Liam
I performed decently during my qualifier, landing the P3 position for the final race of the season. The positive placement doesn’t carry the same excitement despite my runner-up standing for the entire World Championship. Noah and my competition lack the same fun, with another year of us fucking around for the top spot.
Sophie doesn’t make it to the press conference, probably due to an intense hangover she undoubtedly suffers from today. Her absence means I can’t speak to her before McCoy keeps me busy for the day. With her refusing to answer my texts, I’m left with no way to talk to her, her absence leaving a void in me.
Unfortunately for me, surprises don’t stop coming. Not only did a newspaper publish a terrible photo of me carrying a passed-out Sophie, but James Mitchell comes up to me once an F1 member calls the end of the qualifier conference.
“I need you to come with me.” His green eyes, a copy of Sophie’s, glare at me. Where Sophie’s eyes fill me with warmth, his remind me of a stern parent. And one look from him tells me to not fuck around and give him a hard time.
I follow him to his Bandini office.
“Sit down. Can I get you something to drink?” His cordialness surprises me.
“A water’s fine.”
He passes me a chilled bottle before taking a seat at his desk. I break out into a smile when I check out his framed photo. A younger Sophie sports a toothy grin and space buns, ignoring how her body is surrounded by bubble wrap. Her little Nike shoes peek out from underneath her.
My head lifts to meet her dad’s face, his jaw twitching as he looks at me like I admitted to killing the family pet.
“See, as much as I want to pay you off to never step foot near my daughter again, I know we both have her best intentions in mind. I did some digging. When my daughter comes to me, not eating or smiling, I will do anything to make sure whatever fucker hurt her regrets the day his parents conceived him. Forget being born because nine months in the womb counts as too much freedom.”
Holy shit, he’s intense as fuck.
He keeps going. “I’m livid about how she got hammered and ended up featured in a gossip article because she was unable to control her rampant emotions about you. It eats me alive, knowing she’s upset. So, I found out the man who needs to be held responsible for her crying. I did the heavy lifting because when my baby girl looks at me with tears in her eyes, I stop at nothing. Let that be a warning. My rules were meant to prevent this very thing from happening to her. But you slipped in and tore down her defenses, and she fell in love with you. God knows why.” He closes his eyes and pinches his nose.
His words hang between us. Is he talking about me? Does he want to kick my ass?
James senses my confusion and opens up a file on his desk while sliding a matching one to me. “Sophie confessed something heart-wrenching to me a few days ago. She shared how your agent told her you had to dump her if you wanted a spot with McCoy. How if you didn’t agree to the offer, you’d be demoted to one of the bottom teams. Imagine my daughter receiving this news with her heart of gold. She understands the consequences of a decision like that because she grew up learning about this business. But most importantly, she gets you because she loves you. You played right into her fear of you not loving her back, proving to her why her sacrifice was worth it. Because you showed her how you love racing more than you love her. Sophie admitted to me how you’d freak out if she said she loved you. Congratulations, Liam, you won the biggest dumbass award. Sorry, it doesn’t come with a champagne shower and a trophy, but hopefully your heart hurts like a bitch because my daughter’s sure does.”
My hand stills on the manila file, his words tearing into me. Shit. Fucking shit. She knew? Why didn’t she say anything? Not a word about Rick ever passed her lips. Never did she mention my contract, or how McCoy was threatening our relationship. But why would she when she knew I kept it as a secret?
My mind races, assessing words she threw in my face when I took her to the desert. Her weird pushiness about the McCoy contract and the answers I gave.
I’m a fucking idiot. A walking, talking dumbass who gave her every reason to do what she did. She set me free so I could keep living my dream. It was a selfless act that crushed us both, me because I’m a coward and afraid of love. And her because she loves me and wants the best for me.
“When did she find this out?” I choke on the words, my hands shaking as I lift the water bottle to my lips. My throat feels like I swallowed acid instead of water.
“Brazil. Your piece of shit agent cornered her and told her all about your current dilemma. I don’t know whether to pity you or punch you for taking so long to decide your feelings about my daughter. I know you love her. But her? Not so much. But after everything, why should she?”
My teeth press together painfully at his judgment. I deserve it and everything else he swings my way. “I do love her. I didn’t need to decide because I was waiting to hear what McCoy would say about my revisions. I told them to modify the deal or fuck off. But they didn’t tell me or Rick anything.”
“If I were you, I’d fire your agent and find better representation. Fuck, I’ll help you. But I’m getting off-task, and I’m a busy man as you can imagine.”
A cold feeling creeps up my spine. I nod along, confused and wanting any answers he can give me. His eyes slide from my face to my squeezed fists and shaking leg.
“You know, I kept my daughter away from this place for years because I love her. I want her to be happy—not caught up in this life of deception and shitty people like Rick. I tried to protect her from a life full of missed dinners, phone calls interrupting important moments, and men who can’t commit for shit. All I asked her to do was follow three simple rules. But during this season with you and her, I realize I made mistakes of my own, trying to protect her from making the same errors. She needs to live a life riddled with slipups and learned lessons. Because that’s the point. One day when you have kids, you’ll understand. You’ll want to protect them with everything in you because you’ve never loved anything as fucking much as them. You’ll want to stop time and hold on to the special moments with a death-grip.” He taps on the photo of a bubble-wrapped Sophie. “No bubble wrap can save her from you. I know my daughter and you are the one thing I can’t shield her from.”
I don’t know what to say because words don’t come easily. The statement he shares affects me in different ways, pulling me apart in multiple directions.
“What you do with this information is your choice, but I thought it was worth sharing with you. If you want to prove to me that you’re the man for my daughter, then I suggest you choose what you do next very carefully. You’re a fortunate asshole because my daughter forgives easily.” His challenging glare doesn’t fill me with alarm. Instead, hope floods my veins and takes root.
I flip open the file James made for me. My eyes scan the pages, flipping through information, transcripts, and heaps of dishonesty. If I didn’t want to look psychotic in front of him, I’d scream up to the fucking ceiling at the information he found.
Instead, I mumble a thank you to James before taking the file and booking it to my suite. Lukas hangs out on the living room couch, still dressed in his McCoy gear after attending my qualifier. I itch to rip off my own McCoy shirt, but I keep it on, not wanting to waste time.
“I need your help.” I toss the file on his lap.
“What’s this?” He leaves it unopened as he stares at me.