ONE #2
‘Ha! Maybe next year.’ He wraps an arm around Maisie’s waist and presses his lips to her forehead, like he can’t get enough of her. ‘It was a good day for Fraser, especially since Hayden came second. And who came third?’ He smirks at me. ‘Oh, that’s right, not Quezada.’
‘They made a couple of mistakes with their pit stops, that’s all,’ I reply defiantly. One of the Gold Dart drivers finished third, putting the Quezada cars in fourth and sixth place.
‘ Sure . Anyway, come and meet Leif and Corey from Rask.’ Gio waves in the direction of the bar. ‘I invited them along.’
I clamp a hand around his arm. ‘Leif Olsen?’
‘Yes.’ He does a double take. ‘Why? Are you interested? I’m pretty sure he’s single.’
‘That’s not why I want to meet him. He’s just such an incredible driver,’ I enthuse, before remembering who I’m talking to and biting my tongue. ‘Like you, obviously.’
‘Uh-huh. Nice save.’ Gio laughs, before looking suspiciously at Maisie. ‘Was she this starstruck the first time she met me?’
‘Oh, I’m so not getting involved in this.’ Maisie chuckles. ‘If it helps, you’re still my favourite driver.’
‘It does help.’ He gives her yet another kiss and then grins at me. ‘Come on, I’ll introduce you.’
Gio strides off with Maisie, leaving me no choice but to follow. I wanted a moment to prepare, but now all I can do is clamp a hand to my chest as excitement bubbles up from my stomach because I can already see a pair of familiar faces beside the bar.
‘Guys!’ Gio calls out as he approaches. ‘This is Maisie’s friend, Ava. Ava, this is Leif and Corey.’
‘Hi! It’s so great to meet you both,’ I say, trying to strike a blend between friendly and sympathetic because if Quezada had a bad day, Rask’s was catastrophic.
Leif was driving a perfect race until his gearbox broke on the twenty-first lap, while Corey finished sixteenth – not quite last, but still way out of the points.
‘Hey, Ava,’ Corey answers in his strong and sexy Australian accent.
This is his second season in F1 and, whilst his driving style isn’t particularly exciting, he’s popular with the other drivers off-track and has a reputation for being the biggest flirt on the grid.
And now I understand why. Not only does he manage to make a simple greeting sound incredibly suggestive, but he looks like a rock star, dressed in a tight dark shirt, black jeans and loads of chunky silver rings, with shoulder-length chestnut hair, golden eyes and sun-bronzed skin.
In contrast, Leif has cropped hair, twilight-blue eyes and stubble so pale it’s practically invisible.
He’s taller than most F1 drivers, with broad shoulders and slim hips, and he’s dressed casually in a baseball jersey with patina jeans.
Also, unlike Corey, he doesn’t say hi. He doesn’t even smile.
Instead his posture stiffens, his eyes widen and he just … stares .
My bubble of excitement pops. I can’t interpret his expression, but it doesn’t exactly say ‘pleased to meet you’.
‘So, Ava, do you work in F1?’ Corey asks.
‘Not yet, but I’m hoping to one day,’ I say, smiling because at least he’s being friendly.
I don’t mention Quezada. In the end, being told to come back in eleven months isn’t exactly a definite job offer.
‘I’d love to work in media or communications, ideally for a team, but I only just finished my degree and I’ve heard it’s tough finding positions midway through the season. ’
‘Can’t Gio find you something at Fraser?’
‘He’s done enough,’ I say quickly, because the truth is he’s already offered and I’ve already refused.
I could tell he felt conflicted about it, and I don’t want to put him in an awkward position, especially since I can understand his reluctance.
Quezada are Fraser’s main rivals, which means that if I do end up getting a job with them in December, anything I’ve learned from one could potentially be passed to the other, even accidentally.
‘That’s a pity.’ Corey winks at me. ‘It might have been fun seeing you about the grid.’
‘Leave her alone.’ Gio breaks off from nuzzling Maisie’s neck to wrap his spare arm around my shoulders. ‘I’m her honorary big brother.’
I smile because that’s how I feel about him too, even though I already have a big brother at home. It’s good to know Gio’s got my back, especially considering the way Leif just reacted to me, like he thinks I was responsible for his loss today.
My gaze drifts back towards him. He’s not staring so intensely any more, but now his brows are drawn together and his eyes are wandering over me like they don’t know where to settle.
Blood rushes to my cheeks in a way I haven’t felt for a long time.
All I can think is that I’ve said something negative about him in one of my podcasts and he’s taken it personally.
Although … I’m wracking my brains, but I can’t think of anything.
‘Sorry about your gearbox,’ I say, because I need to reassert control over the situation somehow.
‘We’re not talking about it.’ Corey answers for him again. ‘That’s our team ethos. Forward not backwards. No blame and no regrets.’ He puts a hand on Leif’s shoulder. ‘Even when it sucks.’
‘You know, Ava has a podcast, Single Seat News ,’ Maisie says. ‘You guys should be on it. That’s how Gio and I officially met.’
‘I’d love to.’ Corey doesn’t hesitate. ‘Send me some details and we’ll set it up.’
‘That would be amazing.’ I beam gratefully at him. ‘Thank you.’
I glance surreptitiously in Leif’s direction, but he’s obviously not offering.
He’s still not said a word. The only good thing is that he’s not looking at me at all any more.
Instead his hard stare is fixed on the dance floor behind my head, his jaw clenched tight.
If I had any doubts, I’d say that’s fairly conclusive proof he doesn’t want anything to do with me.
My foot taps a beat on the floor. Well, that’s fine because I don’t want anything to do with him now either.
I don’t usually take an instantaneous dislike to people, but in this case I feel it might be justified.
Not only is he making me feel awkward, but I’m so disappointed too.
Ten minutes ago he was my favourite driver, and now it turns out he’s an asshole.
I guess it’s true what they say about never meeting your heroes.
‘That’s enough standing around,’ Maisie declares. ‘Who wants to dance?’
‘I’m in.’ Corey raises his bottle.
‘Me too.’ Gio’s already heading towards the floor.
‘I might get a drink first,’ I say. I know how my brain works and I’m not ready to dive on to the dance floor yet. Even with Maisie here, I need time to acclimatize to my surroundings.
‘OK, but don’t be long.’ Corey grins at me. ‘Look after her, man.’
It takes me a moment to realize who he’s talking to, then another to process the fact that it means Leif’s not dancing either.
Shit . I flex my hands to stop them from curling into fists.
I can’t believe nobody else has noticed or called him out on his rude behaviour, but then Maisie and Gio are so wrapped up in each other and maybe Corey’s used to it …
‘Just water, thanks,’ I say to the hostess who approaches at that moment.
I never touch alcohol in places like this because I prefer to stay in control, although for the first time in forever I’m tempted.
If anyone could drive me to drink, I have a feeling it would be Leif I-stare-at-people-for-no-apparent-reason Olsen.
The silence between us seems to drag on forever.
Not that it’s really silent, obviously. The music is actually deafening.
But standing side by side like this feels so uncomfortable.
My skin is prickling because I’m so acutely aware of him, but I’ve made at least two attempts at conversation and I refuse to try again.
Thankfully, the hostess returns with my water, which I gulp down and set aside in record time. I’m still not ready to dance, but anything has to be better than this.
I’m just turning to say goodbye when somebody bumps into me from behind, knocking me straight into Leif’s chest. Automatically I lift my hands, fingers splaying outwards, while his come up to grasp my triceps.
I get an instant impression of rippling pectoral muscles and an earthy fragrance that bypasses my brain and rockets straight to a low-down spot in my body.
We’re pressed against each other so closely I can feel his heartbeat thumping hard and heavy through our clothes, making mine race in response.
I’m totally unprepared for the volcano of heat that erupts inside me at his touch.
I jerk my head up in surprise, but meeting his gaze makes the situation a hundred times worse.
His pupils are so dilated his eyes look thunderously black rather than blue and a muscle is twitching in his cheek, like touching me is some kind of punishment, which is kind of ironic when he’s the one holding me.
‘Sorry.’ I yank myself backwards, wrenching my arms away.
‘It’s OK.’ He speaks – finally! – and even though I’ve heard his voice plenty of times in interviews, hearing it in person is a shock.
It’s deep and accented and seems to vibrate across my skin and through my body, making me feel weirdly off-balance.
Perhaps he senses it, because his gaze flickers down to my legs and then quickly up again.
I have no idea how to read his expression this time either.
‘Um, I’m going … to dance …’ I mutter, gesturing in the direction of my friends. It’s all I’m capable of at this moment. Despite the water I downed, my throat’s drying up and my arms are tingling like they’ve been scorched by his fingertips.
Panic flashes through me. I have to go, to get as far away from Leif Olsen as possible. My composure isn’t just undermined, it’s utterly wrecked.