Pit Lane Persephone

Chapter 24: Seb

"Is this your car?" Lauren stops behind the silver Maserati when it automatically unlocks on our approach.

After walking past her, I pop the trunk. "Yes, unless I take someone else's keys by mistake this morning," I say, putting her bags next to mine.

When I look back, her smile gets even bigger than it already was. It's good she is a fan of my stupid jokes. "Can I drive?" she asks.

I should have seen that coming. "Not even all Italians can handle the traffic in Roma," I say, internally cringing at the thought of my practically-just-out-of-the-salon Alfieri getting as much as a scratch, while I go to open the car door for her.

She pouts a little—it's one of my favorite expressions from her—but silently follows, the soft fabric of her army green dress bouncing around her thighs. If that wasn't enough of a 'get a good look at what you can't have' middle finger from the universe, she has to squeeze past me to slide into the passenger seat thanks to the Opel parked on the line next to me. I swear to god she's doing it more deliberately than she has to, pressing her body against mine for a quick second while adjusting the ridiculously large, wool scarf around her neck.

Damn, she's pretty. Lauren really is a unicorn in a paddock full of stallions. The mental image makes me smile, and noticing, she pauses with one foot in the car.

"What?" she asks with a suspicious look.

I want to scoop her up in my arms so bad, but with my luck, Nicola would probably pop out from between two sedans and clock me with her mobile or something.

Pressing my lips together, I shake my head. "Nothing."

She shrugs and slips into the seat before swinging her long, tan legs—wrapped in high boots—inside. Only her bare knees are visible between the fabric and the leather.

"You can close the door now if you'd like," she says with a giggle.

Shit. Have I been staring?

Shutting the door, I walk around the back to the driver's side and adjust myself when I'm out view. Every. Damn. Time.

"So what did you want to talk about?" she asks when I get behind the wheel.

"Nothing. Everything. It was more to spend time with you. Is that okay?" I respond while starting the car.

"Oh, of course it is. But I thought maybe you also wanted to talk about yesterday," she says as the four hundred fifty horsepower engine roars to life.

Yesterday? Does she think we made a mistake by fooling around in those tunnels? Is there a need for us to talk to figure out how to get past it without things getting weird? I was just going to let things play out naturally—or however Lauren wanted—but if she thinks there is a need to talk . . ..

"Yesterday was nice," I say, easing into the conversation as I glance into the rear view mirror before looking back at her. She can take it from here, whichever way this is going to go.

Lauren wets her lips with the tip of her tongue and looks down at my mouth. "Yesterday was nice," she repeats quietly.

My hand freezes on the wheel. I don't think she regrets letting me kiss her. I think she may want to do it again. Well, I mean as long as there's no one around . . .. I lean in slowly, and Lauren starts to meet me half way. My heart is thumping in my ear, and there's only a small gap between us when another car pulls into the spot in front of me.