28. Sharing
Sharing
Lucy
Elio Spinelli kissed me. And I kissed him back. Several times.
I barely slept last night, and as I get ready for the day, my pulse is still racing. What the heck was that? We kissed. And it was amazing. Sweet, tender, and oh, so sexy. But what does it mean? Why do I feel like I both won the lottery and lost every dime I own?
Because even if I know he’s perfect for me, we live across the world from each other, and this relationship—or whatever it is—has an expiration date.
Actually, it’s not even a relationship. It’s a collection of kisses.
A pretty darn good one, but nothing more.
Even if Elio is not the player the media portrays, he’s still not a relationship guy.
And who can blame him? There’s no potential here.
Any kind of relationship would be doomed from the start, and to be honest, that’s probably why he kissed me in the first place.
Dreading our next encounter, I drag myself out of my room a few minutes after our proposed meeting time.
He’s already waiting in the corridor, leaning against the wall in a pair of dark jeans and a white polo top.
“Ciao, Bella,” he says, and those two little words are all it takes for me to swoon and forget all about my mental breakdown.
“Hey.” I sway on my feet, not sure what to do with myself.
He takes my hand to draw me closer, the warmth of his touch making my pulse skip. His thumb brushes over my cheek, lingering, as if memorizing the moment. “I was missing you already,” he murmurs. His voice is soft but steady, sending a shiver down my spine.
Then he leans forward, and his lips meet mine with a quiet intensity.
The world around me melts away. It’s not rushed, but there’s a sense of purpose in the way his hand slides to the small of my back, holding me like I might disappear.
My fingers find their way to his chest, anchoring me, and I feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my touch.
It’s more than a kiss. It’s a silent conversation, filled with questions I’m not ready to answer. When he pulls back, my knees threaten to buckle, like the floor beneath me has shifted.
I’m left speechless. Not only b y this mind-blowing kiss, but by the fact that it happened again.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, frowning as he caresses my cheek.
“It’s just—Sorry, I'm—I wasn’t sure what to expect, you know? After yesterday,” I stammer. “And well, now you kissed me again, and—”
“Did you not want me to kiss you?”
“I—yes. Yes, I wanted you to,” I say, my cheeks burning. “Very much, but you know me, always thinking ahead. And Elio, I don’t live here. This is going to be complicated, and I don’t want to put any of that on your mind during a race weekend. I’m sorry.” I blow out a long breath.
He chuckles, taking my hand to ground me in the present. “Let’s just see where this goes. We have one more week together at least, right?”
I nod, though my stomach is twisting into knots. Gosh, this is so not me. I don’t understand what’s happening, but there’s one thing I do know. Now that I’ve kissed Elio, I’ll never be able to stay away. “Okay. Let’s just keep it between us, then?”
“You got it. I know how important it is for you,” he says, squeezing my hand before placing another sweet kiss on my lips. “Better kiss you while I can, no?”
I chuckle as we walk to the elevator.
He casts me a mischievous side glance. “I wonder how long it would take for them to unblock us if I pressed the emergency button?” he asks, kissing my hand a few times and making me laugh.
Elio
It’s not easy to stay away from Lucy the rest of the morning.
Every time I see her, I want to take her in my arms and kiss her senseless.
When was the last time that happened? When has a girl ever had that effect on me?
Probably never. But I know Lucy wants to appear professional at work, and I understand the consequences.
It’s a good thing I have a packed morning schedule, as always on Fridays, with a couple of engineering meetings and the first two practices of the weekend.
When I’m finally done with my commitments for the day, Lucy and I walk slowly from the garage to the motorhome.
Drawing a breath of courage, I blurt out, “I want to take you somewhere.”
“Um, sure. Where are we going?” Her eyebrows scrunch together.
I rake a hand through my hair. “It’s not far from here. But I’d rather show you than talk about it, if that’s okay?”
She studies me for a moment. “Of course. Are you done here? No more meetings or interviews?”
“All done.” I smile, trying to hide the turmoil that’s raging inside of me. I did push a few things around to make this happen. Claude wasn’t too happy, but this is more important. Besides, I did all the ma ndatory things that were expected of me today.
We exit the paddock and climb onto the Vespa. During the entire trip, I try not to dwell on the fact that this is a big first for me. Because as weird as it feels, it feels equally right.
The massive shape of the hospital comes into view, and my chest constricts as memories rush to my brain faster than I can stop them.
“What are we doing here?” Lucy asks as we take off our helmets. “I don’t understand.”
“One of the things I like to do,” I begin, taking a sharp breath to steady myself, “is to come visit sick kids here at the hospital. They’re so isolated, and I love to bring them some joy and comfort, you know?”
“Yeah . . .” She stares at me for a second, as if sensing there’s more to the story, but she doesn’t push it, and I’m grateful. “That’s generous of you.”
We step into the hospital, and the familiar smell of antiseptic fills the air.
My pulse quickens, that old panic creeping in like clockwork.
It’s a pull in two directions—this place is both a sanctuary and a battlefield for me.
But I shake off the sensation. As hard as it is to be here, I know that the moment I see the kids, the weight that’s crushing down on my chest will lighten.
I guide Lucy to the oncology ward, knowing these halls like the back of my hand. Even if it’s not the hospital I was in, I always visit it when I have a race here.
“Elio, is that you?” I don’ t need to turn around to recognize the voice of Marie, one of the oncology nurses.
“Ciao! Tutto bene?” I give her a hug.
“I was wondering when we’d see you this weekend,” she says warmly, then turns to Lucy, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.
“This is Lucy,” I say without elaborating, resting a hand on her lower back. The small gesture steadies me more than it should.
“Nice to meet you, Lucy,” Marie says before shaking her hand.
She smiles. “Likewise.”
“Well, go on ahead. I’ll be in the office.” Marie shakes her head lightly, her smile widening. “They’re going to be ecstatic to see you.”
“So am I.” I flash her a bright grin, channeling the energy I’ll need. Turning to Lucy, I give her a nod. “Let’s go.”
I greet a few other nurses on our way to the first patient room.
“Do you know everyone here?” Lucy asks with a chuckle.
“Most of them, yes. Like I said, I come here often. Now, this first room is Clark’s. He’s British, but his dad works for the royal guard here in Monaco. He’s six years old and has been here for five years.”
“Oh my gosh,” Lucy says, tears springing to her eyes.
I stop and touch her shoulder gently. “Please, try to be happy. It’s important to spread positive energy in the room, okay?”
She closes her eyes, drawing a de ep breath, then nods. “Yes, of course. Sorry.” When she opens her eyes again, she’s wearing a bright, determined smile that’s almost too big.
“Perfect,” I say, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before opening the door.
“Clark, my man!” I call out, my voice full of warmth as I step inside. Clark is lying on his hospital bed, engrossed in a motocross video game.
“Elio!” he exclaims, sitting a little straighter. “You’re here!”
I give him a hug, and the way he clings to my neck is bittersweet.
I can feel how much this embrace means to him, how much he needs it, but I hate that he does.
That he’s stuck in this hospital bed, missing out on his childhood.
Even if I know it can get better—I am proof of it, after all—I also know that not all of them make it.
I force the lump in my throat down, replacing it with my brightest smile as I pull back. “This is my friend, Lucy. She’s American and super cool.”
“Hi Lucy,” Clark waves, revealing his gap-toothed smile.
She steps closer, radiating positivity. “So nice to meet you, Clark. What are you playing?”
“Yeah, man,” I add, crossing my arms. “ What are you playing? Where are the F1 cars?”
Clark bursts into loud laughter that makes Lucy giggle. “I love motocross too. But we can play F1 together.”
“You should play with Lucy toda y. That way, you actually have a shot of winning.” I wink, and Lucy and Clark both gasp at my audacious claim.
He folds his small arms over his chest, still smiling. “Hey, I won last time. Or have you forgotten?”
I tap my finger on my lips. “Last time? When? I have no recollection of that.”
He giggles louder. “You’re lying.”
“Okay, fine. You totally beat me. Let me get the second controller.”
I walk around the bed and open the bedside table to find it, ignoring the half-empty juice box and pile of medication packs stacked on the tabletop, then hand the controller to Lucy. “There you go.”
“Um, how do we even play this?” she asks, chuckling.
“I’ll show you,” Clark offers with a spark of enthusiasm, so I let him explain. Meanwhile, I recline in the lounge chair, identical to the one my mom napped in so many times when I was in Clark’s place.