture of you two?” a reporter asks, and our attention shifts in their direction.
Axel—the cocky shithead—wraps an arm around my shoulder before I can shove him away and pulls me tightly to his side, flashing a huge, white smile at the camera. “Of course.”
My entire body tenses at the sensation of his pressed against me, but fury rages through my blood. I force a smile, and there are a few flashes of the camera.
When they’re done, I start to pull away, but Axel only pulls me in closer, his breath hitting my ear as his voice comes out with expert smoothness, “Good boy.”
I turn my head quickly, glaring in his direction, but I don’t say anything. And I still don’t hit him.
He just winks again and then releases me so I can finally get away. My feet are fast on the asphalt, my rage threatening to explode, but thankfully Kevin doesn’t follow me.
I don’t think I could take talking to him right now.