One Last Fling - Chapter 4

Cam

Zandvoort always felt like a track that wanted something from you. The banked curves rising to challenge you, the fierce wind off the North Sea trying to push the car off the track, the grandstands buzzing even for the first practice session. Cam loved it. He loved how alive it felt.

This year, it made his skin itch.

He climbed out of the car after qualifying, helmet tucked under his arm, heart still racing. Solid session. Not spectacular, but clean. He’d be starting in P7 tomorrow. Normally, that might have been enough to steady him, especially given the fragile nature of his position on the team. But today, all he could think about was Lily. That text he’d sent last night had gone unanswered.

She was walking through the paddock, hair pulled back in a sexy, but no-nonsense knot. She was laughing with her engineer. Focused, but relaxed. Of course. She’d driven beautifully that day and qualified in P2.

Good. She should ignore me. Only problem with that—they were both going to end up in the same meeting with PR in an hour.

“Decent job today,” one of the engineers said as Cam walked in for his debrief.

Decent? “Car felt great,” he replied, opting for the diplomatic response. As he took his seat, he caught a snippet of conversation. He’s not signed yet. This was following him like a shadow. He texted his dad, who was also his manager. He couldn’t be there that weekend, which just felt off. Like his own father was avoiding him. Anything re: contract?

You’ll know as soon as I do. I’m trying not to rock the boat. Hold tight. Great job in qualifying today!

Cam sighed, then answered questions in the debrief, doing his best to stay focused. His dad had taught him early—look unbothered, even when you are. Afterward, PR swooped in with Lily in
tow.

“Sponsor dinner tonight,” the coordinator said. “Casual but polished. And Cam—you and Lily will be seated together. People just love you two together. There’s a spark.”

Cam almost laughed. Across the room, Lily stiffened. She met his gaze for half a second, expression unreadable, then looked away. Got it.

That night, the setting for dinner was a bizarre mix of candlelight, soft music and too many executives pretending they weren’t watching the drivers like they were racehorses. Cam pulled out
Lily’s chair before he gave himself time to overthink it.

“Thanks,” she said, polite and cool.

Her attitude was telling him everything he needed to know. It was game-on between them, the spoils—meaning his seat—to the victor. Still, conversation flowed at the table—travel, sponsors, racing anecdotes Cam had told a hundred times. He kept his tone light, his hands to himself, his eyes forward. But he could tell that Lily was wound tight. Tension radiated off her.

He leaned closer. “You don’t have to be so serious. Everyone at this table already thinks you’re terrifying.”

She glanced at him. “I am terrifying.”

“But right now you look like you’re deciding whether to overtake someone at Turn 3 or simply destroy their life.”

Lily snort-laughed, then unleashed a soft smile. “I guess I didn’t realize I was so tense.”

He had to stop himself from busting out the world’s most ridiculous grin. “I can help you with that, you know.”

 “I know.” Lily’s foot brushed his under the table. Accidental? He wasn’t sure.

The executive across from them raised a glass. “To teamwork,” he said. “On and off the track.”

Cam side-eyed Lily. She did the same to him. Something electric hummed between them—dangerous and impossible to ignore. And for the first time all day, Cam decided to worry a little less about his seat and a little more about his love life. If he played his cards right, this weekend might end up being full of surprises.