25. The New Ride
The New Ride
Elio
After traveling for two days, and an entire day in strategy meetings yesterday, being out today is a welcome change.
Well, the confines of a stuffy indoor pool isn’t exactly out , but at least I’m with Lucy.
I haven’t seen her for three days, and I missed being around her.
So, when I heard Matteo had a competition in Nice this morning, only thirty minutes from Monaco, where we’re due this afternoon, I jumped at the chance to add a mini road trip to the agenda.
I requested a Rossi rental car at the airport, and now here we are.
“So, do you come to a lot of your brother's competitions?” she asks as we sit down on the bleachers.
“Whenever I can, which is not often,” I say with a chuckle.
“They’re held all over Europe, and they often coincide with race weekends.
But I love being there to support my brother.
I owe him a lot.” That’s the understatement of the year.
I pretty much owe him everything. Our trip to Milano was a fresh reminder I didn’t need.
Her eyes sparkle. “That’s amazing. I wish I had a close sibling like you do.”
“You have a cousin now. You two seem to be hitting it off.” She told me all about her day at the beach with her family.
“Yeah.” Her smile brightens. “Alessia’s great. We’re alike in so many ways, not just our looks. You should have seen us shopping yesterday. We had a blast.”
“I’m glad.”
“So, how big of a competition are we talking about here? Should we yell his name and jump to our feet if he makes the podium?”
I chuckle at her enthusiasm. “You definitely can. It’s actually a big one, the European Championship finals. We missed most of the meet, which took place yesterday, and he won the 100-meter Butterfly. This is the final of the 100-meter Freestyle.”
Her eyes widen. “Wow, okay. Then we have to get our cheering game on. What about your parents? Are they coming?”
“Nah. They couldn’t make it. They don’t come to a lot of these meets anymore. It’s not exactly their thing, and Dad always complains that they have to travel left and right, then wait around all day for the moment Matteo competes, which only lasts a few minutes.”
“Right. They’re used to the whole shebang of the Grand Prix.”
I nod. “Exactly, and our dad is a big F1 fan.”
Her face carries a shadow of melancholy. “Oh, that’s too bad for your brother, though. It must feel lonely to do this alone.”
I pause, her comment catching me off guard.
I’ve actually never thought about it that way.
Matteo has always been a loner, fiercely independent.
But now, as I watch him waiting for his race, standing quietly among the other competitors, a pang of doubt stirs in my chest. Is it lonely for him?
Does he ever wish someone were here just for him?
“Well, I’m excited for this,” Lucy continues, pulling me out of my reverie. “I’ve watched swimmers on TV during the Olympics but never in person.”
“Oh, really? I didn’t know you followed the sport. Is it bad that I’m a little jealous?” I chuckle.
She laughs, a blush coating her cheeks. “Don’t be. I’m not exactly a swimming fan either, and I don’t follow it. But my ex—” She clamps her mouth shut, clearing her throat.
My jaw tightens. “Oh, he was a fan?”
Her shoulders fall. “Not exactly, but he always liked watching the Olympics, so I watched with him. ”
“Oh, gotcha. How long has it been over?” I can’t help but pry for more information, even if I’m not sure I want it.
“Almost a year.”
“Well, I’m sorry he was a jerk to you. I hope, with time, you’ll let well-dressed men back into your life,” I say with a wink, hoping to break the tension. “It’s not fair to the rest of us.”
Although, I could always start dressing like a slob.
She laughs, shaking her head. “You’re right. It’s not,” she teases. “Maybe I could make an exception. Do you know anyone with a great sense of style?”
I bark out a laugh. “Nicely played, Bella.”
She gives me a little bow.
I play along, but my heart kick-starts in my chest, because for the first time, it feels like there’s a glimmer of hope for Lucy and me. And as weird as it sounds, I can’t help but hold on to it.
The signal for the race blares, forcing me to focus on the race.
Matteo dives into the pool with a power and grace that has everyone around us sitting up straighter.
The swim is as intense as it is brief, each stroke cutting through the water with precision.
The tension builds with every second until—
“He did it!” Lucy yells, and we both fly to our feet, cheering and clapping like maniacs. Heads turn—some amused, others annoyed—but I don’t care. My brother just won the 100-meter Freestyle at the European Championship, and I want the whole world to know how proud I am.
As Matteo emerges from the pool, his expression cracks into a boyish grin when he spots us, and suddenly, I wish I could have been here to cheer him on for the entire meet.
“Hey, frà ,” I say, hugging him once he’s available. “You were amazing. Great job.”
“Congratulations,” Lucy adds with a smile before shaking his hand. “You were great.”
“Wow, thanks for coming. I wasn’t expecting you guys, or that amount of encouragement.”
“Well, we wanted to show our support.” I wink, slapping his back.
He chuckles. “Mission accomplished. I couldn’t see you, but I would have sworn there was an entire row of you back there. You were so loud.”
“Nope, it was just us. You know, Mom and Dad . . .”
He waves a hand in dismissal. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting them. It’s a long drive for just five minutes of action, right? Too much waiting around. I know the drill.”
“Right.” I nod, feeling a twist in my stomach.
He props his hands on his hips. “So, are you going straight to Monaco?”
“Yep. We have an event this afternoon, and then it starts again tomorrow. When will you get there?”
“For quali, probably. Mom and Dad, too?”
I nod, feeling weirder and weirder about this. Why are my parents not here? I’m kind of angry at them now. They’re coming to Monaco in three days. They could have left early and stopped here for the competition. They do have an RV, after all.
“Do you mind if I snap a few pictures of you two together?” Lucy asks, grabbing her phone from her bag. “You know, for the feature.”
I glance at Matteo, who beams. “Of course,” I say. I’m happy to shed some light on my brother’s accomplishments too. After all, this feature about me wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for him.
She snaps a few pictures, but someone calls for Matteo, and he has to get going. “I’m sorry, guys. Duty calls, but I’m glad you stopped by. It means a lot.” He takes me into his arms, and I hug him a few seconds longer than usual, wanting him to feel the love.
“You killed it. Congrats, frà. ”
Lucy
After our pit stop in Nice, we make our way to Monaco.
I’ve been warned about it, but nothing could have prepared me for the glitz and glam of this place.
The hotel we’re in is the most luxurious I’ve ever seen.
A small crowd has gathered in front, witnessing our arrival as valets and butlers tend to us until we’re inside.
Our rooms are right next to each other, and mine is absolutely huge.
Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a breathtaking view of the marina, where yachts gleam under the Mediterranean sun.
Every d etail inside, from the plush, cream-colored furniture to the marble accents and a glittering chandelier above, screams opulence.
Unfortunately, I don’t have time to bask in the comfort of my room, because we’re already late to the racetrack.
I definitely need to call Frank to thank him for this impressive room.
I knew my hotel would be fancy, since I’m staying where Elio is, but I didn’t think it would be this—wait a minute.
Now that I stop to think about it, there is no way Pulse Sports is paying for this.
The company is nice and all, but why get me a luxury suite when a regular room would do just fine?
Elio is leaving his room when I close the door behind me.
“What’s that all about?” I ask, glancing at my door.
“What do you mean?” He frowns, adjusting his RM cap on his head.
“You’re really going to stand there and tell me you have nothing to do with me getting upgraded to a luxury suite? I know my employer well enough to be certain this isn’t the accommodation that was originally booked for me.”
He sighs, his shoulders relaxing. “Fine. You got me.” He grins. “I just wanted you to have a nice room.”
I open my mouth to thank him, but he speaks first.
“Wait, is that okay?” His forehead creases as he takes a step toward me. “I didn’t mean to overstep. No one knows I did that. I paid with my personal card and not the team’s, but—”
“It’s fine.” I force a casual smile, but my heart is hurtling down a racetrack of its own.
The fact that he genuinely took my concerns into account means a lot to me, but I don’t want to leave him paranoid or undermine his kind gesture.
“I appreciate you doing that. It was very, um, sweet.” I slide a strand of hair behind my ear. “Thank you.”
“I’m glad you like it.” He smiles, putting his hands in his pockets.
We both fall silent as he gazes into my eyes, the intensity of his stare pulling me in. There’s an unfamiliar tension in the air, thickening with every passing second. I feel the space between us shrink, my breath catching in my throat as the warmth of his proximity surrounds me.
I almost forget to breathe when I notice the subtle shift in his gaze, his lips just a little too close to mine. And for a second, I think he might—
The elevator pings, startling me. “Goodness, the race!” I say, almost out of breath. “You’re already late.”
He clears his throat. “Right. Andiamo .”
“Will you be disqualified if you’re late?” I ask as we walk across the lobby.