9. Off Track
Off Track
Elio
After our ride, we drive back home and sit on the patio with a glass of lemonade. Lucy is showing me what the website looks like so far, and it’s interesting to see how it’s shaping up.
“Now, I know you’re not big on planning, but do you always come home between races?” she asks, closing the webpage.
The corners of my lips twitch into a smile. “I do. Especially when we have two weeks in between, and one of them is in Europe. Otherwise, I usually travel to the next circuit and stay there.”
She shakes her head, incredulous. “Tha t’s a lot of traveling. It’s a shame, with such a gorgeous house.”
“It is, but that’s why I love summer so much. All the races are in Europe, so I get to come home every week, even if it’s just for a few days.”
She takes a sip of her drink. “And what do you usually do when you’re home?”
“Are you trying to get a schedule out of me?” I tease, and her cheeks redden.
“Maybe.”
“Well, usually , I relax on Mondays and head to the next track on Wednesday night or Thursday morning. Tuesdays and Wednesdays are mostly training and meetings.”
She bites her lip. “So, tomorrow . . .”
“You’re unbelievable,” I say, giving her a pointed look. “Yes, I’m meeting with my trainer here tomorrow.”
“Perfect,” she says, a satisfied smile rolling across her lips as she takes another sip of her lemonade.
“Is planning that important for you? Do you organize everything in your life?”
She shrugs. “I really don’t, but I want to try to enjoy Italy, maybe go to the beach once or twice. Knowing your schedule will help with that.”
“Ohh, I see.” I lean back against my chair, enjoying the gentle breeze caressing my skin. “Trying to mix business with pleasure.”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t ju dge. I haven’t had a vacation in two years.”
I stare back at her. “Wow. That’s a long time. Couldn’t get time off?”
She sighs. “I could have, but either my ex-boyfriend couldn’t get off work, or he preferred to stay in Chicago.”
My body tenses at the mention of a boyfriend, even if it’s in the past tense. “That sucks. It’s important to leave home once in a while, enjoy a change of scenery.”
“You’d certainly know about that,” she jokes.
I wince. “Yeah. I might be pushing it, though. I’m on the opposite end of the spectrum. I need more home time. Especially since I mostly only travel for work.”
“You don’t get to enjoy any of the places you race at? That’s a shame.”
I shrug. “I go to a couple of events, but no, I usually don’t play tourist during a race weekend. And then, when I have time off, I spend it here. Not quite the exciting life you’d expect of a top F1 driver, right?”
“I didn’t really know what to expect, but what you’re saying makes sense. And this house is like a sanctuary. You must be able to really recharge here.”
My eyes rove over the patio and back toward the house, soaking in its cozy charm. “It is. I’ve been thinking of moving to Monaco, like so many of my driver friends, but I love the peace and quiet I have here. Not to mention this is my home. My parents live forty-five minutes away.”
“What about your brother? ”
“He travels as much as I do, so we don’t get to see each other that often. He tries to come to as many races as he can, and I do the same for his swimming competitions. But the two of us being pro athletes doesn’t help in that department.”
“I bet. You two seem close,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t mean to pry, but I saw you with him and your parents.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah, we’re a tight family. They’ve all sacrificed a lot for me, and I’m grateful for them. My brother might be younger, but he’s my hero.”
Lucy’s eyes spark with interest. “Wow, that’s amazing. I’ve always wanted to have brothers and sisters, but my dad left when I was barely a year old, and my mom never dated seriously again after that.”
My throat tightens. Family is everything to me. I could never imagine my life without them. “Oh, I’m sorry about your dad. Does your mom live in Chicago too?”
Lucy swallows hard, looking away. “She died two years ago.”
A sharp pain hits me in the chest, and I suddenly feel heavy. Why did I have to bring that up? “Lucy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean. I—”
“Don’t be.” She offers a small smile, twirling her straw in her glass. “You couldn’t have known. It’s not like it’s written on my forehead. But yeah, it was tough. My mom and I were close. But she got sick, and in the blink of an eye, she was gone. The only upside is that she didn’t suffer long.”
There’s a sadness in her eyes, and I wish I knew what to say, what to do to chase that sadness away, to make her think about something else.
“She was from Italy, actually. I’m not sure where, since she never talked about her family, but she was born here.”
My eyes widen, and I can’t help but smile. “Really? Now it makes more sense. I knew there was something special about you. You have Italian genes.”
She puffs out a laugh, and my heart leaps. “That’s hardly special. There’s a million people in the world like me.”
“I beg to differ,” I say, my voice dropping an octave. “There may be millions of Italians in the world, but I’m positive there’s no one like you.”
She presses her lips together, then laughs. “You are unbelievable. Are you really trying to flirt with me again? I thought we established that you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
I want to tell her I’m dead serious, but I don’t think that’s what she needs right now. So instead, I just shrug. “Had to take my shot, now that we have something in common. Besides our good looks, of course.”
She laughs again. “I must say, you do have an impeccable sense of style. Most of the drivers arrive at the track in their team apparel, but you always dress up. Why is that?”
“Because I’m Italian. Don’t you get it? Knowing how to dress is in my blood. It’s in yours too. That’s why we’d look so good together.” I wink, finishing my lemonade.
She shakes her head. “That may be, but I’m staying clear of well-dressed men for a while.”
I tilt my head slightly. “Why?”
“My ex had an amazing sense of style—”
“So now you’ve given up on all men who know how to dress? That’s hardly fair.”
“Something like that,” she says, staring at her glass. “He was the ultimate player, with way too many girl ‘friends.’ I let it slide too many times, thinking there was nothing more to it. But of course, there was.”
The weight of her words settles over me like a heavy fog.
There is no universe in which I can picture a guy dating Lucy and still checking if the grass might be greener elsewhere.
While I don’t know her that well, I can tell she’s a decent, beautiful, intelligent woman with a mind sharp enough to keep anyone on their toes.
“That’s why I don’t date. It’s way too messy,” I say.
Even the word “date” feels foreign in my mouth.
I’ve never been a relationship guy. Never dated and don’t intend to.
It’s hard to think about a future with someone when you don’t know if you’ll make it to the end of the week.
“Just like planning, it’s not my style.”
“Not the commitment type, then?”
“You could say that. I have to stay focused on my goal, you know? I want to win another Driver Championship, and playing the dating game would only distract me.”
“I get it,” she sighs, playin g with a loose tress of her hair. “That’s actually smart. I lost two years of my life with my ex, and I’ll never get those years back.”
I try to catch her eye. “You’ve just got to make the best of the ones to come.”
She cocks her head, her pretty green eyes narrowing. “Is that why you’re always so reckless on the track?”
I arch an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t watch F1?”
“I don’t, but I saw your moves yesterday, and I overheard people say you like to drive dangerously. Not to mention I nearly died in that car with you.”
I breathe out a quiet laugh. “Are you worried about me now?”
“No,” she teases, “but this is a dangerous sport with dramatic consequences if things go wrong. I know there have been a lot of big crashes over the years, some of them fatal.”
“It is a dangerous sport. Not many people are willing to risk it all like we do. But that’s also the beauty of it, don’t you think?”
She bites her bottom lip, a shadow falling over her eyes. “I guess, but you could lose your life out there.”
I shrug. “We’ll all die someday. At least I’d go out doing something I love.” Plus, all this time I have is already a bonus, but I keep that thought to myself.
Her frown deepens as she shakes her head. “That’s awful to say.”
“Don’t worry,” I say, a han d on her shoulder. “There hasn’t been a fatality in years. Most crashes only result in minor injuries.”
“And totaled cars! During the race yesterday, three guys didn’t finish because their cars were wrecked after making contact. That’s insane. What happens to them now?”
I crease my forehead. “What do you mean?”
“Well, their cars will have to be scrapped. How are they going to race? Surely, the teams can’t just build another car for them in, like, two weeks.”
“Sure they can, and that’s precisely what they do. They have backup cars and pieces for when things like that happen, which is more often than you’d imagine.”
She does a double take. “That’s unbelievable. You told me those cars were worth millions.”
I smile. “They are.”
She shakes her head, her mouth parting in disbelief. “Wow. This sport is even crazier than I thought.”
“I’ll take you to HQ so you can see how the cars are made, and how big our team is.”
“Thank you. I’d love that,” she says, her eyes sparkling. And even if I know it’s only because she wants more content for her feature, I adore her enthusiasm to learn more about what I do.
“And you can try the sim, as promised. It’s a lot of fun. You’ll see.”
“Sure, why not?” she says, standing up. “So, what are you up to the rest of the day?”
“Like I said, I’m just going to relax. Probably swim a few laps around the pool.
Make a few phone calls. You’re more than welcome to stay.
” The words come out before I can think them through, but I don’t regret saying them.
I usually like to spend my decompression time alone.
It’s my chance to recharge and regroup. But I must say, there’s something soothing about Lucy’s presence.
It’s been a while since I’ve been so relaxed after a race.
“I don’t have my swimsuit,” she says. “And I wouldn’t want to impose. After such an intense weekend, I can imagine you need a reset.”
I really want to suggest that she can swim without a suit, but I knock some sense into myself before the words spill out.
“What are you going to do, then?”
She gives a small shrug. “I’m not sure. I think I’ll take a stroll around the town I’m staying in. It looks so pretty and quaint. Very Italian. At least, from what I pictured.”
“Which town?”
“Portovino.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Nice. I’ve never been, but it’s a popular destination around here. Hope you enjoy it.”
She opens her mouth, closes it, then opens it again. “Do you—” She cuts herself off, biting her lip as a blush spreads across her cheeks. Finally, she asks, “Do you want me to leave you alone during your training tomorrow?”
Call me crazy, but I could have s worn she was just about to ask me to come with her. I could call her out on it, but she must have changed her mind for a reason.
“No, you can come tomorrow. It’s fun. If you want the classic Italian cliché, wait until you meet Giacomo, my trainer. He’s really something.”
Her face breaks into a smile. “Great. That’ll make the whole training thing more bearable.”
“What? Watching me work out shirtless wasn’t enough to look forward to already?”
Her blush deepens. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but working out isn’t exactly my thing. I’m more the eating-out kind of girl. I think it’s pretty obvious,” she says, glancing down at herself.
I follow her gaze. The only thing that’s obvious is that she has a killer body, and those curves are right where they should be. It’s a testament to her healthy relationship with food, and I love it.
“Anyway,” she says, shaking her head before I can answer. “I’d better go. What time should we meet up tomorrow?”
“Is ten okay?”
She flashes a smile. “Great.”
“Are you okay to drive? Do you need help setting up the GPS?”
Her eyes widen with realization. “Oh, actually, yes. Could you just change the language setting back to English? My Italian is a little rusty,” she says with a soft chuckle.
“Sure thing.” I smile, walkin g her to her car. It’s been a while since I’ve been in one of those tiny Fiats. My mom had one when I was growing up. I play around with the settings until I find what I’m looking for.
“There, you’re all set,” I say, stepping out.
She casts me a grateful look. “Thanks, Elio. See you tomorrow?”
“Absolutely. Training starts at ten sharp.” I grin.
As I watch her get into her car and close the door, my chest constricts. I’ve never looked forward to training this much. Ever.