The Full Velocity Series Box Set

by Tracie Delaney

  His brow furrowed in confusion. “You did? When?”

  “While the band played in the bar. Before the fight with Eric.”

  He arched a brow. “You told me knowing I wouldn’t have a chance of hearing a word.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “Busted.”

  He laughed, the sound all too brief. Tentative fingers reached for me, wrapping around a tendril of hair. “Can you forgive me?”

  Could I? Was it that easy to simply forget he’d omitted a crucially important part of his life, one he felt comfortable telling his boss, but not the girl he’d been dating for the last six months? We might have started out as casual, but now, we were a far cry from that.

  “I need time, Devon. You had a chance to tell me in Montreal, but instead, you chose to lie about your stubborn refusal to go climbing. If there was ever a time to reveal the truth, that was it. But you didn’t. And yet Jack knows.”

  He winced. “I hated lying to you, but I panicked. All of a sudden, my past collided with my present in the most horrific way. I didn’t have the words to explain. And Jack only knows because at the time it happened, I fell apart. I had no choice but to tell him.”

  “Even so, you say you love me, yet not enough to trust me with something that will be a fundamental part of your life. Forever, Devon. Not a fleeting problem that will disappear. Charlotte is going to need help and support for the rest of her life.” I blew out a despairing sigh. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

  “Yes,” he insisted.

  “When?”

  His hand came over his face. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

  I got to my feet, my future filled with questions I needed to find the answers to before I could commit to a course I could live with. “Give me some space to think this through. I’ll be in touch.”

  He shot out of his chair, his expression panicked. “You’re leaving?”

  I nodded. “I’m going to go back to the States for a while. I need time alone. Away from you.” And to talk to Babs. If anyone can make sense of this, it’s her. “If I stay here, my love for you will simply muddy the waters. I don’t know if I can get past the fact you didn’t trust me. And without trust, there is no relationship, no future. No hope.”

  He clutched my arms, his touch so warm, so familiar. “Please don’t go. We can work through this.”

  “I can’t.”

  I shrugged him off and walked away from the man I loved and who loved me, each step like a dagger through my heart.

  Reilley

  “Well, that’s a story and a half,” Babs said as she moved to top off my wine.

  I placed my hand over the glass to stop her, my brain already fuzzy from too much alcohol. “Understatement of the century.”

  “I mean, what a guy. Seriously. Total keeper.”

  I shot her a ‘what the fuck?’ glare. “He lied to me, Babs. There were so many times over the last few months he could have told me, yet he didn’t. I can’t simply sweep that under the carpet, forget it happened.”

  Tears of frustration pricked behind my eyes. I missed Devon, so much. Since leaving him in Monza, these past two weeks had crawled by, but I couldn’t find a solution which would allow us to move forward. The answer simply wouldn’t come to me.

  I turned my attention to the blue waters of Lake Michigan beyond the wall of windows, the late summer sun creating a red-yellow glow across the sky as it vanished beyond the horizon. The couch beside me dipped, and Babs sat in the spare seat to my right. She surprised me by staying quiet, her soft breathing the only sound.

  Clever bitch.

  She knew me far too well.

  “Why did you say that?”

  “Say what, sweetie?” she replied innocently, despite knowing precisely what I meant.

  “That he’s a keeper.”

  Babs swirled her wine glass by the stem, the liquid sloshing up the sides. She didn’t spill a drop.

  “How many men do you know who would pour so much financial support into a woman they barely knew, even if they did blame themselves for her predicament? I’ll tell you the answer. None. Correction. One. Devon ‘I’m a saint’ Gray. I mean, jeez, most guys might have stuck around for a month, maybe two. But five years? Fuck, Riles, that’s unbelievable. That’s character, right there. That’s a man you should drag down the aisle without hesitation, the kind who’ll stick with you through thick and thin.”

  A little voice at the back of my mind, one that had been growing louder, wouldn’t be silenced any longer. “And that’s the problem isn’t it? I’ll always come second. As long as she’s alive, she’ll be his priority. Her sister said as much.”

  Yeah, it made me a total asswipe for saying it out loud, and Babs was the only one I’d ever share that shit with, but now it was out there, I felt a lot better. Cleansed. Time to lock that thought away and never speak of it again. I didn’t wish any ill-will against Charlotte. I was glad she had Devon to take care of her. That ‘what about me?’ bullshit could fuck the hell off. I wasn’t that girl.

  Babs squinted at me. “Tell me something. You’ve been dating Devon for what, six months?”

  “Correct.”

  “And during that time, you didn’t have an inkling about Charlotte?”

  I huffed. We’d been over this. “No. Like I said. Not a clue.”

  Babs pinched her lips to the side. “So do share, Riles, exactly when did you feel like he was putting you second?”

  Clever bitch… again.

  “Never,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

  “Well, there you go then,” Babs said, dusting off her palms.

  “That still doesn’t alter the facts, Babs.”

  “Okay, tough love time, sweetie. Ready?” She didn’t wait for me to agree. “You’re behaving like a child, Reilley.”

  “Now, hang on—”

  “Shush. I’m talking. You’re listening. Can you even begin to imagine the guilt of feeling responsible for someone ending up in a wheelchair, their entire future devastated in the blink of an eye? Of wondering how others would view you if they knew? Think about it, Reilley. You’re a writer, penning the guy’s life story, and what an emotionally explosive chapter this would make. Hell, I’d have kept my mouth shut if I thought that might happen.”

  “I would never put what happened to Charlotte in a book. Not without Devon’s express approval.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. I know that, because I’ve known you for years, but Devon hasn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not diminishing your feelings here. You have a right to feel hurt. The guy you’re in love with kept a huge secret, and he didn’t trust you enough to share. Trust is the very last thing that comes in a relationship, after lust, after friendship, after love. And yet it’s the most fragile, too. So yeah, let it sting, but don’t wallow in it. Allow yourself to feel the pain, but don’t let it ruin a good thing.”

  I felt like a naughty child being told off by the school principal, but her words made a lot of sense.

  “You know who you should be mad at?”

  I met her gaze. “Who?”

  “Fucking Caroline. Little bitch. She told you for one reason only. To cause problems between you and Devon. I mean, think about it. For five years, she’s been able to rely on him bankrolling her sister’s care, probably using him as an emotional crutch, or punch bag depending on her mood. Then along you come, stealing him away. She panics, thinking that she might have to actually take some fucking responsibility. So what does she do? Blabs about something Devon feels a deep sense of culpability about before he’s ready to tell you himself. And there’s only one reason for her loose lips.”

  “To break us up?” I murmured.

  “Precisely.”

  “She loves her sister, though. I mean, I didn’t get the sense she was faking her pain when we talked.”

  “I don’t doubt it. And how wonderful for her to have a guy who’d been dating her sister for the sum total of fuck all months to take care of everything, so she doesn
’t have to worry.”

  Digging my fingertips into my temple, I sighed. “I don’t know what to do, Babs.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “You know I do.”

  She hitched a shoulder. “Then everything else is just white noise. Work through it. Talk to him. Find a way through, cuz let me tell you, sweetie, finding ‘the one’ is hard enough without tossing him aside over an easily fixable issue.”

  I snorted. “Easily fixable? I don’t think lying is a solid foundation to any relationship.”

  Babs let out an exasperated sigh, her patience with me clearly running close to empty. “The question you need to answer is would you be happier with him,including all his baggage, or without him?”

  My cheeks puffed up as I expelled a breath, and I stared at my hands. “I don’t know.”

  Babs gave me a sympathetic head tilt, combined with a squeeze of my arm. “Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face, Riles. You’re neither a vindictive person, nor a jealous one. I don’t mean to repeat myself, but really, I think Devon is pretty fantastic for sticking by her like that.”

  She finished her drink, set it down on the side table to her right, and stood. “Right, time to go home to my useless ass of a husband. I bet he hasn’t even loaded the dishwasher.”

  I laughed. “Richard is terrific, and you know it.”

  Her lips curved into a secret smile. “He has his uses.”

  Despite her earlier edict regarding my lack of jealousy, a twinge of envy nipped at my gut. Babs and Richard had a great marriage. Not perfect, but one built out of mutual respect. I wanted the same. I deserved the same.

  I rose from the couch to see her out. We hugged in the doorway, and then I found myself alone with nothing but my thoughts.

  And I still had no idea what to do.

  The following morning, my watch buzzed at six a.m. Groaning, I rolled over. With all the traveling I’d been doing of late, I’d horribly neglected exercise. Last night while I’d lain awake trying to find an answer to the worst conundrum of my life, I’d set my alarm to go for a run. I often went for a run whenever I struggled with a piece of writing, and as I jogged along the edge of Lake Michigan, the solution would frequently present itself.

  I needed that kind of illumination today.

  Fifteen minutes later, I exited my building. The sun hadn’t quite peeked over the horizon yet, although the sky showed promise of the approaching light. I set off at a fast pace, my ponytail bouncing, the breeze buffeting my bare arms and face. I ran flat-out for ten minutes, then slowed my pace. I hadn’t planned a route, although as Navy Pier came into view, I couldn’t say I was surprised. This place held nothing but happy memories, not least because I’d been here with Devon less than two months ago. I slowed to a walk and strolled past the closed stalls, pausing halfway down the pier. Resting my elbows on the railing, I stared out at the lake, the waters dark and eerie, searching for answers that wouldn’t be forthcoming from a body of water. No, those answers needed to come from within me.

  On a whim, I removed my phone from where I’d tucked it into the pocket of my athletic gear. I stared at the string of text messages Devon and I had shared, going all the way back to Melbourne in March this year. I scrolled through, carefully reading each one, noticing how they’d changed from stiff and businesslike, to a hint of friendship, then mutual respect, and finally, love.

  Devon had sent me several texts after I’d left Monza two weeks ago, but when each one had gone unanswered, he’d stopped.

  My fingers hovered over the keys, urging me to reach out. To touch base. To at least let him know I hadn’t given up on him. On us.

  Oh, to hell with it.

  I checked my watch, running the time difference math in my mind. Thirteen hours. That would make it fifteen before eight in the evening. He could still be at the track, depending on how the day’s meetings had gone ahead of the practice sessions tomorrow.

  Only one way to find out.

  Hi.

  Nothing else, just a simple greeting that left it completely up to him whether or not he responded. I stared at the phone, willing those dots to appear to indicate a response was on its way.

  My pulse jolted as I got my wish.

  Hi.

  He’d left the door open, but I had to be the one to walk through. He’d done his groveling, and I’d ignored his valiant efforts. My turn had come.

  I miss you.

  I counted a good long minute before his reply came through.

  Come to Singapore. We can’t solve anything with nine thousand miles between us.

  Was it really that easy? Jump on a plane and back into Devon’s arms? Forgive and forget, and move on with our lives?

  He was right about one thing, though: we wouldn’t solve anything unless we talked. Properly. I booked a plane ticket before I lost my nerve, winced at the cost of the last-minute fare, then texted him back.

  Ticket booked. Be there in time for the race.

  Devon

  My mind jerked around as I went through the motions of the pre-race checks on Sunday morning. Conscious of Reilley’s imminent arrival, I fluctuated between utter joy she’d agreed to come and impending doom that this might be the last time I ever saw her. If she couldn’t forgive me for keeping Charlotte’s existence a secret, she’d walk. I knew it. I knew Reilley. She wasn’t a woman who compromised on her integrity. Not for me. Not for anyone.

  We had to find a way through this impasse. Yes, I’d lied to her, but God, I lived in hope she’d find it in her heart to make allowances for my utter failings to trust her. If I’d known we were going to fall in love, I would have done things differently. I did trust her, dammit. I’d simply discovered that truth far too late.

  Fucking Caroline.

  I curled my hands into fists. I hadn’t made any contact with her since she’d told Reilley about Charlotte. If I spoke to her now, I’d blast her so hard, my anger would peel the skin from her face. She’d had no right, no fucking right whatsoever, to tell Reilley. I knew she hated me, she’d made it obvious often enough, but this time, she’d gone too far.

  Luckily for her, we didn’t have another race in Europe, so I wouldn’t have chance to go to see Charlotte until the season ended, and therefore we could stay out of each other’s way.

  By then I might have calmed down.

  Maybe.

  “Relax,” Jack murmured, sliding onto the seat beside mine at the back of the garage. “You will work this out. Reilley’s a good girl. She’s smarting, that’s all. She feels excluded because I knew and she didn’t.”

  I didn’t respond, nor did I avert my gaze from the reams of information streaming across the screen. I had a job to do. Once that was over, I could give Reilley my full attention. Well, for a couple of days anyway. By Tuesday afternoon, I’d be on a plane to Sochi in Russia. The next race was fast approaching, and normally, I’d fly as soon as we finished here, but Jack had helpfully agreed I could follow on in a few days.

  His support humbled me.

  A buzzing in the pocket of my race suit had me reaching for my phone.

  Flight diverted. Sick passenger. Won’t make the race. Call me when you’re at the hotel.

  Bitter disappointment swept through me. I’d hoped she’d make it, but in hindsight, it was probably better for me if she didn’t. I wouldn’t be able to give her my full focus until after the race anyway.

  Will do. Text me when you land.

  I didn’t wait for her answer. Switching my phone to silent, I slipped it in my pocket. Time to go to work.

  The race went off without a hitch, apart from the small matter of Jared coming in second to Tate, cutting his lead at the top of the leaderboard. After Tate’s horrific accident last year, Jack had been worried he wouldn’t regain his edge. Yeah, I’d thought it funny, too. This was Tate Flynn. He only had edges.

  I checked my phone on the way to the post-race team briefing. Reilley had texted me an hour ago to say she’d landed. She should be at the hotel
by now. The news sent my mind careering away from the race. With considerable effort, I forced my brain to engage in the conversation swirling around me.

  Jared and Tate bantering, each one trying to best the other.

  Jack banging the table, attempting to bring everyone to order.

  Rob, Tate’s engineer, smirking at something on his phone.

  “Devon, why don’t you start.”

  Yes, this was what I needed. Structure.

  Routine.

  Normality.

  I cleared my throat and began.

  Two hours later, I was sitting in the back of a cab on the way to the hotel. Jack and the rest of the team had gone out to dinner to celebrate, but I had only one thing on my mind: Reilley.

  The cab stopped outside the hotel, and I walked into the lobby, my palms clammy and heart beating an irregular rhythm. I strode toward the bank of lifts when a movement to my left caught my eye. Reilley stood in the entranceway to the bar, looking more uncertain than I’d ever seen her. Reilley oozed self-assurance at every juncture, yet standing there, biting the inside of her cheek and wringing her hands, she exuded doubt.

  My steps were tentative, as were hers. We met halfway.

  I gave her a wry smile. “You must be exhausted.”

  She flung her arms around my neck, taking me by surprise. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice muffled, her lips touching my neck as she spoke, sending ripples of pleasure through my body.

  I eased her back, cupping her nape with one hand. “Sorry for what, darl?”

  A faint smile lifted her lips at my Aussie endearment. “For running.”

  I caressed my knuckles over her cheek, relishing the feel of her soft skin. “You didn’t run. You took some time for yourself, time you’re entitled to. I get it, Riles. Believe me, I understand how let down you must feel, how betrayed. How angry and hurt. But you have to believe me. I would have told you, eventually.”

  Her gaze locked on mine, her attention unwavering. “Would you?”