Chapter 20
LAWSON
“God that felt good!”
I push out of my seat and throw my legs over the side of my car. Ripping off my helmet and balaclava, I chuckle as Jace bounds over to me.
“Seriously. I feel like I could walk through fire right now and not get burned.”
“That would be because you’re in a flame resistant suit, mate.”
He rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean, bruv.” He throws an arm around my shoulders. “Didn’t it feel good for you too?”
I choke on my water when the memory of Sydney’s touch pops into my mind and the sound of her breathy moans echo in my ears.
It’s been a week since I had her in my arms, my hand up her dress, her fingers threaded through my hair, and her taste on my lips.
And it’s been one hell of a struggle to think of anything else. Like the start of the season… something I should be focusing on and yet, she’s always there, slipping in and taking over all my thoughts.
When I tried to picture the feel of the wheel in my hands, dainty, soft, pink-tipped fingers would slide over mine.
When I went through the motions of trying on my new suit, images of her coming in and slowly peeling it from my body would have the already tight material become suffocating.
When I looked over the schedule and all the places we would be going to in the next few months, I was also writing down all the places I wanted to take her to at each stop.
Finding my thoughts drifting to her didn’t stop there either.
Sampled a new ice cream flavor down at the grocery shoppe? She would love the chunks of strawberries in every bite. I may or may not have two pints of it in my freezer now.
Woke up to a romantic comedy playing on the telly at three in the morning after crashing on the sofa? A smile found its way to my face because she always quotes it.
Taught Shadow a new trick? I recorded five different videos to make sure it was just right before sending it to her.
Brushing my teeth? I think of how the extra sink in my bathroom would look if her things decorated it.
Folding laundry? My thumb would travel over the little hearts she always stitched into the sleeve when she’d steal my jumpers over the years.
No matter what I did, what I thought, or what distraction I tried to hide behind, every part of me kept coming back to her.
Blinking, I pat my hand against my best friend’s chest. “Yeah, mate. It felt really good.”
He smiles, bobbing his head from side to side. “I can feel it in my bones. That constructor’s cup is ours.”
“Don’t go getting ahead of yourself, bruv. It’s only day one.”
“More like zero point five.”
My eyebrows scrunch together. “What?”
“You know. Like in a book series.” I look at him in confusion and he sighs dramatically. “Let’s say we have a four part book series. First one would obviously be book one, the start of the story. Second would be second. Third would be—”
“Let me guess, third?”
“Exactly. Now, say there was a prequel written. That book would be considered book zero point five in the series because it happens before book one.”
“So you’re saying preseason is like the prequel to the season, which would be like book one.”
He playfully pinches my cheek. “I knew you were more than just good looks.”
I slap his hand away with a scowl and stride into our team’s garage. I’m wiping my towel over my sweaty neck when I hear a wolf whistle and look towards the front of the garage.
Some of the new rookies stand in a group, looking off farther down the pit lane. They glance in my direction every so often and my eyebrows furrow.
Jace is closer to the garage opening from where he’s talking with his race engineer and I watch as he takes interest in the young group as well. He leans around the wall, following their line of sight and his body goes rigid a moment before his head whips in my direction.
I’m striding across the garage immediately and he quickly jumps into my path. “Now, mate—”
“How are we getting along, lads?” I ask the group, walking right by my best friend and ignoring his attempt at intercepting me.
A young scrapper grins over at me while the other two drop their eyes to the ground. He jerks his chin down the lane. “Just enjoying the nice view.”
Like the strongest magnetic force in this universe, my eyes immediately find her. Even if I only saw her just this morning, my mouth still dries up and my heart threatens to burst from my chest just to be close to her.
Her golden waves are thrown up into a high ponytail with pieces down to frame her mesmerizing face. Her tiny, freckle-dusted, button nose scrunches playfully as she talks to whoever is walking by her side.
My eyes trail down her body, taking in the simple pink tank top she’s wearing paired with tight, ripped jeans.
Her mouthwatering figure is on full display.
Pink heels decorate her feet and I’m impressed as she does a little spin when someone behind her calls her name—oh, fuck, her arse looks like my next meal.
There’s a low chuckle next to me and I reluctantly pull my eyes off of her. I have to battle down the beast inside me as the rookie looks at what’s mine with a fire in his eyes. “You’re truly a very lucky man, Moore.”
Yes, I am.
I know this.
Everyone knows this.
I don’t need some kid who thinks he’s God’s gift to racing and women—when just a few years ago he was a pimple-covered hormonal teenager—to tell me that.
I grunt in return, but clearly the prick isn’t picking up on the “tread lightly if you want to live” look Jace is sending him. Or the “keep going down this road and you won’t have any eyes to be able to see where you’re driving with” one from me.
His French accent sounds like nails on a chalkboard as he continues.
“I have to say, though, I’m a bit disappointed.
I’ve been following her social media growth ever since I started in Formula 2 a couple years ago.
Was looking forward to running into her once I made it to the big show.
Even thought of taking my shot with her. Are you two exclusive?”
I clench my jaw so tight, I swear I hear a tooth crack.
“Excuse me?” I grit out.
Frenchy throws his hands up and laughs. “I’m just asking. Who doesn’t like a bit of stiff competition?”
“Lord help him, he’s not going to live to see his first race,” Jace whispers while I slowly turn to fully face my suddenly least favorite driver on the grid, possibly in history… ever.
I open my mouth, ready to let out my fury that’s been building ever since he laid his slimy eyes on my girl, but a short yelp catches my attention. My eyes dart towards Sydney and I instantly start moving.
“Damnit all to hell,” she curses under her breath, hobbling as she looks down at her feet.
“Sunshine.”
Her eyes dart up to me at my rough voice and she smiles sheepishly.
“Hi, handsome. You look amazing out there.”
“Thank you.” I assess her, pausing on the fact she’s putting all her weight on her right leg. “Everything okay?”
“Oh!” She laughs anxiously. “It’s nothing.”
“Sydney—”
“Growly.” She smirks and I sigh, stepping closer to her.
“I’m not walking away until you tell me what’s wrong.”
“What makes you think anything is wrong?”
Her eyebrow twitches and I huff a laugh, reaching up and tracing a finger over it.
“You have a tell when you’re lying. Always have.”
Her jaw drops as she gasps, slapping her hand over her eyebrows. “I do not!”
“Oh really? How do you think I knew it was you that was really eating all of the strawberry Pop-Tarts when we were kids, and not Jace like everyone else thought it was?”
“Maybe because I love everything strawberry?”
“Nope. It was this right here.” I move her hand away and brush my thumb over her dainty eyebrow before cupping the side of her face. “I’ve known every time you’ve lied, big or small, ever since that first day.”
“You’ve never said anything.”
My eyes dance between hers. “Not unless I had to. Like right now, when you won’t tell me that something is wrong.”
She blows out a breath and speaks softly. “I took a weird step and broke the heel of my brand new ‘I’m a professional not just the girl who runs around shooting TikToks’ shoes. And I think I tweaked my ankle.”
I nod, assessing her left foot before meeting her slightly worried stare. She hasn’t moved a muscle since I first heard her quick cry and as she looks around at our surroundings, it clicks that she doesn’t want this sudden weakness to be noticed.
Just as it was with Blake, Sydney has been fighting an uphill battle when it comes to having the respect she so rightfully deserves from the other teams’ members and drivers.
I don’t know if it’s the underlying perception that women don’t belong in this sport—that doesn’t seem to want to die, no matter how much we all want it to—or if it’s the impression that social media isn’t really a serious platform.
But if people looked for more than half a second, they would see that Sydney Collins and what she does for her team—for this sport—is a vital part of its success.
She isn’t some teenager bopping around, looking to exploit a trend. She’s a strategic thinker who, even though we drivers want to do nothing but drive, expose us as more than just athletes to the world.
She makes us human.
Clearing my throat, I lift my chin, garnering not only her attention but a few others around us. “So, there was mention of Miller Racing and Nightingale collaborating for some sort of interview later on.”
Her eyebrows furrow in question and I widen my eyes ever so slightly, praying she catches on. A half second later, her face breaks out into a smile before she quickly smothers it with a serious look.
“Yes, it’s a twist on the typical interview where it’s more of a ‘who knows their teammate better’ set up.”
“Well, seeing as one of those partnerships is a married couple, think you could give me some insight into what questions will be asked? Because I don’t think I can admit on camera that I do, in fact, know Jace’s ten step skin care routine by heart.”