Chapter 7: Access

I almost didn’t go.

I stood in front of my closet for twenty minutes, staring at clothes I suddenly hated, replaying his last message in my head.

Wear something you don’t mind me looking at.

The arrogance of it made my jaw tighten. I pulled on black jeans and a simple dark top that covered more than it revealed, then stared at myself in the mirror like I was preparing for a fight instead of a conversation. My hair was still slightly damp from the shower. I left it down. I told myself it didn’t matter what I looked like. He already knew too much.

At 7:52 I sat in my car outside his house with the engine off, hands gripping the steering wheel. The modern glass-and-steel structure looked even more imposing at night, lights glowing softly behind the tall windows. I could still leave. I could drive away and deal with the consequences tomorrow.

My phone buzzed.

Rex: You’re sitting outside. Come in.

I hated that he knew.

I got out of the car before I could talk myself out of it.

Rex opened the door before I knocked. He had changed out of the race suit into dark jeans and a black long-sleeve shirt pushed up to his elbows. His hair was still slightly damp, like he had showered recently. He looked unfairly relaxed for someone who held my biggest secret in his hands.

His eyes moved over me once, slow and deliberate.

“You ignored the last part of my message,” he said.

“I followed the important part. I’m here.”

He stepped aside to let me in. The house smelled faintly like clean soap and something warmer, maybe whatever he had cooked earlier. I kept my arms crossed as I followed him into the open living area. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed the city lights stretching out below.

Rex didn’t offer me a drink this time. He just leaned against the back of the couch and watched me.

“We need to talk about access,” he said.

I frowned. “Access to what?”

“The team. Your work.” He tilted his head slightly. “You need better clearance if you want the kind of shots that actually move your career forward. Right now you’re still treated like a guest with a camera.”

I stiffened. “I can handle my own career.”

“I’m not saying you can’t. I’m saying I can make it easier.” His voice stayed even. “I can get you into the restricted areas during practice. Closer to the cars. Closer to the strategy meetings if you want context shots. The kind of access most photographers wait years for.”

The offer landed harder than I expected. I had been chasing exactly that kind of proximity for months. Official team photographers got the angles I could only dream about. Independent freelancers like me were always kept at a careful distance.

“And the catch?” I asked.

Rex’s mouth curved slightly. “You already know the catch. The deal doesn’t stop at public behavior. If I’m giving you access, you’re going to be around me more. A lot more. No disappearing the second practice ends. No treating me like a contagious disease when the cameras are off.”

“That’s not a professional arrangement. That’s control.”

“Call it whatever you want.” He pushed off the couch and walked closer, stopping a few feet away. “I’m offering you something useful. In exchange, you stop fighting the inevitable. You’re already living with the secret. You might as well get something out of it.”

I hated how practical he made it sound. I hated even more that part of me was already calculating how much further my portfolio could go with real team access.

“What exactly does ‘around you more’ mean?”

“It means when I’m in the garage, you’re not hiding on the opposite side. It means if I tell you to be somewhere at a certain time for a specific shot, you show up. It means you stop acting like proximity to me is a punishment.” His eyes held mine. “And it means we stop pretending the air doesn’t change every time we’re in the same room.”

My pulse kicked harder. “You’re asking for a lot.”

“I’m offering a lot.” He took another step closer. “Your call, Aria. You can keep scraping for leftover angles from the sidelines, or you can take what I’m giving you and deal with the fact that I’m going to be in your space.”

The silence stretched between us. Outside the windows the city lights blurred slightly. I could feel the weight of the decision settling on my shoulders. Refusing meant staying stuck. Accepting meant handing him even more ways to get under my skin.

“Fine,” I said finally. My voice came out quieter than I wanted. “Limited access. For work only.”

Rex studied me for a long moment, like he was measuring how much of the truth I was still holding back.

“We’ll start tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll speak to the team manager in the morning. You’ll get a temporary clearance pass. Don’t make me regret it.”

“I won’t make you anything.”

He almost smiled. “We’ll see.”

I turned toward the door, ready to leave before the conversation could slide into something more dangerous. His voice stopped me.

“One more thing.”

I looked back.

Rex’s expression had shifted into something quieter, more serious. “Ethan is going to notice if you’re suddenly around the team more. When he asks, the story is that I recommended you for additional coverage because the media team is short-staffed. Keep it simple. Don’t overexplain.”

“I know how to lie to my brother,” I said. The words tasted bitter.

“I know you do.” His gaze dropped briefly to my mouth, then returned to my eyes. “That’s part of the problem.”

The air in the room felt heavier. I became very aware of the space between us, of how easy it would be for him to close it, of how part of me was still waiting to see if he would.

I didn’t give him the chance.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, and walked out before he could reply.

The night air hit my face like a reset button that didn’t fully work. I drove home with the radio off, replaying every word, already dreading how much closer tomorrow would force us to be.

I barely slept.

The next morning at the circuit felt different from the moment I arrived. A team liaison was waiting near the entrance with a temporary credentials badge and a polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She explained the new clearance zones in a practiced voice, then handed me a schedule that already had my name listed next to several of Rex’s practice windows.

He had moved fast.

I found him in the garage, standing beside his car while an engineer adjusted something on the front wing. He looked up the second I approached, as if he had been waiting for the moment.

“You came,” he said.

“You didn’t leave me much choice.”

“There’s always a choice.” He nodded toward the car. “Stay on this side during the next run. I want shots from the pit wall angle when I come in. Close enough to catch the heat coming off the brakes.”

It was a professional request on the surface. Underneath it was another test.

I lifted my camera and took my place where he indicated. The proximity was immediate. I could hear the low voices of the crew, smell the rubber and fuel, feel the heat radiating from the car. Rex climbed into the cockpit with the same focused ease he always had, but before the helmet went on he glanced at me one more time.

The look lasted only a second.

It was enough to make my fingers tighten around the camera.

The practice session blurred into noise and motion. I shot continuously, forcing myself to focus on composition and light instead of the man inside the car. When he finally rolled back into the pits, the air around the vehicle shimmered with heat. I kept shooting as he climbed out, helmet coming off, dark hair damp against his forehead.

He walked straight toward me instead of the engineers.

“Get what you needed?” he asked, voice slightly rough from the radio.

“Enough.”

“Good.” He took a step closer, lowering his voice so the crew wouldn’t hear. “You’re staying for the debrief. Stand near the back. Listen. Take whatever context shots you want. And Aria…”

I waited, pulse already uneven.

“Don’t look away every time I look at you,” he said. “That was part of yesterday’s problem. We’re fixing it.”

Then he turned and joined the engineers like the conversation had been purely about work.

I stood there with the camera still raised, the new badge hanging around my neck, and the clear understanding that the access he had given me was already costing more than I had calculated.

My phone buzzed a few minutes later while I was reviewing the shots.

Rex: Dinner again tonight.

Rex: We need to talk about how this is going to work long term.

Rex: And this time you don’t get to run out the door.