Page 126 of Full Throttle

Hopefully.

Dominic knocked.

“Come in,” Juliette called.

He pushed open the door. Juliette wore gray trackies and a white T-shirt, her hair pulled back in a hasty ponytail; grapefruit bodywash and that maddening strawberry scent filled the room. She paused, a jumper dangling over her suitcase.

“Ah.” Her expression was neutral. “I was wondering if you’d stop by before the race.”

Dominic shut the door. “I came last night.”

“I know. Baz told me.”

She turned back to packing. Dominic shifted the cardboard tray in his hands, assessing. So Juliette knew that he’d come by. Was that a good thing? Probably not since she hadn’t texted. But perhaps she’d been asleep for most of the evening. No need to jump to conclusions.

“How are you feeling?” Dominic asked.

She zipped up the bag. “I’m cleared to drive today. So that’s good.”

“Here. This is for you.”

He held out a cardboard cup. Juliette took off the lid, sniffing.

“What is it?”

Dominic set down the tray. “An apology. You were on for a good lap time yesterday. Until I messed things up.”

She took a sip. “Dirty chai. You remembered.”

Dominic braced a hand against a chair. “I remember everything, when it comes to you.”

The words felt like a painful admission. Juliette paused, the coffee raised halfway to her mouth. She looked on the verge of saying something, but it was too late, because he was already speaking. Babbling like an idiot, probably.

“I should have realized you were behind me. But Sinclair was ahead, and I was going into the corner—”

“And before that?”

He paused. “What do you mean?”

“What happened in the garage?”

Dominic suppressed a wince. He’d almost forgotten she’d witnessed that. “I shouldn’t have hit him. But…” He hesitated. “Did you sleep with Sinclair in Milan? Did you go back to his hotel after we—” had sex on the roof of a cathedral?

Juliette’s eyes narrowed. “Is that what he told you?” The answer must have been written all over his face because she exhaled. “He kissed me.”

His stomach tightened. “When?”

“Before the party.” Juliette paused. “It’s safe to say that I didn’t encourage it.”

Dominic stilled. He was suddenly very aware of the fast pulse of his heart, the ringing in his ears. His knuckles were white on the chair. When he spoke, his voice was calm.

“I take it back.”

“Which part?”

Something dark swelled in his chest. “I’m glad I hit the bastard.” He released the chair. “But I really am sorry about the rest of it.”

Juliette looked to the window. The curtains hung limp in the arid heat, like wilting flower petals. Dominic steeled himself. Screw it. He was just going to tell her everything and then throw himself on her mercy. The words beat like a silent drum. I’m sorry that I lied. I’m sorry that I didn’t realize how I felt earlier, but I want to be with you.