Page 23 of Full Throttle

“Yes,” Cap said, sipping his soda, “but it’s a different sort of bready. The dough gets all claggy in your mouth and—” His gaze skipped to the tree, and he raised a hand. “Oh, there’s Hastings. We should go say hello.”

Adrenaline spiked. “No.”

Cap gave her an odd look. “He’s your teammate, isn’t he?” When Juliette didn’t answer, he exhaled. “Look, Hastings might seem a little…cold, but he’s a decent bloke. You’ll get on with him. Anyway, he’ll want to meet you. He takes an interest in rookies.”

She had the oddest urge to laugh. If only he knew. “We’ve met, remember? At the academy.”

Baz frowned. “I thought you two got on.”

“We used to.”

“But not anymore?”

Juliette crossed her arms. “I’m not going over there.”

Her voice was stern. It was the same voice she employed whenever Cap used her expensive pomegranate bodywash, or Ben complained about being too busy to call their grandmother on her birthday. The I-won’t-take-your-shit voice. It largely worked on her younger sister, Rosaline, but it was far less effective on Cap, who sighed.

“Fine,” Cap said. “Suit yourself. But I’m just saying—”

“Juliette,” Ranya called. “Come with me, please.”

Her team principal waved her over. Ranya had miraculously managed to blow-dry her hair in their two-hour turnaround after Juliette’s race-suit fitting, and she was sporting the same glittery golden cane. A wave of relief struck her.

Any escape would do.

Juliette muttered a quick goodbye before pushing through the crowd. She drew up next to Ranya, her eyes flicking to the bar. Perhaps they were off to get strong rum-based cocktails. Or to talk to the engineers about the new car design. Either would be preferable.

“Where are we going?”

Ranya raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t guessed?” She pushed through the crowd. “To say hello to your new teammate.”

Any relief vanished. “Oh. But I…”

Ranya gave her a piercing look. Juliette sighed.

“Lead the way.”

Chapter 8

Heart Racing

Dominic’s heart pounded so hard that he felt sick.

He snuck a surreptitious glance. Juliette was chatting with her brother; her dark hair was in a knot, and her wine-colored dress clung to her body in a way that ought to be illegal. She looked exactly like he remembered, only harder somehow. A diamond forged under pressure. Dominic swallowed. Stop fucking staring, he told himself sternly.

His body wouldn’t listen.

“Fucking hell,” Anthony muttered. “Is that the new girl?”

He was staring at Juliette with open appreciation, and Dominic stiffened. And, like the raging hypocrite he was, he dragged his gaze away.

“She has a name.”

“Sod that.” Anthony’s eyes hadn’t left Juliette. “Nobody told me how fit she was. Do you know if she’s single?”

Dominic looked at a bucket of wooden swords; it took an irrational amount of self-control not to hit Anthony over the head with one. “She’s a colleague. Show some respect.”

Anthony’s eyes narrowed. “You know her.”