Chapter 16
MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA
T he visor of his helmet was dotted with droplets of rain, the road ahead barely visible because of the thin drizzle falling onto the track. Good thing that he knew the trajectory of the circuit like he’d been born on it.
His breathing was staggered, the zipping roar of his engine a melody to his ears. Gripping the steering wheel tightly between his gloved fingers, he embraced all those frissons skittering down his spine as he took a high-speed chicane. This particular circuit was one of his favourites because 1) it was bumpy and slippery until it rubbered in after a few progressing sessions, rendering the competition quite challenging for most drivers; 2) this was where he’d had his maiden win five years ago.
As his foot pressed on the throttle, AJ’s voice boomed in his earplugs the very moment he passed a yellow flag being waved in the air. “Yellow flag in sector two. The safety car is arriving. Keep delta positive.”
Slowing down, he cast a quick glance in his rear-view mirror to see if the chaos had unravelled behind him. Charlie was following him closely, now zig-zagging to keep his tyres warm, as overtaking was forbidden until the green flag was brandished and the safety car was out of the track.
“What happened? Is everyone okay?” he demanded. The sun was now peeking through clouds, although slowly, the rain falling down in thin, irregular rivulets.
“There’s a McMillan in the gravel. Locked up and almost collided with the wall. Hugo’s okay, but he’s retiring because there’s an issue with his gearbox.”
The safety car came to lead the queue of fast cars in front of Miles. “Sucks for the team.”
“Yeah. Box on the next lap.”
As he kept dragging his vehicle on the asphalt, switching between slowing down and accelerating, he almost chuckled at the sight of Charlie attempting to drift in the rain.
In the pit lane, he stopped where his pit crew waited for him in front of his garage, ready to replace the tyres.
“Inters?” Miles asked, bemused. “Don’t mess up.”
Less than three seconds later, his car had a fresh set of compounds on, and he was driving out of the pit lane, falling back into fifth place. He’d seen other drivers opt for the same strategy: pitting during the safety car.
“Track’s drying out. Trust me,” AJ said.
Miles sighed, ignoring the spray misting from the car in front. “You’re going to give me grey hairs, AJ.”
His race engineer huffed. “You’ll thank me when you win another title.”
It took six laps for the track to be cleared and the green flag to be brandished. Accelerating easily, Miles overtook two cars in the long, fast turn.
“Great job,” AJ praised as Miles fell into third place. “Seventeen laps to go.”
Three laps later, the track dried out, but not enough to put soft compounds on, though not wet enough to keep wet tyres on. The two Primavera Racing drivers that had been leading the race went into the pit lane, leaving Miles to be the leader of the race.
“Good call,” he finally told AJ.
“Please, do you know who you’re talking to?”
All Miles did was grunt before pushing on the throttle, leaving a big gap between him and Charlie.
Miles won the Grand Prix.
As he stood on the podium, hands behind his back, and gaze settled on the now blue sky, he listened to the British Anthem.
This —this sensational and incomparable feeling—was what fuelled him.
This was what made him happy.
This was what he was made for.
Glancing down, he dipped his chin in a curt nod when he locked his stare with his team principal, David, before looking at the car mechanics cheering him on, and all the fans chanting his name.
Despite the pride flaring inside his chest, despite the awareness that he’d fought his whole life to stand here today, he couldn’t help but feel as though he was doing something wrong. As though he would get more hate for winning again, for being a ferocious and unbeatable driver.
He wasn’t enough despite his greatest efforts. And he didn’t know what to do anymore.
As he grabbed the bottle of champagne, rammed it against the step to let the bubbles fizzle out and throw the liquid on Charlie and Rowan, he wondered what he needed to achieve in order to show the world he wasn’t that inaccessible. That agonising feeling of being unloved was starting to become overwhelming, and he just needed it to stop.
Perhaps the breathtaking blonde chatting with a cameraman, whose gaze found his in a heartbeat when he stepped inside the media pen, would help him salvage himself.
And if salvation meant breaking each one of his rules, then he’d ruin himself to win.
“Can I run an idea by you? You might hate it, though.”
“Consider me intrigued,” he drawled lazily to Ava as he glanced to where she was sitting, tablet opened before her as she typed hastily.
She stopped whatever she’d been doing for the past half-hour, walked up to the door, closed it, then sat beside him on the sofa. Miles had been relaxing after his interviews, soaking it all in before he needed to head out to grab a post-race dinner with his friends.
“I’m telling you this as your press officer,” she began. “Not your friend.”
“Shit, I hate it when you use that tone.” He raised his hands. “I promise I’ve been trying to be good during interviews.”
“You have,” Ava assured sweetly and took a breath in. “You’re allowed to say no, okay?”
“Get straight to the point, Ave.”
“Right, right. What do you think of PR relationships?”
He blinked. “Pardon me?”
“With Indy,” she added, her expression indecipherable.
Frowning, he leaned forward to place his elbows atop his thighs and ran a hand across his jaw. At the simple mention of the beautiful blonde, his pulse started picking up its pace. “I don’t like this idea. Where are you going with it?”
“I’ve noticed a sudden interest in whatever’s going on between you and Indy from your followers. Lots of encouragement. Lots of questions. The whole fake dating thing would not only help you polish your image, but it could be beneficial for her, too, in many ways.”
Miles stared at the wall ahead, shaking his head. “Does she know about this?”
“Not yet. I wanted to run the idea by you first. And to be honest, it was Carmen who came up to me. She thinks it would be good PR, especially for you, and since you and Indy hang out a lot…”
Redemption could be his, but was this the sole solution? Miles had one shot at making everything right with Indy, but playing pretence would destroy everything.
“What’s your opinion as my friend?” he asked.
“I want your thoughts first,” she said firmly.
He straightened himself. “The idea has potential, but I won’t go with it. Things are going great between Indy and I, and this could ruin everything. I don’t want to fake anything with her.”
Ava expelled a breath full of relief after a moment of silence. “I hoped you’d say that. Indy’s liked you for a while?—”
“She has?”
“God, you’re so blind. Yes, you imbecile. But I don’t think she’d like the idea of having you under the guise of pretending. With that being said, though, she’d do anything for you, so if dating for PR is something that you’d want, I’ll talk to her.”
His pulse was pounding against his temple, his blood roaring to life. He’d always thought Indy’s attraction for him was simply physical, but knowing it was deeper made him feel like an ass for the way he’d treated her.
Applying a much-needed pressure against his temple, he sighed. “I’m not cleaning my image by fake dating Indy.”
“But would you date her for real?”
Rubbing the back of his neck, he contemplated the question for a few beats. “I’m just letting time do its own thing.”
“You didn’t deny it,” Ava countered with a smile.
“Wipe that cheeky smile off your face.” He shrugged. “There’s no other girl like her, and I’m aware of that. I constantly think about her. But I’m not ready to be in a relationship.” Ava was probably the only person who knew about the way he felt. “I don’t think I can give her what she needs or be remotely close to being enough for her.”
“I know, and that’s okay. But don’t belittle yourself this way. You’re a good man, and I’m certain she sees it. I think you’ve been so used to people saying you’re kind of cold and that’s why you don’t see yourself as a caring person, but trust me, you’re kind and absolutely worthy of happiness.” The reassurance in her voice made him feel at peace. It would take him months, if not years, to believe that he was good. “Say you could date someone else for PR, though. A model, a celebrity? Is that something you’d?—?”
“No. Just drop the idea.”
She nodded. “Okay. Just wanted to make sure. I’m glad you don’t want to destroy yours and Indy’s friendship.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I don’t want to lose her.”
Admitting everything he’d just said should have scared him. Instead, peace simply threaded through his bloodstream—an indication that facing his sentiments wasn’t a cause for self-destruction.
Ava patted his shoulder and stood up. “Your secret’s safe with me, Miles.”
And damn him for opening up to his friend. Damn him for allowing himself to break, even for the sliver of truth he’d given. He would need to build his walls up again, because protecting his friendship with Indy was way more important than acting on his growing feelings for her.