Chapter 79

Chapter 79
Blaze
“So now you’re finally showing up?” I say the moment Carlo walks in.
He shuts the door behind him, slowly, like he’s already exhausted. His coat still on, hair slightly damp from the rain outside, he looks at me like he expected the welcome but hoped for something else.
“Blaze—”
“Don’t. Just fucking don’t.” I push myself off the armrest I’ve been perched on for the past hour, waiting. “One week. One whole fucking week, Carlo. I called. Texted. Your damn phone rang, you just didn’t pick up. What the hell is that?”
He exhales, head tilting back briefly like he’s biting back whatever it is he really wants to say. “I’ve been busy.”
“Bullshit,” I snap. “You don’t get to disappear and show up acting like it’s just another day. I’ve been here losing my fucking mind.”
Carlo’s jaw tenses. His eyes flash and then he suddenly yells, voice sharp and loud, “Can you just shut the fuck up for one second and let me breathe?”
I freeze. The room goes dead silent.
I’ve seen Carlo angry before. I’ve seen him cold, I’ve seen him controlling. But I’ve never heard him yell at me like that. Not once.
“Wow,” I whisper.
He instantly looks like he regrets it. Runs a hand down his face and mutters, “Fuck. Blaze… I didn’t mean to yell. I’m sorry. I just… it’s a lot right now. Everything’s just too fucking much.”
I stay quiet. My heart’s still racing. My pride wants to push back harder, but another part of me—the part that’s already tired of fighting—just wants to understand what the hell is going on with him.
He steps closer. I don’t back away, but I don’t reach for him either.
“I should’ve called,” he says, softly now. “I know that. I just… couldn’t. And I didn’t want to lie to you or make promises I can’t keep.”
“What promises?”
“Just… stuff I can’t talk about right now.”
Of course. More secrets. More closed doors. I’ve gotten used to it, but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.
Still, when he reaches for me and pulls me into a hug, I let him. Because this is Carlo, and for all his flaws, he’s still the only person who’s ever made me feel like I mattered.
His arms wrap tight around me, his chin resting on my shoulder like he’s been holding this breath for days. His warmth seeps into my skin. And just like that, I hate how easily I forgive him.
He kisses my neck. Softly. Slowly. I feel it in my chest, how badly I’ve missed him.
“I’m doing it,” I say, voice muffled against his shirt.
He pulls back a little. “Doing what?”
“The race. I’m making a comeback.”
Carlo stiffens.
I step back fully now, so I can see his face. “I’ve been thinking about it for months. I can’t just keep rotting away in this mansion. I’ve been training since the surgery. I’m not the same guy who lost control four years ago.”
He doesn’t say anything right away. His eyes search mine like he’s trying to decide if I’m serious or just talking shit.
“What race?”
“Route 419.”
His expression drops. Like actually fucking drops.
“Blaze,” he says, and the way he says it sounds more like a warning than my name.
“I know what you’re thinking. But I can handle it this time. I’ve been watching replays. I’ve done simulations. I’ve been on the damn road every day with trainers. I’m ready.”
“That fucking race took everything from you.”
“No, Carlo. That crash did. And I’m done letting fear own me. I’ve sat out for four years. I can’t sit any longer. I need this.”
He sighs, looking away like he’s trying not to say what’s really on his mind. His hand runs through his hair, and I can tell he’s struggling. Maybe part of him wants to be supportive. But the other part? The protective part? That one looks like it’s ready to chain me to a wall to stop me from doing this.
“Say something,” I say.
He finally looks at me. His eyes are a little softer now. “When’s the race?”
I shake my head. “It’s the next season, I told Alexi to add me to the list, we are riding as a team.”
He nods, once. Then again. Slow, like he’s forcing himself to accept it.
“Alright,” he says.
That’s it.
I blink. “Alright?”
“If this is what you want, I’m not gonna stand in your way. Just don’t expect me to sit back quietly either. I’m gonna be on your ass through every single training day. No shortcuts. No dumb risks. You pull anything reckless, I’m dragging you off the track myself.”
I laugh. And god, it feels good to laugh. It’s been too damn long.
“Deal,” I say.
He grins. A real one this time. Then he walks toward me again, slower. His hands go to my waist, and before I know it, he’s kissing me. Deep. Warm. Like he’s trying to memorize the shape of my mouth.
I melt into it. My arms around his neck, my fingers sliding through the back of his hair. It’s the kind of kiss that makes time stretch.
Then he pulls away just enough to whisper, “Come upstairs with me.”
I nod. I don’t need convincing.
He scoops me into his arms, just like that. And carries me up the stairs like I weigh nothing. His mouth never leaving mine for long.
By the time we reach the room, he’s still kissing me—slow and hot and heavy like he’s tasting every inch of me. I’m breathless. And confused. He’s usually not this slow. Not this… delicate.
His lips trail down my jaw. My chest is heaving, and I can’t help but ask, “Why are you being so slow, huh? You trying to ravage me gently now?”
He pauses. Smiles against my skin.
“Maybe,” he says. “Maybe I just missed you too fucking much.”
I close my eyes. Let myself feel it.
Because whatever’s going on behind the scenes, whatever he’s not telling me—I know one thing for sure:
He loves me.
And right now, that’s enough.