They’d never see each other. It would end before it ever got off the ground. The best, kindest thing they could do for one another would be to part as good friends, especially since she intended to be in his life at least for the next eight years. They’d run into each other whenever he saw his father, at least whenever he was in Washington. If their relationship ended badly, that could get ugly, and she’d worked too damn hard to lose her job over a relationship.
No, best to end things on a good note, so they could see each other and be friendly, remember the good times they had, and leave it at that.
After all, her career meant the world to her.
Someday, she’d figure out how to have it all.
But she wasn’t going to have everything she wanted with Gray.
“Tired?” he asked her as he smoothed his hand over her hair.
She nodded. “A little.”
“You’re juggling a lot. You know it’s okay if you want to head over to the convention.”
“Trying to get rid of me?” she asked with a faint smile, hoping he wouldn’t keep pushing her away, even though it was inevitable.
“No. Trying to make this easier on you.”
She wanted to ask if the “easier” part was her doing her part at the convention or the end of their relationship. But she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. She was brave in so many aspects of her life and her career, but in this, she felt weak. “I don’t need easy.”
“I’ll leave that up to you, then. If you want to stay for the race tomorrow, I’ll be happy to have you here. But it won’t crush me if you feel the need to get back to your job.”
In other words, he was giving her up, giving her the chance to be the first one to walk away.
Damned if she’d do that. “I want to see you race tomorrow.”
“Okay.” He pulled her back into bed and shut off the light. She lay there, staring into the darkness, trying to figure out how they were going to bridge this gap, this silent dance of the end of their relationship.
It hurt. And she hated it.
TWENTY-SEVEN
RACE DAY DAWNED BRIGHT AND SUNNY AND PROMISED to be miserably hot, just the way Gray liked it.
It was going to be a great day. He and Donny were both going to race well. He could feel it.
Having Evelyn in the pit box meant everything to him. He’d woken her up this morning by making love to her, a silent, smokin’-hot way to start the day. He’d rolled her over and slid inside her before she was fully awake. She’d run her hands all over him, kissing him with a quiet desperation that he couldn’t quite fathom.
It had felt an awful lot like good-bye, and he didn’t like that feeling at all.
He was still going ahead with his plans, but he really needed to talk to her first, rather than presume. He’d talk to her after the race today. She was going to head to the convention center after the race, and he knew he wouldn’t have much time with her after that because she’d be busy with his dad and all things politics for the next week.
It was time he declared how he felt about her, so she’d be clear, and so he wouldn’t take any major steps without knowing if she felt the same way about him.
They’d kept their relationship discreet, so he kissed her in his trailer before heading out to do his pre-race media interviews. Evelyn had headed to her hotel to pack up and check out, then she’d come back to the track. As he climbed into his car, he saw her in the pit box smiling down at him. He winked at her and after that it was all business for him as he strapped in and took his position in the line of cars gearing up for the race.
It was going to be a grueling race today.
He couldn’t wait to get started.
*
SITTING IN THE PIT BOX WAS HELL WHEN ALL EVELYN wanted to do was stand and pace. Or maybe get in one of those cars and put it to the floor and see how fast she could drive off some of this excess anxiety that had been plaguing her for the past few days.
The roar of the engines for the past three hundred miles only added to her stress level. She was biting her nails because Gray was in tenth place, and she knew it wasn’t where he wanted to be. A pit road miscue and his car not performing the way he wanted to meant he had to be frustrated not to be in the front.
But there was still time for him to make his way to the lead and pull off a desperately needed win. She rocked back and forth in her chair and Ian gave her the side eye again. She was certain her constant mobility drove him crazy, but there wasn’t much she could do about it, given her current state. There was just too much going on in her mind—the race, the upcoming convention, what a win for Senator Preston would mean to her career, and the most important thing—her relationship with Gray.
She was going to miss him so much. She’d never once thought her career would get in the way of how she felt about a man. Career had always been the most important thing in her life, and she thought it always would be, no matter what.
Now she found herself wondering how she could juggle her career and still have the man she loved, and what Gray would say if she presented the option of the two of them figuring out a way to be together.
She dragged her fingers through her hair for the umpteenth time, not knowing what to do. What if she told him how she felt and he didn’t feel the same way? She’d never been rejected before. It would hurt so badly.
But what if she didn’t tell him how she felt, and the two of them parted and he never knew? They could have an amazing life together. Was she willing to walk away from that because she was afraid of that rejection?
She was stronger than that, and she knew it.
She was going to tell him after the race today that she was in love with him, and if he didn’t feel the same way, she’d survive. At least she’d know. At least she’d have laid it all out there.
“Sonofabitch,” Ian said, pushing himself to his feet.
She hadn’t even seen the crash. All Evelyn saw was smoke. Her heart stuttered as she searched the field of cars for the number fifty-three, hoping and praying he wasn’t in the middle of the sudden wreckage and flames from the ugliest crash she’d ever seen.
She held her breath, scanning the cars that had slowed down and passed the carnage. She couldn’t even count the cars involved in the smash-up, but it looked like the ones that had been involved were demolished.
As the other cars passed by, she looked at their numbers. She saw Donny’s car and breathed a sigh of relief, but there was no number fifty-three.