These are my feelings alone, and they’re mine to keep, mine to covet.
If that makes me selfish, then selfish is what I am because I won’t give up these feelings for anything.
I’m giving my life. I just have to hope that it’s enough.
We’re at the Silverstone Circuit, attending the Grand Prix, currently seated in the hospitality area of a team called Rybell. Bernie provides sponsorship for them, has done so for years apparently. And, because Bernie is a sponsor, we get to sit in hospitality and meet with the team’s drivers. The reigning champion of the Grand Prix is one of Rybell’s drivers—Carrick Ryan. I might not follow Formula One, but I know who Carrick Ryan is. Everyone knows who Carrick Ryan is.
Tall, blond, Irish, and ridiculously good-looking—but not as good-looking as Liam.
I know, right? I’m saying Liam is better-looking than Carrick Ryan. I must have it bad. Or it’s just the plain truth. Liam is hotter and more handsome.
I’m going with the truth. Because, in my eyes, Liam is better.
He’s everything.
Carrick is Formula One’s golden boy. Once upon a time, he was Formula One’s bad boy, but he’s a changed man nowadays. Married to the love of his life.
Yep, I know who Carrick Ryan is.
Bernie, Liam, and I are seated at a table by the window. A few other people are here, too. I have no clue who they are—other sponsors, I’m guessing. I’m staring out the window, watching as people fill up the stands.
To be honest, it’s a little boring at the moment because the men are talking business, but overall, I don’t mind because I’m here with Liam. Once I get to meet Carrick—God, I hope I meet Carrick—and when the racing begins, I know it will be awesome.
We got to Silverstone by helicopter, and, yes, Liam flew the helicopter here. Apparently, he flies those as well as airplanes.
Turns out there is a helipad on his grandpa’s estate. They don’t travel to the Grand Prix like normal people would—you know, by car. Nope, the Hunter men like to go by air.
Can’t say I loved the experience of being in a helicopter, but I am getting used to flying the more I do it, and flying in a helicopter is one more thing to add and check off my list.
The best thing about the flight here was watching Liam control the helicopter. His hand wrapped around that control stick reminded me of our plane ride yesterday and when I blew him at twenty thousand feet.
God, that was hot. And so was the ass sex afterward.
Hottest thing ever.
I hear loud chatter as some people enter the room, and—
Oh my God.
One of them is Carrick Ryan.
He’s walking up front, wearing his driver’s uniform, and he has his arm around a stunning dark-haired, olive-skinned tall woman. She must be his wife. The one woman that turned his head and changed him.
I think pretty much all the women in the world collectively cried into their wine glasses the day that Carrick Ryan got married. Same as when Jake Wethers got married.
Like how I’ll cry from my seat in heaven the day Liam gets married to someone else.
What the hell? Where did that thought come from?
I shake it out of my head when I realize that Carrick and his wife have broken away from the people they entered the room with, and they’re walking over to where we are seated.
They might be walking toward us, but they’re still looking and talking to one another.
The way Carrick is staring at his wife’s face with complete adoration makes me feel a shot of envy.
To be looked at in that way. To have someone adore you so completely. I can’t even imagine.
I feel Liam’s hand curl around mine. I bring my eyes to him.
“You ready to meet Carrick Ryan?” He grins.
“Yeah.” I smile. But I don’t really feel it. For some reason, I feel a little sad right now.
“Carrick, Andi,” Bernie greets them, already on his feet. He kisses Andi on the cheek and then shakes Carrick’s hand. “How are you and the baby doing?” Bernie asks Andi.
My eyes follow down and see a tiny baby bump.
She’s having a baby.
Another thing I’ll never get to experience. But then, even if I were to have a full life, I wouldn’t be able to have a baby because I’m infertile. The radiation therapy from the first tumor saw to that. But I did have some of my eggs frozen. So, if I did live, then I could have a baby…
But I’m not going to live, so I need to stop thinking that way.
God, what the hell is wrong with me?
Stop the pity party, and cheer the hell up. You’re about to meet Carrick Ryan.
“Really well. Thanks, Bernie.” Andi doesn’t have an English accent like Liam’s or Bernie’s. Andi’s sounds different, like there’s a hint of something else in there. She smiles at Bernie, pressing her hand to her stomach and lovingly rubbing it.
Carrick’s hand covers hers. She smiles up into his face.
She looks radiant. Happy. Baby glow.
Pang of envy hits me again. Harder this time.