Redeemed (Dirty Air 4)

I wake up to a heavy weight against my chest. What’s that?

I open my eyes, blinking away the blurriness to find a mass of black hair against my chest.

Right. Chloe. Shared bed. A failed pillow barrier.

When Chloe called herself a cuddler, she was not kidding. She molds herself to the left side of my body. One of her legs is thrown over my lower half, uncomfortably pressing against my growing erection. Her hand is splayed on top of my chest and her hair is a mass of tangles trailing down her back, tickling my skin.

She smells like daisies and sunshine, and I’m growing addicted to the scent.

I wish I didn’t have to leave, but I can’t have her seeing me without my prosthetic. I’m just not ready for that yet. For a few minutes, I enjoy her presence. Intimacy with her is something I’ve come to appreciate after living many years without it.

Chloe doesn’t even stir as I pull myself from underneath her. She sleeps like the dead and looks good doing it.

Not wanting her to wake up and find me in this position, I move quickly through the motions of putting on my leg. I glance over my shoulder halfway through the process. She replaced me with a pillow, and I instantly regret getting out a bed.

I look back down at my leg. One day I’ll feel comfortable enough to share this part of me with someone else. But today is definitely not the day.

26

Santiago

“Chloe, are you sure that you’re okay with being filmed for my vlog?” Maya looks over at Chloe with her camera clutched in her palm. Ever since I stepped on the empty racetrack, my skin has been clammy and my heart has been beating at a rapid pace.

Bandini employees work in the pit lane. The crew secures spare tires and checks on car parts after Noah’s earlier practice rounds. If I close my eyes, I can imagine the noises and smells of a race day. Besides the occasional crew member looking up at us, everyone keeps to themselves. I didn’t realize how much I missed the energetic buzz of the pit on a race weekend. It’s become a distant memory after all these years.

“Sure! How hard can a race be?” Chloe checks out the sleek Bandini sports car.

A race?!

“Against Maya? Don’t let her fool you. She knows her way around a car better than half the crew.” Noah wraps an arm around Maya’s waist.

I tuck my hand in

the back pocket of her shorts and pull her flush against my side. “Since when did you plan a race?” I whisper in her ear.

“Since your sister texted me this morning asking if I would do a vlog with her. She is very persuasive and I had a hard time saying no.”

“How did you even get each other’s num—” I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a deep breath. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. You can’t drive.”

“Why?” She shakes her head in a sassy way.

I’d find it endearing under any other circumstance. Now, her defiance annoys me.

“Maya, Chloe can’t drive. She doesn’t have a license,” I announce to the group.

“You suck,” Chloe mumbles under her breath.

I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear and lean in to whisper, “My goal is for you to suck, but this is good enough for now.”

Her crimson cheeks are the only response I get.

“Oh. I didn’t realize you just learned to drive. We can do something else. How about an exclusive interview? I’m sure my fans would go crazy to learn more about you.” Maya’s eyes perk up.

Hell no. That plan is somehow even worse than this one.

“That sounds like a great idea.” Noah’s smile grows larger as he gauges my reaction.

Fucker. The last thing I want is Maya interviewing Chloe. It might put our game at risk, and I can’t have that. It’s purely selfish of me, but I want to keep faking it with Chloe. It gives her a reason to stay around me.