Chapter 16
JESSICA
The weekend in the editor’s room was good, but I’m ready to get back behind the camera with Steve and Andrew by my side.
I’ve been thinking about Luke looking for me and wondering if he just happened to pass by and ask for me or went out of his way to come see me.
Since I didn’t want to cause any suspicion, I wasn’t able to ask Andrew more about it, leaving me with more questions than answers.
I had hoped to catch some of the action in the paddock after the Bahrain race, but I was tied up with responsibilities to the editors.
The whole week drags on, my mood matching the sad, grey weather in Japan.
I’ve thought about Luke and our fight more times than I can count over the last two weeks.
Did I overreact?
Was I too quick to assume the worst?
Should I have done anything differently?
I’ve gone so many rounds with myself, but I still keep reaching the same conclusion.
We could never work.
Luke is right about my insecurities. I wouldn’t be able to handle everything that comes with his lifestyle, always fearing the next big story. He doesn’t deserve someone who will quiver at every gossip story, wondering if I’ll be enough for someone like him.
Additionally, I work in F1 and frequently see him. It’s better to cut it short and try to move on before I get truly hurt.
Having some space this past race weekend showed that it’s possible to keep some distance, even if it felt like I was hiding at times.
The last part of me, the part of me I’ve tried to contain and stop from emerging, hopes that we would make it right between us again.
As much as I try to tell myself that I wouldn’t be able to handle the life of Luke and all the challenges relating to my internship, deep down, I know I would take the chance if it arose. The feelings may scare me, but they also make me feel more alive and daring than I’ve ever been before.
I told myself that I would make this adventure the most in every way, and that includes another chance with a man with beautiful hazel eyes.
◆◆◆
We are setting up our interview spot on Thursday, before the drivers’ press conference at Suzuka. I’ve been assigned to stay in the interview zone while Andrew goes to the press conference, so I’ll hopefully get to interview one of the drivers myself.
Even though Luke and I are over, I cling to the notebook he gave me.
It’s perfect, and although it reminds me of him, I couldn’t part with it. It’s sleek and beautiful, and I’ve been putting it to good use.
It’s become my own little journal of this whole adventure.
The interview zone is getting more hectic, and just when I think we won’t be able to land a driver interview, someone calls Peter Centimo over to our spot.
I prepare my questions as he approaches with a lazy smile. His eyes travel up and down my body, and I clear my throat.
“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you, beautiful. My name is Peter.” He takes my hand, kisses the top of it, and I have to shake my head with a small smile at his clichéd introduction.
He stood me and Molly up last weekend and left his team to deal with his absence, so I’m not all that impressed with him.
Still, I’m flattered that he called me beautiful.
“I’m Jessica. Nice to meet you,” I tell him, and he drops my hand before we start the interview.
We discuss his championship lead and whether he believes he will maintain his position at the top this weekend.
Peter speaks with arrogance, and I almost roll my eyes at some of his comments about the weekend in Baku. He presents himself as the one who was in the lead the entire weekend, when everyone knows that Luke was the top driver the whole time and only lost because of a failed strategy.
Peter doesn’t talk about the race weekend in Bahrain; he’s probably been told to keep quiet about the whole thing.
He struggled all weekend and ended up in P12.
After the race, he exploded on a reporter who asked a tough question, and the media had a field day covering the story of the “Bad boy driver losing his temper once again.”
The media loves the dramatic stories of drivers losing their composure in front of the camera, so Peter certainly provides the media with enough fuel for the following week.
“Could I get your—” Peter is interrupted by the man who holds the key to all my feelings. I feel my heart pounding in my chest as Luke steps into our interview zone, looking as gorgeous as ever.
“I believe it’s time for my interview, Miss Edwards,” he says, and my heart skips a beat at the sight of his gorgeous smile again.
All the feelings I’ve pushed down come rushing back as soon as my eyes land on his. Peter huffs and narrows his eyes at Luke, but disappears into the paddock.
“I didn’t know we had planned an interview, Mr. Hastings.” I tease him back using the same formal name he used for me, and for a moment, I think maybe we will be fine.
Maybe everything will be okay after all.
He motions to the side for more privacy, and we step out.
“Like hell an asshole like him will get your number before I do,” Luke says, and I chuckle.
I missed him more than I realized.
“Look, Jessica, I know you probably don’t want to see me again, and I’m sorry my temper got the best of me back in Baku. It was a rough day, but I should’ve never taken it out on you. I went looking for you so many times last weekend, but you were never here.”
My heart warms, and I stop him before he can keep apologizing when I know I’m also in the wrong.
I take one of his hands with both of mine and look up into his eyes.
“I’m the one who should apologize. I stumbled on the first hurdle, and I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.
I feel so overwhelmed by everything around you and your life that I can’t always see where I’ll fit into all of this, or even if that’s something you would want,” I tell him, revealing my worries, and he squeezes my fingers.
“How about I pick you up when I’m done with the media and my meeting with my agent, then we’ll go somewhere and talk?” I nod, and he slowly leans in and kisses my cheek, lingering a little before stepping back.
“See you later, princess,” and he’s gone.
◆◆◆
An hour later, I’m in Luke’s car, and we’re heading to his hotel to get something to eat and talk. He parks in the underground garage and helps me out of the car.
“How come your car was in Azerbaijan two weeks ago and now it’s here in Japan?” I ask him, and he keeps a hold of my hand while we start walking toward the elevator.
“It’s transported together with the Formula cars and everything we need each race weekend,” he tells me matter-of-factly.
“Some perks you have going on, hotshot,” I wink at him, as he shakes his head at me. He presses the button to the elevator, and his thumb strokes my hand the entire ride up.
When the elevator doors open, we step inside what I assume is the penthouse suite. It opens into a living room with a giant couch and a sitting area facing a flat-screen TV. The kitchen area extends to the right, and an elderly man with a kind smile greets us.
“You must be Jessica!” he says to me with a genuine smile, his eyes crinkling warmly at the corners. I walk over to him, feeling a little nervous but reassured by his friendly presence.
“Hi, yes, I’m Jessica. Nice to meet you,” I say.
“I’m Robert, the personal chef of the golden boy over there,” he replies, his voice soothing and approachable.
“I’m glad to meet you, Jessica. Luke has been pretty moody the last few weeks, and I have a feeling the sudden mood change is all because of you.” He gestures to Luke with a gentle smile.
“If you’re all done pretending, I’m not here. I want to show Jessica something.” Luke jokes softly, a teasing glint in his eyes as he gently takes my hand again.
He guides me toward a set of elegant double doors, their polished wood gleaming subtly in the soft light.
We step into the master bedroom, and I gasp at its breathtaking beauty.
The room is a perfect blend of modern luxury and cozy charm, golden accents shimmer against deep, warm shades of red and brown, creating an inviting atmosphere that feels more like a welcoming home than a hotel.
Large windows dominate one wall, offering a spectacular view of the city skyline, the lights twinkling like stars.
I walk over and stand quietly, gazing out at the cityscape, feeling a sense of awe and peace.
“It’s beautiful here,” I whisper softly, a content smile forming on my lips.
I sense Luke approaching from behind, his presence making me feel electric. He slowly raises his hands and gently rests them on my shoulders, providing comfort and connection as we share the breathtaking view.
We stand there in silence before I feel the warmth of his arms, circling around my stomach. It hasn’t even been two weeks since I was in his arms, but it still feels like too long, like an ache that hasn’t quite gone away.
I gaze up into his eyes, searching for a hint of what he’s feeling, and can’t help but press my lips softly to his, tasting the quiet anticipation lingering between us.
When I pull back slightly, Luke goes right back in, his hand gentle but firm on my waist, dragging me closer as if to make sure I stay within his reach.
My hands explore all around him, his chest, back, shoulders, and into his hair. The kiss becomes more frantic, with our tongues twisting and the tension rising quickly.
My hand slips inside his shirt, and I run a finger over his waistband. Luke pulls back, resting his forehead against mine, breathing hard.
“We should talk.”
Yes. Talk. That’s why we went into his room, to talk.
What did we even have to talk about again?
My lust-filled brain can’t even remember why we had to speak.
“Talk later?” I say with a smile, leaning in to kiss him again. He kisses me back, but then pulls away, making me pout at him. He chuckles at me.