Faster Longer (Take Me...#3) (New Adult Bad Boy Racer Novel)

by Masters, Colleen

  I just don’t know what to make of the fact that he and Shelby were an item. I can’t stand the woman, and I’m hurt that Harrison didn’t tell me. But if he’s telling the truth, if the picture of them was taken out of context, can I really hold his past relationships against him? I’ve certainly dated my fair share of unfortunate specimens. It just hurts, having grown so close to someone and realizing that I don’t even know the entirety of his past.

  If he kept Shelby a secret from me, what else is he hiding? Is there any weight to the accusation that he’s been using me all this time? As much as infidelity would sting, it wouldn’t be anywhere near as devastating as learning that Harrison’s feelings for me were entirely fabricated—a performance to throw Enzo off his game. With so many rumors flying through the air, I have no idea what to believe any more.

  The sound of raised voices floats across our property like a phantom. I frown at the unexpected noise—the commotion is too far off to be coming from the post-dinner gathering downstairs. I look off toward our front gates and remember the media circus that lingers there still. I feel my stomach flip as I imagine what new bone the press might have gotten a hold of. I’ve put off reading the internet or looking at any other newspapers since this morning. My story could be getting skewed in any direction and I wouldn’t even know.

  I’m just about to turn back inside to ask my family what the deal is when another far more familiar sound catches my ear. A revving engine growls up our driveway. Squealing tires sing out in the night. In the distance, headlights spring up out of nowhere, barreling toward our front door. There’s a car racing toward our house at top speed, but the vehicle travels along smooth as silk. Not many people could handle a car like that. In fact, I’ve only seen one man operate a vehicle with so much grace and ease.

  “You’ve got to be kidding...” I breathe, clutching onto the balcony railing.

  The headlights grow closer and closer as the car zooms along our drive. In a blaze of light and sound, it skids to a halt just before our front steps, growling like a big cat. The engine cuts suddenly, along with the gleaming lights. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the darkness as a car door opens and slams shut again. I peer over the railing, trying to see in the dim moonlight. A huge figure straightens up beside the car, taking long strides toward the front door of my family’s home. The soft light from above gleams against our visitor’s eyes—his gorgeous, sky blue eyes.

  “Harrison?” I breathe.

  Just below my window, the most beautiful face in the world turns up toward mine. The world comes back into focus around me. A crooked smile spreads across Harrison Davies lips as he crosses his cut arms.

  “There you are,” he calls up, “Sorry it took me so long to come after you. There were a few dozen reporters I had to scare off my lawn before I could get away.”

  “And fifty more at the front gates,” I remind him, “I’m sure they’re all pretty grateful to you for the photo op you just gave them.”

  “Frankly Siena,” Harrison drawls, affecting the worst southern accent I’ve ever heard in my life, “I don’t give a damn”.

  I laugh despite myself, so relieved to see him smiling. “You really need to keep your day job, Harrison. I don’t think you have a future on the big screen.”

  “Just the computer screen, apparently. Have you looked at the blogs?”

  “Absolutely not,” I tell him.

  “You should,” he says, “We need to see what people are saying so that we can come back with our own story. Our real story.”

  “You still want to try and make this work?” I ask, “Even after I stormed out on you this morning and everything?”

  “I deserved to be stormed out on,” Harrison says, “Siena, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about my fling with Shelby. That was wrong. I didn’t mention it because it meant absolutely nothing to me, to either of us. We were bored, and lonely, and it was stupid, but I should have told you the truth from the start.”

  “And what about the rest of the article?” I shoot back, “What about using me to get to Enzo, make a name for yourself as an F1 leading man?”

  “I hope you think enough of me to discount those rumors out of hand,” Harrison replies, “You can’t look me in the eye and tell me you think any of that bullshit is true. Can you, Siena?”

  “No,” I whisper, “No Harrison, I can’t.”

  “I know,” he says, taking a step forward, “I love you, Siena.”

  “I love you too,” I tell him, leaning over the railing. Staring down at him in the moonlight, I’m suddenly struck with the hilarity of our situation. Uncontrollable laughter grabs hold of me, making me double over in the darkness.

  “What so funny?” Harrison asks.

  “I...I’m standing here...on a freaking balcony...” I giggle, “We spent our first night together...hooking up in a bathroom, and here we are practically rehearsing for Romeo and Juliet, just like they say. What a couple of saps we’ve become.”

  “You’ve got a point,” Harrison grins.

  My laughter cuts off as a sliver of yellow light falls across Harrison’s face, widening until he’s bathed in it.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” I hear Enzo say from the front doorway.

  “Shit,” I mutter, turning on my heel and streaking down the staircase.

  In the foyer, all of Team Ferrelli has gathered behind Enzo, peering through the doorway. Just as I hit the tile of our front hall, Enzo strides out onto the driveway, fists balled up tight. Gus and Charlie lunge after him as Bex stands beside my dad, keeping him from joining in the impending fray. Mom is waiting for me at the foot of the steps. She offers out her hand and I take it. This is exactly the kind of situation she knows how to handle best. Together, we hurry out into the night to keep Harrison and Enzo from tearing each other limb from limb.

  “You have some nerve,” Enzo is saying as I step outside.

  “I wanted to come and explain myself,” Harrison says, holding up his hands.

  “We are so beyond that, Davies,” Enzo growls, “And we’re far away from any F1 track. I could beat you senseless and no one would be able to stop me.”

  “I beg to differ,” I say, running around to place myself between Enzo and Harrison.

  “Get out of the way, Siena,” Enzo tells me, “This asshole has made a mockery out of you. Out of all of us.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I tell my brother, “You’re going to hear Harrison out.”

  “Like hell,” Enzo scoffs.

  “I wanted to come talk to you, and your father, and your whole team,” Harrison barrels on, “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am that this has gotten so messy. I wanted to tell you how much I care about Siena.”

  “The only thing you care about your own publicity,” Enzo shoots back.

  “I know I can’t make you believe me. Words don’t mean anything to men of action like ourselves,” Harrison says, laying a hand on my arm, “But things are going to be different now, Enzo. Believe me. The world knows about me and Siena now. We can stop sneaking around. We can be a real couple.”

  “Over my dead body,” Enzo replies.

  “It’s not your decision, whether I stay with Harrison or not,” I tell my brother, “It’s mine. This team doesn’t own me. You don’t own me, Enzo.”

  “I’m just trying to look out for you,” my brother cries, “I’m trying to keep you away from this son of a bitch. Why can’t you open your eyes and see that? You’re so blinded by whatever bullshit he’s been—”

  “If you let me, I can convince you that I’m worth your sister’s time,” Harrison insists. “I don’t mean you any harm, Enzo. I know there’s bad blood between us, but I want to make it right. I want to prove to you that I’m a decent guy. Really.”

  “And how do you propose to do that?” Enzo scoffs.

  “First of all, by showing you that I really do have your best interests at heart, too. I want you to be happy, your whole family, because I want you
to know that I think of you as my own. So I thought I might bring you a little bit of company that you might have been missing,” Harrison says, looking back at his car and nodding.

  The rest of us stare at the vehicle as the passenger door swings open. Out into the moonlight steps a familiar, statuesque beauty. The world wobbles around me as Shelby takes a tentative step toward us, smiling bashfully.

  “Shelby?” Enzo says, jaw falling open.

  “Hi Enzo,” the British knockout replies, “Hope you don’t mind me surprising you—”

  Her words are cut off as Enzo closes the space between them, taking her up into his arms. I raise my eyebrows at the display. I always had my brother pegged for the womanizing, serial dater type. What’s with all these F1 bad boys going all lovey-dovey all of a sudden? There must be something in the water.

  “Too soon, ” I say, cocking an eyebrow at Harrison.

  “Shelby and I wanted to come here together, to explain to you both what’s happened in the past. Strictly the past,” Harrison says, “We want to make amends, across the board. To come at this problem and fix it once and for all. To figure out who the hell is trying to take us down and to stop this bullshit before it can spread any further. What do you say, Enzo? Enzo...”

  “I can’t believe you’re here” my brother says, staring dreamily into Shelby’s face.

  “That makes two of us,” Shelby coos, “It feels like a lifetime.”

  “For god’s sake,” I mutter, “Pull it together, people.”

  “That picture in the paper this morning, of Shelby and I kissing, it wasn’t a fake,” Harrison says, “But it’s ancient. You have to believe that.”

  “I never even gave a bloody damn for Harrison. Not really,” Shelby tells Enzo, “I just figured I might as well marry rich if I couldn’t find someone to love. But now...”

  “You can do both?” I mutter.

  Shelby looks at me sharply, taking a deep breath. She wiggles out of Enzo’s arms and crosses the lawn toward me, taking my hands in hers.

  “I know that I’ve been rude to you,” Shelby says, bending down just slightly to meet my eye level, “I know that I haven’t given you any reason to like me. But Harrison told me that you suspect me of being behind this craziness, and I need you to know that it’s not true. I would never do something like this. Harrison is my dear friend. And your brother...well. He’s becoming something a bit more—”

  “If you aren’t behind this, what was your picture doing on the front page of the paper this morning? Who else could be the source who leaked Harrison’s email?”

  “It’s called the internet, Siena,” Shelby laughs, “Anything that’s on the Web is fair game to a good enough hacker. Hell, that picture was right on Twitter for the world to see. And Harrison’s not exactly a genius at protecting himself online.”

  “Guilty,” Harrison shrugs.

  “I know you’re probably still put off by the fact that I’ve been cold to you,” Shelby goes on, “But Siena, can you blame me for being a little jealous of you?”

  “Jealous? Of me?” I sputter, “Why the hell—”

  “I’ve been working for Team McClain for six years,” Shelby presses, “And after all this time, I’ve never been given more to do than run the Facebook page. But you...you’re already head and shoulders above most women in this sport. You could really do something here, become someone important. So yeah, I’ve been a little jealous of you, but I don’t want to keep this weird tension between us stoked. I want to be your friend.”

  “I don’t know,” I tell her, “I choose my friends pretty carefully.”

  “Then I’ll just have to keep trying to convince you,” she says, smiling gamely.

  “I hope you know that’s not going to work on me, Davies,” Enzo says, crossing his arms, “You’re not going to win me over into thinking you’re some great guy who deserves to be with my sister.”

  “And why not?” Harrison asks.

  “Because I know an entitled asshole when I see one,” Enzo shoots back.

  “Takes one to know one, I guess?” Harrison grins.

  “Stop it!” I cry, as Enzo lunges for Harrison once again. Gus and Charlie hold my brother back, but this time I can’t even blame him fully.

  “You can’t make this a one way street,” I tell Harrison, “If you really want to be a part of my life, you need to play ball with Enzo. Can you do that? Can either of you actually put your baggage aside and try to get along?”

  Harrison and Enzo stare at each other across the lawn, immovable and silent. I shake my head at the pair of them and turn to survey the rest of the group. My parents watch us from the steps of our home, Bex waits for Charlie, and the four of us doomed lovers stare at each other, at an impasse. It’s time for someone to step up and take charge.

  “OK,” I begin, “Here’s what’s going to happen now. We’ve been hiding away from the press and dodging questions for too long now. We need to make an appearance, all of us, and get control of our story back.”

  “You mean we should have, like, a press conference?” Shelby asks,

  “Exactly,” I tell her, “Right here on the front steps. We’ll invite the press in and tell them our stories. Our real stories. Before any more conjectures can crop up in the tabloids.”

  “You want me to stand up here and pretend I’m OK with the asshole having shown up?” Enzo demands nodding toward Harrison.

  “Yes, I’d prefer that you actually be OK with the guy I love,” I tell him frankly, “But pretending will do for now. We just need to make our voices heard.”

  “Are you suggesting that we address all the rumors about us?” My mom asks, holding onto my father’s arm.

  A ragged cough rips out of Dad’s throat. Without having received any treatment, he really is getting worse by the day. I go to him, taking his hand in mine.

  “You have to tell the world, Dad,” I whisper, “You’ve been playing it tough for too long. Let us take care of you. Let the world take care of you, and keep you in their prayers.”

  “Can’t we just focus on you kids?” he asks, sounding alarmed and downright scared.

  “I know it’s the last thing you want to do,” I tell him, “But wouldn’t you rather the truth come from you, rather than some tabloid? You deserve to own your own story, Dad.”

  “And what are we hoping to accomplish with this little meeting?” Charlie asks, crossing his arms.

  “We’re going to present a united front,” I tell him, “Enzo and Harrison are going to show the world that they’re not rivals, they’re not out to kill or hurt each other. They’re just two drivers trying to do their best for their fans and their families. Those guys, I’d root for.”

  “I guess it doesn’t matter to you that we’re not united in the least?” Enzo scoffs.

  “Nope,” I tell him, “You’d be surprised how much that doesn’t really matter. If you’re going to be a child about this—”

  “Watch it,” my brother tells me, “I’ll go along with this nonsense for the sake of our team and our family, but you’d all better know that it’s total bullshit on my part.”

  My brother turns back toward Harrison, his eyes cold and merciless. “I’ll play my role at this press conference, Davies, because I want all this drama to be behind us. But don’t think for one minute that I’ve actually accepted you as a member of my family. You and me? We’ll never be OK. I can’t stop you and Siena from being together, but I never have to like it. And I never have to like you. Are we clear on that?”

  “Crystal, mate,” Harrison says simply. “But no matter how many times you tell me that it’s hopeless, I’m still going to try and prove to you, your family, and most of all to Siena that I’m a good man. I only know how to be good to your sister. And I’m going to keep trying to get you to see that.”

  “Good luck with that,” Enzo laughs, “Now if you’ll all excuse me, I’d like to be off to bed.” He extends a hand to Shelby, who looks tentatively toward my parents for approval.
/>
  “Oh, go on,” Mom says, “We may as well be good and rested for this conference. I’m assuming we’re doing it tomorrow?”

  “Bright and early,” I tell her, “I’ll set everything up. All the rest of you have to do is show up on these steps looking calm and collected. Let me do the rest.”

  Enzo shrugs and sets off into the house, towing Shelby behind him. Most of the team follows in their wake, happy to be released from the tense gathering outside. Gus leads Charlie and Bex back to the kitchen for a night cap. Finally, the only people left outside are me, Harrison, and my parents.

  My mother, ever the social gymnast, tugs my father forward a step, smiling broadly toward Harrison.

  “Mr. Davies,” she smiles, “It’s so nice to meet you in person at last.”

  “You can call me Harrison, Ma’am,” my love replies, stepping forward to take my mother’s hand.

  “And you can call me Camilla. I don’t know who this ‘Ma’am’ person is,” she responds.

  We all look anxiously at my father, who stares blankly at Harrison. I hold my breath as the men size each other up. I feel, ridiculously, like I’m back in high school, bringing my prom date home to meet my parents. Of course, I never ever went to my prom. Couldn’t be bothered. Maybe I’m just making up for lost time now?

  “Mr. Lazio,” Harrison says, finally breaking the silence, “It’s an honor to finally meet you. I hope you know how much I respect you as a driver and a man.”

  “Davies,” my dad says gruffly. I can tell that he’s trying to fall into the role of the wise, protective father, even in his vulnerable condition. I hope he knows that he’ll always be my strong, respected, fair father, no matter how sick he gets.

  “I knew your father, back when he was racing,” my dad goes on.

  “Hell of a man to get along with,” Harrison says, sadness sweeping through his eyes.

  “But a good driver,” Dad says, “He could have been great. Would have been. But sometimes things happen to us that are beyond our control, isn’t that right?”

  “That’s right, sir,” Harrison says.