The previous part of our conversation and the cheeky glint in his eyes have me asking, “What kind of fun?”
“The fun kind.”
“The fun kind of fun?”
“Exactly.” He tilts his head, his lips teasing a smile.
It’s such a charming boyish smile that I find myself saying, “Okay, I’m in.”
After breakfast, Carrick goes back to his room to get his wallet, and I pop back up to my room to grab some money. Carrick told me to put some trainers on, so I’ve got a feeling we’re going to be doing some kind of sports activity.
Petra is still in bed, but she’s awake, sitting up and watching TV. “Hey, have I missed breakfast?” Her voice is all croaky.
“Yeah, they stopped serving at half past nine, but I grabbed you these.” I hand over a muffin and banana.
“Ah, you’re a star.” She pulls the wrapper off the muffin and starts nibbling on it. “So, what we doing today?”
I sit on the edge of my bed and kick my flip-flops off. I’m pushing my feet into my trainers when I answer. “Oh, I’m going out with, er…Carrick.”
That raises a brow. She knows Carrick and I get along well, and she hasn’t said anything, but I know what she thinks.
“Just as friends,” I add.
“Yeah, I got that.”
“You did?”
“Mmm.” She has another bite of muffin. “If you were going to shag, you would have done it by now. Carrick’s not one for messing around. It’s about time he learned how to be friends with a member of the opposite sex. I think it’s nice that you guys are friends.”
“Yeah,” I say on a smile.
“So, what are you both doing?”
“I don’t actually know.” I get my bag from down the side of my bed, checking my wallet is in it. “He won’t tell me, but apparently, it’s fun.”
“Well, have fun having your fun.”
Picking my sunglasses up from the dresser, I put them on my head and stop at the door. “Hmm. Do you want to come with us?” It’s not exclusive to him and me. I don’t think.
“Nah, all I’m up for today is lounging by the pool.”
“Catch you later.” I pull open the door.
“We going out tonight?”
“Definitely.”
Leaving Petra, I head back to the elevator to meet Carrick in the lobby.
He’s already waiting for me when I get there. His lips lift into a smile when he sees me. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
I follow him out through the hotel to the parking garage.
Lifting his key, he unlocks the door to a sleek black Mercedes SLS AMG Roadster.
“Nice,” I comment.
“Loaner.” He shrugs. “The dealers like to give me cars when I’m here for races.”
“Must be awesome being you.” I let out a little dreamy sigh as my fingers run over the shiny paintwork of the car.
“It has its benefits.” He grins. “You wanna drive?” He holds up the key.
I feel a frisson of excitement, and then my face drops. “I don’t know where we’re going.”
“Ah, yeah, right. You can just drive back then.”
That lifts my smile right up.
I climb in the car, buckle in, and drop my sunglasses over my eyes. Carrick turns the engine on, the car filling with the sound of Clean Bandit’s “Real Love.” He puts his shades on and drives us out of the garage into the gorgeous sunny day.
“You want to go karting?” I stare up at the sign above the entrance, my hands going to my hips.
We’re standing outside the Sepang Kart Circuit, which is adjacent to the track he’ll be racing on in a few days.
“Yep,” he says from beside me.
“But you race for a living.”
“So?”
“Okay, so you want me to race against you, the previous karting and current Formula One champion of the world. Well, I guess at least I won’t feel too bad when I lose.”
“If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you win.”
“Ugh, a pity win? No, that’s even worse.” I nudge my shoulder into his, ignoring the pang of attraction I feel at the contact.
He chuckles.
“Actually, should you be doing this? What if you get hurt?” Disconcerted, I look at him.
If he hurts himself and can’t race and Owen and Pierce find out I was with him, my head will be on the chopping block.
He gives me an insulted look. “You know who you’re talking to, right? I’m Carrick Ryan, god of the tracks.”
“Ha!” I laugh. “Should I bow at your feet, oh godly one?”
“Not necessary, young grasshopper.”
He pats me on the head with his hand, and I bat him away, causing him to laugh.
Then, his face sobers. “But…what I do need from you is your silence.”
“Silence?” I cock my head in confusion.
“Mmhmm. My dad doesn’t know I’m here, for the prior mentioned reason, so to save me a month of earache from him about my irresponsible behavior, it’d be great if you kept this little karting thing a secret.”
“Ah.” I fold my arms. “So, I’m your dirty little secret.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but you can be my dirty secret if you want to be. You only have to say the word.”
Tutting, I shake my head in mock disgust, which earns me a filthy sounding chuckle. I pretend not to feel it in every part of me.
“So, what you’re actually asking is for me to keep this a secret from your dad, who coincidentally scares the crap out of me?” I say, diverting back to the original subject matter.