MAX

We pull into the circular driveway of a massive condo building in Miami's downtown. It's all sleek glass and concrete.

"This is where you live?" I don't mean to sound incredulous, but it seems so unlike Lily. I'd always taken her for a stand-alone home, something smaller and cozy, filled with books. This is cold and severe. Not terrible, and I'm sure it's luxurious, but different than I would've imagined.

"Yes. I'm renting for now." Her brow furrows. "You can stay here while I pack."

I stare at her. "In the car?"

"Yeah. Or go get lunch or something."

We lock gazes. There's so much pain in her eyes, all I want is to hold her. It's remarkable how all the tender feelings I had for her are back with a vengeance. I wish she'd invite me inside, because I'm dying to see her place.

"Okay," I say.

She lets out a sigh. "Uh, if you want, come up and hang out in my living room. You can watch TV or whatever."

"That sounds great," I say quickly, hoping she doesn't change her mind.

The valet takes the keys and we troop into the lobby and the elevator, flanked by bodyguards. From the looks Lily is giving the two guys, I can tell she's uncomfortable about having strangers in her house.

She unlocks the door. "Sorry for the mess. I left in a hurry yesterday."

She looks at the bodyguards. "Aren't you coming in?"

"We'll wait out here," one says.

"Don't you want water, or coffee?" She smiles at them. "Cookies?"

They shake their heads and she nods. "I'll make this quick."

The colossal, gleaming windows with the ocean view gives the living room an airy sense of freedom. Tall potted plants are nestled in sleek pots, their deep green leaves popping against the white walls like wide green wings. The living room is light and open, like the Miami breeze. "Wow. I didn't expect any of this."

"Any of what?" She tosses her purse on a tan leather sofa that's angled toward the windows. A fuzzy gold throw blanket is bunched in one corner of the couch.

I lift my shoulders. Considering I keep an apartment in Monaco — but didn't pick out any of the decor inside — and stay with my parents often, this place seems like a home for someone who has their shit together, which Lily obviously does.

"I don't remember you liking plants this much."

She frowns, and I follow up with, "It's nice, really beautiful. Did you use a designer?"

"No. I did everything myself. I wanted it to look a certain way. Tropical, but warm. A lot of these condos can come off too sterile. I'm a plant person now, that's kind of my hobby. Anyway, make yourself at home, the kitchen's over there, the remote's on the table if you want to watch TV. I'm going to pack." She presses the heels of her hands to her forehead. "How long am I going to be gone?"

She wanders down a hall and I follow. "Well, there's Austin, so you should definitely think about the heat. Then we're going to Montreal and New York. I can look at the forecast if you'd like."

"No, I'll just pack everything."

I spy a couple of nearly empty bedrooms, with only modern beds and white linens. She stops outside of a closed door. "Why don't you hang out in the living room? And eat whatever you want since I'm not going to be here for a while. Dammit, I'll have to get someone in here to clean out the fridge. Maybe Mom can do it, though."

She's muttering to herself as she opens, then closes, the bedroom door. Funny, in all the times we slept together, I never saw the bedroom of where she lived. Back then she'd just graduated from college and technically still lived with her parents. And we were always traveling from race to race, and our time in bed was always in a hotel.

"Okay," I say to the closed door, wandering back down the hall. I wander around the vast living room for a while, checking out her art (it looks like graphic mid-century stuff to me, abstract concepts that I don't understand but she probably does) and her books (a wide range of genres, heavy on the romance). The large bookcase is impressive, and that's one thing that obviously hasn't changed. She's always loved to read.

I spot something on the shelf and lean in. Wedged in between two hardcover books is an insert, a tiny diorama of a library complete with bookshelves, lamps, and a small cat. I grin and bite my lip. I'd given this to her back when we were together. It's a handmade wooden nook that lights up, crafted by an artist in my German hometown. The fact that she still has it makes my heart slam against my chest, for some reason.

The sight of it reminds me of the night I gave it to her. It was her twenty-fifth birthday. I was twenty-two at the time and wanted to impress the hell out of her. I figured a gift like this would prove how well I knew her, how well I'd listened to her soul.

She'd loved it. Got teary when she saw it. Threw her arms around me and kissed me for what seemed like an entire, delicious hour. That night, I could see my lifetime unfolding. I'd become a champion in the sport, Lily would be my wife, and eventually, we'd have kids and a beautiful life.

A few weeks after her birthday, she broke up with me, saying that we wanted different things out of life.

She didn't want Formula World, and I did.

And now here we are, back together again. Just not in the way I thought we'd be by this time in life. This was supposed to be the baby-making stage, by my old estimation. I smile at the little diorama. It's a bitter reminder of a perfect life that I once wanted, one that slipped right through my hands.

"Max!"

Lily's voice soars through the condo. I wander into the hall in time to see her poke her face out of her bedroom door.

"There are cookies in the fridge. They'll go to waste if someone doesn't eat them."

"You don't have to tell me twice." I head into the kitchen, hoping to push all the old memories of us into the corners of my brain. Cookies will help.

I ate a huge breakfast this morning at the hotel, but I'm still starving. The day after a race I'm always a bit off, dehydrated and hungry. I peek in her fridge and see a plate of cookies wrapped in plastic. Grabbing those and the lone carton of milk, I make my way over to the sofa.

The cookies are incredible. I take a guzzle from the milk carton, chiding myself for not getting a glass. Where are my manners? I shove a second cookie into my mouth, wondering if I should get a glass. Just one more sip —

"Max? Do you think I'll need..."

Lily's standing there, staring at me. I swallow and wipe my mouth. "Sorry, I didn't find the glasses. I'm an animal for drinking out of the carton."

She snorts a little laugh. "Don't worry. It's going to be tossed anyway. I can see you haven't changed. Still starving the day after races?"

I pick up a third cookie. "Ja. Hey, who made these cookies? They're amazing."

"I did. I made them while watching the race yesterday."

"Really?" I say through a mouthful. When did she become such a good baker? Back when we were together, I don't think she even knew how to boil water. I'm dying to ask her why she didn't go to the race, but since my mouth is full of cookie and she's already probably disgusted by me, I just keep chewing.

She screws up her pretty face. "You're such a... guy."

"Sorry, they're just so good. Don't tell my trainer. Can't believe you made these. You never used to bake—"

"I'm a different person, Max."

"I can see that." I swallow and smile.

"Listen. I've decided I'm going to pack light and buy anything I need while on the road. But what are the formal events in Austin like? Since that's a newer race, I haven't been. What did Dad go to last year? I don't remember him talking about anything."

"Umm." I lick my lips, wishing I'd grabbed a napkin. "Last year there was a thing involving cowboy boots and hats. So bring those if you have them."

She huffs off, muttering something about how she hates hats. If I recall correctly that pre-race party last year was the one where two American football cheerleaders wanted to have a threesome with me.

There was a time, post-Lily breakup, that I would've taken them up on it. But that was the old me, and I stopped being that guy a couple of years ago.

I was tired of being judged and tired of the people I was attracting. I've been a good boy for a while now and hope to keep it up.

I jam another cookie in my mouth and ponder if any of this is even going to matter. I'm not getting back together with Lily and she probably resents me for my playboy reputation. Pining over her isn't going to make her want me again.

If she wasn't the acting team owner, though... I finish the rest of the cookie.

If Lily wasn't acting team owner, I'd definitely make a move on her and tell her everything I'm feeling right now. Maybe explain how important she was to the trajectory of my life. How I screwed up by not fighting for her. It's my biggest regret, more than any failed race or career decision.

But maybe it's better if we don't get into all that right now. She already seems distressed enough by the idea of taking the place of her father. It's not going to be easy as a woman in charge of a racing team. She doesn't need me mucking things up for her and causing any further controversy or scandal. God knows I've done enough of that in my career.

As much as Lily brings out emotions in me that no other woman has, it's probably best if we keep this strictly professional.

___

Thank you all for reading BURN! Have you checked out the other two books in the series, DRIVE and CRASH? Let me know in the comments! xo