[Nick’s POV]
Sotis, Rock Bottom has a comfy mattress and complintary slippers. I’m sprawled across my hotel bed in Shanghai, staring at water stains on the ceiling that look vaguely like China, the country where my relationship died and was buried in the sa weekend.
The Shanghai skyline glitters through floor-to-ceiling windows, all neon promise and sleek ambition. It should be beautiful, but all I can think is how I’m eighteen floors up and the windows don’t open. Not that I’d jump.
My phone feels heavy in my hand as I scroll through my contacts. There’s really only one person to call when your world collapses, even if that person is a continent away and has always been better than you at everything.
I tap lissa’s na and wait, each ring stretching into eternity.
“Nick? Hey.” My sister’s voice fills the room, tinny through the speaker but achingly familiar.
“Hey, lissa,” I reply, surprised by how steady I sound for soone who’s been crying on and off for hours.
There’s a pause, the silence carrying years of complicated history between us. Despite being a really hard sister to deal with, since she’s moved to Formula E, she’s not arrogant anymore. A complete shadow of herself. The cutthroat competitor who used to mock my gaming career has been replaced by soone regretful, soone unsure of herself.
“You sound weird,” she says finally. “What’s wrong?”
I swallow hard, fingers picking at a loose thread on the hotel comforter. “Blair dumped . Right before the race today.”
“Oh, Nick.” Her voice softens with genuine concern. “I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, well.” I roll onto my side, watching the city lights blur through unshed tears. “Apparently, I was ‘in the way’ of her brilliant career.”
lissa sighs, and I can almost see her running a hand through her practical brown bob. “That’s such bullshit. You’ve been nothing but supportive.”
Sothing about her imdiate defense of makes my throat tighten. “Thanks.”
A muffled voice speaks in the background on her end. lissa covers the phone, her response indistinct before she returns. “Sorry, that was my engineer. We’re testing tomorrow.”
“How’s Formula E treating you?” I ask, desperate to talk about anything other than my shattered heart.
“Pretty good,” lissa says, her tone brightening slightly. “The competition’s fierce, but I’m hanging in there at second in the championship. Early days, though. Plenty of races left to blow it.”
There’s that self-deprecating humor that’s beco her trademark since moving to the electric series. Before I can respond, three sharp knocks on my hotel room door cut through our conversation.
“Soone’s at my door,” I mutter, pushing myself up from the mattress with effort. My body feels like it’s aged a decade since this morning.
“Want to stay on the line?” lissa asks.
“Nah, it’s probably just hotel staff. I’ll call you back.” I end the call and shuffle toward the door, not bothering to check my reflection in the mirror. Whoever’s knocking can deal with my puffy eyes and disheveled appearance.
I swing the door open without checking the peephole, a mistake I realize imdiately when I find myself face-to-face with Ivy Hunt.
“Jesus Christ!” I stumble backward, nearly tripping over my own feet. “What are you doing here?”
Ivy stands in the hallway, transford from the racing goddess I last saw. Her black and purple hair is pulled into a ssy bun, and she’s wearing gray sweatpants and a loose Zenith team hoodie. She looks younger though the intensity in those purple eyes remains undimd.
“Hello to you too,” she says, pushing past into the room without waiting for an invitation. “Nice place. Smaller than mine.”
I stare at her in disbelief as she casually examines my room, picking up the remote control and tossing it back onto the bed like she’s considering whether to turn on the TV.
“How the hell did you find ?” I ask, my voice cracking slightly. My heart pounds against my ribs as mories of what happened in that trailer flood back.
Ivy turns to face , her purple eyes gleaming with amusent. “Zenith paid for your hotel and plane tickets. It took Bridgette less than ten minutes to figure out you hadn’t left China yet.” She shrugs, dropping onto the edge of my bed like she belongs there. “You’re still on the company di, Nick.”
I cross my arms defensively, keeping my distance. “Look, I already told you, Blair and I aren’t together anymore. It’s over.”
“I know,” she says, her expression softening slightly. “I saw her on the podium. She told .”
An uncomfortable silence stretches between us.
“Congratulations on winning, by the way,” I mutter, not quite eting her eyes. “I heard it was... dominant.”
“It was,” she says simply, not an ounce of false modesty. “I’ve never driven like that before.”
She pats the bed beside her, an invitation I’m not sure I should accept. After a mont’s hesitation, I sit down, leaving enough space between us that we couldn’t touch even if we both reached out.
“Why are you here, Ivy?” I ask, staring at the floor rather than at her. “If you’re worried I’m going to tell anyone about what happened in the trailer…”
“I’m not worried about that,” she interrupts, her voice surprisingly gentle. “I wouldn’t care if you did, actually. No one would believe you, and even if they did it might be awkward to explain how you went from victim to enthusiastic participant.”
My cheeks burn at the mory. “Then what do you want?”
Ivy suddenly slides across the bed toward . Before I can react, her arms wrap around my shoulders, pulling against her with surprising gentleness.
“Be mine, Nick,” she whispers, her breath warm against my ear. “I want you.”
The words hang in the air between us, shocking in their directness. I feel her fingers threading through my hair, her body radiating heat against mine. For a brief, disorienting mont, I’m tempted to surrender to the comfort she’s offering.
Instead, I place my hands on her shoulders and firmly push her away.
“No thanks,” I say, my voice steadier than I expected.
Ivy freezes, her purple eyes widening with genuine confusion. For once, the three-ti world champion looks completely blindsided.
“Why not?” she asks, her voice shifting from confident to uncertain in those two simple words. There’s a note of panic underneath her question like she’s never considered rejection as a possibility.
I stare at her in disbelief. “Are you serious right now? You tried to rape earlier today in that trailer. Fuck you an ‘why not’?”
Her face contorts through several emotions, shock, anger, then sothing that looks almost like sha.
“That’s... that’s not what happened,” she stamrs, running a hand through her ssy bun. “You were into it. You said…”
“I know what I said,” I cut her off. “And yeah, I did end up participating. But how it started? You tackled . You tied up. You tore my clothes off while I was scread for help.” I stand up, needing physical distance between us. “Just because I eventually gave in doesn’t make how it started okay.”
Ivy stands too, her posture suddenly defensive. “You’re making it sound worse than it was.”
“You’re fucking cooked, dude,” I say, incredulous at her attempt to rewrite what happened. “Completely delusional.”
Ivy’s expression shifts, her eyes darting around the room before landing back on . “No, no, it wasn’t like that at all,” she insists, her voice taking on an almost pleading quality. “I was going to rape you purely to fuck up Blair’s race. It wasn’t personal at all.”
I stare at her, processing the insanity of what she just said. A small, disbelieving laugh escapes my lips despite everything.
“That’s your defense? That you were only sexually assaulting to ss with soone else?” I sigh deeply, running my hands through my hair. “Look, I’m going ho, alright? Or maybe I’ll tour with my sister for a while. Just... away from all this.”
Ivy crosses her arms, her head tilting slightly as she studies . “Your sister’s Formula E team doesn’t have enough money to support you if you’re not essential personnel,” she says matter-of-factly. “And do you really want to go live with one of your recently divorced parents?”
My eyes widen, the words hitting with complete surprise. “My parents got a divorce?”
The shock must be written all over my face because Ivy’s expression imdiately softens. “You didn’t know?”
I sink back onto the bed, my legs suddenly unable to support my weight. “When? How do you even know this?”
The room spins around . I leap to my feet, panic clawing its way up my throat. “When did this happen?”
“About six weeks ago,” Ivy says, watching carefully. “I had Bridgette pull your background. It was in the report.”
“Six weeks ago?” I wheeze, my lungs suddenly forgetting how to function properly. “How the fuck didn’t I know about this?”
Ivy’s purple eyes track with sothing almost like concern. “You didn’t check in with your family while following Blair around the world?”
“My dad never tells shit!” I explode, pacing now, hands pulling at my hair. “He’s always threatening to leave, always saying he’s done with my mom’s controlling bullshit. I didn’t think he’d actually follow through this ti! He’s probably traveling the country alone now like he said he always wanted too.”
The truth of it hits like a physical blow. All those unanswered texts, the vague responses when I asked how things were at ho. I’d been so wrapped up in Blair’s world that I’d missed my own family imploding.
“So, what are your options?” Ivy asks, her voice oddly gentle. “Go back and live with your mom, or...” her lips curl into a smile that’s half predatory, half hopeful, “beco mine.”
I sink onto the bed, ntal math spinning through my head. My streaming inco, my savings account, the cost of living literally anywhere that isn’t my parents’ house or under soone else’s thumb. The numbers don’t add up.
“My savings won’t last more than two months tops,” I mutter, more to myself than to Ivy. “Not with rent...”
Sothing snaps inside . I lunge forward, grabbing Ivy by her collar, yanking her close enough that I can see the golden flecks in her purple irises. Her eyes widen in surprise, but she doesn’t pull away.
“I’m not living with my mom again,” I growl, my voice low and desperate. “It’s not happening. You gotta help out.”
For a mont, Ivy just stares at , those purple eyes searching mine. Then her face splits into the most genuine smile I’ve seen from her like I’ve just handed her the world championship on a silver platter.
“Nick Woods,” she says, gently removing my hands from her collar but not letting go of them. “I thought you’d never ask.”
The way she says my na sends an electric current down my spine. It’s possessive, triumphant, and weirdly tender all at once.
“I’m not saying I’ll be your... whatever,” I clarify quickly, pulling my hands from hers. “I just need sowhere to stay until I figure things out.”
Ivy’s smile doesn’t falter. If anything, it grows more confident. “Of course.”
I run my hands through my hair, trying to make sense of this bizarre situation. One minute I’m mourning my relationship, the next I’m negotiating living arrangents with the woman who assaulted this morning.
“What exactly is it you want from , Ivy?” I ask, my voice catching slightly. “Because I need to understand what I’m getting into here.”
She sits beside on the bed again, close enough that I can sll her expensive shampoo.
“I don’t know exactly,” she admits, looking down at her hands. “A lot of things, I guess.” When she raises her gaze to et mine again, there’s an intensity there that makes my breath catch. “But mostly, I want your passion, Nick. What happened between us before my race... it changed everything.”
She reaches out, her fingers hovering just shy of touching my face. “When I was on that track today, I felt unstoppable. Like we’d created so kind of... connection that made better than I’ve ever been.”
“Are you saying our... encounter... is why you won?” I ask, not quite believing what I’m hearing.
“I’m saying it transford ,” she replies, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never driven like that before. Never felt so... complete. You completed .”
I stare at her, my mind racing to process what she’s saying. The most dominant driver in F1 is claiming I sohow gave her supernatural racing abilities through sex. It’s absurd, delusional, and yet, the way she’s looking at with those intense purple eyes makes wonder if she actually believes it.
“So you want to fuck you before your races,” I say bluntly, cutting through all the mystical nonsense.
In one fluid motion, Ivy grabs my wrists and pulls down onto the bed beside her. I land with an ungraceful thump as she leans over , her face inches from mine, those purple-highlighted strands of hair falling around us like a curtain.
“You’re my other half, Nick,” she whispers, her voice trembling with an emotion I’ve never heard from her before. “Without you, I don’t think I can be whole again.”
I sigh, annoyed at how lodramatic this all sounds.
“I want my own hotel rooms when we travel,” I say, trying to establish so boundaries in this bizarre arrangent.
Ivy tilts her head, confusion flickering across her features. “What for?”
“Won’t you need your own anyway?” I counter, trying to sound reasonable.
She laughs, a sound that’s both musical and slightly unhinged. “You think I’ll let you sleep away from ? Nick, you’re coming with everywhere from now on.”
The possessiveness in her voice should terrify . Instead, I find myself weighing options like I’m choosing between takeout nus. Live with my bitchy, judgntal mother who’ll question every life choice I’ve ever made or beco the mystical sex companion to a possibly unhinged Formula 1 champion.
I sigh deeply, thinking how this arrangent, as crazy as it sounds, is still better than returning to my mother’s house.
“Alright,” I concede, the word feeling like I’ve just signed so Faustian bargain.
Ivy’s face lights up with triumph. She leans down and captures my lips in a kiss that feels like surrender and bliss simultaneously. Her mouth is hungry, dominating, claiming as thoroughly as she claid the top step of the podium today.
When she finally pulls back, her purple eyes are glowing with satisfaction. “You won’t regret this,” she promises, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw.
“Sure.”
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