Page 98 of Over the Limit

And more than that, I know for a fact that Rossi and I will never be a couple again. Especially not after being with and experiencing someone who puts me first. Who tries to take care of my needs, despite being a world-famous driver with people who adore and obsess over him.

Lachlan derives pleasure in putting me first, not in the pampering of his ego.

“Um. It sounds like you’re busy. I’ll let you go.”

“Yep.” He clears his throat. “Yeah.”

“I’m here if you ever need to talk.”

“Nah. I’m good.”

“Well, good luck in quali today.”

He pauses. “Goodbye, Blair.”

I sit and stare out the window at the streets below for a long time after he ends the call.

“Everything is up in the air. I used to have two constants—you and my ride—and right now I don’t have the first and the second is unknown so it’s just . . . unsettling.”

Rossi is struggling. Yes, he’s struggling because I broke it off with him, but it’s the consequences of his own actions. He didn’t value me as he should have.

Because of that, I hear him, I feel for him, but not enough to stop and coddle him. He needs to figure his own shit out.

And meanwhile, I’ll be putting myself first in a relationship where someone else does the same.

“Then you must be looking down where I’m on the floor because I already fell a damn long time ago.”

I’m falling in love with the man who states he’s already there.

It’s the weirdest, most wonderful, most satisfying feeling.

I’m happy. Truly happy in a way I haven’t been in as long as I can remember.

And I deserve to feel that way.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Blair

“Why do you continually show me things I didn’t think I needed?” I say as we stroll down the back alley behind the restaurant.

Lachlan’s hat is low on his head, his sunglasses are on despite it being evening, and his collar is popped to hide his profile.

“I was going stir-crazy and thought you might like to get out.”

“I was and I did. Thank you.”

I link my fingers with his, grateful that he arranged a private rooftop dinner for just the two of us.

“Cosiette is out of town,” he says of his friend’s villa on the outskirts of town where we just spent the evening. “He always offers his place to me for whatever reason and so this time I accepted it. I thought it was just what we needed. To be out . . . but not be out.”

“It was perfect.”

He stops and pulls me against him in a soul-searing kiss that leaves me dizzy.

“Now to get you back to your place before anyone sees us,” he says and then brushes a more tender, less hurried kiss against my lips.

“The sunglasses are throwing me,” I tease.