Redeemed (Dirty Air #4)(55)



“And what made you pick that?”

“She thought it would help for me to stab something. The needle seemed like a safe option.”

Santiago’s laugh bounces off the roof of the car. “I would’ve never guessed you had this much pent-up aggression.”

“I was pretty mad at the world as a teenager.”

His smile drops. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It is what is.”

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make everything seem like it’s okay?”

I shrug. “Because it is. I can’t do anything to change the past, so why continue to let it bother me?”

He nods and focuses his attention back on the road. The lakeside town disappears as we drive through the winding roads toward Monza.

“Are you any good at it?” He breaks the silence.

“Embroidering?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not one to show off, but I’m wearing one of the pieces I made now.” I point down at my embroidered T-shirt. It’s a basic pocket tee, with a bunch of multicolored dainty flowers designed above the pocket. It was a total nightmare to design, but I love it all the more because of how hard it was to make.

“Wow. I thought you bought that.”

I shake my head, hiding my smile. “No. I like designing pieces like this.”

“Have you ever thought of selling them to the public?”

I snort. “Not really. I’ve never had the time or money to start my own Etsy shop.”

“Would you be interested? If you had time, that is?”

I pause and consider it. Thinking up designs feeds the creative side I’ve neglected throughout the years while overworking myself. I love the thrill I get when drawing out my creations on the fabric and bringing them to life. The peace from the process and the sense of accomplishment once the piece is done is another bonus.

I love it all. From beginning to end.

“I mean, in a perfect world where I had limitless money and didn’t have to work as much, sure. But the world is far from flawless, so I’ll stick to the things I know will support me.”

“You should consider making more time for your hobby.”

“Why?”

“Because if you love something enough to smile like you are right now, then you should pursue it before it’s too late.”

I press a hand to my lips. “I don’t have the time.”

“And you never will if you keep finding reasons not to.”

Whoa. Here I’ve been pushing Santiago out of his comfort zone, only to have him do the same. Santiago is embroidering himself into my skin like the designs I love so much, and I’m not exactly sure what I’m going to do about it.





25





Santiago





I regret agreeing to visit my family at the Monza track. It takes everything in me to step out of my car after the road trip from Lake Como. The valet workers don’t leave me with much of a choice as they take over, grabbing our luggage from the back. I pull my cap low on my face as I take a deep breath of the fresh air.

Chloe exits the car with a huge grin plastered on her face, staring up at our hotel with wonder. “Oh my God. Look at this place! It’s even cooler than your house, and you live in a castle!”

I never noticed the details of this older hotel when I stayed here with the Bandini team. Looking at it with Chloe goggles, I appreciate the architecture and classic design.

She blinks up at the building. “Wow. It reminds me of the Biltmore Estate.”

“The what?”

She lets out a sigh. “Oh, forget it. Sometimes I forget you’re not from America.”

I open my mouth to respond, but something catches my eyes. A bystander pulls out their phone and snaps a picture of us. I’m tempted to call them out on their lack of privacy, but Chloe pulls me out of my thoughts.

“Do you think it’s haunted?” She pokes my chest.

I release a shaky breath, ignoring the interested onlookers. “No. At least I hope it isn’t. We better check in before a mob starts forming.”

Chloe scans the entryway, her eyes stopping on the fans who’ve gathered near the lobby. “You know, there’s one thing learning you’re famous, but then there’s a whole other thing experiencing it firsthand.”

“This is nothing,” I mumble as I direct her toward the concierge desk.

“They’re taking video of you! That’s so creepy.”

I’m thankful for the jeans covering my leg. Nothing about my fans’ scrutiny makes me feel good, but I can’t do anything about it while we are out in the open. “Ignore it. You’ll get used to them by the end of the weekend.”

“I don’t know if that’s something I want to get used to in the first place.” She purses her lips.

The employee checks us in, her gaze focused on me. She drops our key card twice before I reach over and pluck it from her trembling hands with a thank you.

My skin itches as people’s stares heat the back of my neck. “Let’s go,” I grunt, stealing Chloe’s attention away from a fancy painting she was ogling. With fidgety hands, I grab onto our luggage and lead the way toward the elevator.

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