7. Not Her Type
Not Her Type
Elio
I assure Caleb and James that I’ll be right back, then head to the rooftop where my family is enjoying a drink with Claude, the team principal of Rossi Motorsports.
“There he is,” Claude bellows, arms stretched wide when he sees me. He already congratulated me before the podium, but he’s big on praise. That’s why I like him, even when he makes stupid decisions. “The star of the show,” he adds before hugging me, slapping my back a little too hard.
Once we break apart, I hug my parents and brother. My mom, as always, is a little shaky.
“Are you okay?” she asks, cupping my cheeks and studying my face. Before I can answer, she draws me back into her arms while my dad pats me on the back.
“Good race, ragazzo . I’m proud of you.”
“You took risks, though,” Mom scolds. “That was unnecessary.”
I roll my eyes. “It was necessary, Mom. I wouldn’t have won otherwise.”
“No, he wouldn’t have,” Claude agrees, raising his glass to me. “Best driver on the grid.”
Mom glances between Claude and me, then sighs, knowing there’s no point in arguing with me about this. She’ll never understand my perspective. My mom has always been scared of everything—it’s her nature, valuing self-preservation above all else. Unfortunately for her, I don’t have any.
“That was crazy, frà ,” Matteo says, his eyes sparkling. I fist bump my brother and take him into my arms again. My brother is my best friend, and I love it when he can come to my races. Being a professional swimmer, he doesn’t have a lot of time off.
I slap his shoulder. “Are you going out with us tonight?”
“The usual crew?” he asks, referring to Alec and Magnus, my competitors, but also my friends.
Formula 1 is an incredibly small world with only twenty drivers on the grid.
So as much as we want to beat each other on the track, it’s also easy to become friends.
We get each other. We go through the same hardships, and we all have to be a little crazy to get behind the wheel every weekend.
“Alec has his family here, and Magnus is pissed off with his finish, so he already left. It’s just me, Caleb, and his friend, James.”
“Oh, right. I forgot Hawthorne was here. Sure, let’s go.”
We say goodbye to our parents, our mom insisting we both be careful—pointing at me as she says so—before we join Caleb and James downstairs.
After stopping at the hotel to change, we head out for a night of fun.
And as always on race day, it takes forever, between the stop-and-go traffic and the fans waiting outside the hotel and the club.
Finally, we make it to the club’s VIP corner, where I can enjoy some downtime with my friends. We chat, drink, and even dance a little. James, in particular, likes to show off his moves. They’re quite bold, probably fueled by his newfound anonymity here in Europe, compared to the US.
It doesn’t take long before a group of girls manages to get past security, asking me to sign their skin and posing for selfies with me.
“Are you celebrating your win?” the brunette asks, leaning in close to me. She’s exactly my type. Hazel eyes, olive skin, and pouty lips.
“We are.” I flash a big smile and take a selfie with her friend.
“We were at the racetrack,” she continues. “We love going to races. It’s so exciting .”
I shoot her a smile. “Oh, really. Did you enjoy it?”
Her friend tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and I get a flashback of Lucy doing the same thing earlier. She’s so enigmatic. Usually, girls are p retty easy to get, but Lucy . . . She’s hot and cold and everything in between in a matter of minutes.
The brunette pokes me on the bicep, and I focus back on her. “So, are you coming?”
I frown, not sure what they invited me to. But I know I’m not interested. “Um, no. I’m sorry. I’m celebrating with my friends tonight, but it was nice meeting you.”
They don’t hide their disappointment, but thankfully, they don’t insist either.
“What was that ?” Matteo whispers, his jaw practically dropping to the floor.
“ Cosa ?” I ask, sitting back down.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you reject a girl in your life. Let alone two.”
Caleb bobs his head. “Yeah, man. It’s a little worrying that you haven’t ditched us for a girl yet,” he adds, and they all laugh.
I shrug. “Come on. I don’t do that. Especially when you only come to, like, one race a year.”
He gives me a pointed look, and I glance away. Okay, maybe he’s not wrong.
I sigh. “Fine. I’m just not in the mood. I need to focus on work.”
“Now I’m really concerned,” Matteo says, taking a sip of his drink.
“Does this have anything to do with Lucy?” Caleb suggests, leaning back against the sofa and shooting me a smirk. “She’s cute.”
My blood starts heating, and I ta ke a deep breath.
“Even if she does root for the Chicago Cavaliers,” he adds.
James chuckles. “At least she knows hockey.”
“Hold on,” Matteo says, loud enough to carry over the music. “Who’s this Lucy chick?”
I keep my tone casual. “A journalist. She’s shadowing me until Monaco for some feature in Pulse Sports.”
“And you’re falling for her?” he asks, his expression serious. I can only imagine how crazy it must be for him, asking me that question. I have never expressed interest in a woman for more than one night, and here I am thinking about Lucy when she won’t even spare me a second thought.
I shake my head, running a hand through my hair. “No, and it doesn’t matter, because she’s not interested anyway.”
“I’m not so sure about that. She was pretty into the race today,” Caleb says. “I saw the relief in her eyes after you pulled off that last move—great one, by the way.”
“Really?” I scrunch my eyebrows, my heart racing. “That’s probably just because it was her first race. She made it perfectly clear she wants nothing to do with me.”
“Oh, poor little baby,” Matteo says, pouting. “Is that the first time in history a girl has rejected you?”
I just shrug, ignoring his dig. “Apparently, I’m not her type.”
“You're everyone's type,” Matteo and Caleb say at the same time, making us all laugh.
“Yeah, dude. For real,” James adds. “You’ve got that Italian charm going for you.”
“Oh, I’m flattered,” I say, a hand on my chest. “Anyway, enough about me. What about you guys? Why are the bunch of you still single?”
“You know me. Not ready for that yet,” Caleb says, holding up his drink. “I prefer to wait until I retire.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Matteo says, and they clink their glasses.
“You and I are the same,” James sighs, gesturing between the two of us. “Incredibly handsome, yet rejected by the women we want.”
“I don’t wan—” I begin, then clamp my mouth shut.
Caleb scoffs, giving James a pointed look. “Not true. Come on, dude! Girls are lining up to ‘hug’ you left and right.”
“Um, not Elizabeth . I’ve been flirting with her forever, and she barely gives me the time of day,” James says, and I can tell by his tone he’s not joking. His longing is genuine, and I feel bad for the man.
“Oh, shoot. I didn’t know it was that serious,” Caleb says, his eyebrows drawing together. “I always thought it was just a game for you. But anyway, she has a boyfriend, so that might be the reason.”
“Yeah. That’ll do it,” I say, taking a swig of my drink. They keep on talking about this Elizabeth, but Lucy’s is the only face that’s front and center in my mind, no matter how hard I try to think about something else. And that’s definitely a first for me.