3 #4
I start nodding. Slowly. Still terrified. But listening. "And his engine has to think. Computers, systems, traction control. Sure, it’s fast, but it needs perfect conditions." He taps his bike behind him. "Mine moves the second I twist the grip. No delay. No bullshit."
I hate that he’s right, because I’m scared but he makes total sense.
"And braking?" he adds. "I stop faster. WAY faster. In a race like this, that’s everything. If he brakes late, he slides. If I brake late, my bike listens to me." He glances back at the Ferrari, then at me again. "So yeah, he’s strong. But I’m quicker, lighter, better. I can weave through space he doesn’t even fit in. "
He shrugs. I exhale. "Come on. You’ve seen me ride, Rava," he says softly. "You know I can beat him. Easy."
I let out a long breath. Then another. And another.
"Okay, I trust you." He nods, relieved, then grins and kisses me quickly. "Go get a front-row spot," he says against my lips. "I want you to see me win. And reward me after."
I laugh, finally standing up. "I like the spirit," I tell him. "I’m going." Gio heads off with Lorenzo right behind him and I push my way through the crowd. People shove me and I shove back, always with gentle, polite shoves, because I don’t want to die tonight. I somehow manage to squeeze up close enough to see everything. There are giant screens overhead so all of us peasants who aren’t behind a wheel can follow every turn.
Gio walks straight toward Escobar. I watch them talk.
Well… Gio talks. Escobar just glares. He looks pissed for absolutely no reason. Why would you be angry at someone you want to race? What’s the logic?
Shouldn’t you be like "yeah man let’s have fun"?
Not "I hope you die so I look cool"?
They shake hands and even the handshake feels hostile. Great. I hate him already. The race hasn’t even started yet and everyone around me transforms into animals.
They are shouting. They are screaming. They are jumping. Gio’s circle is fun, chaotic, but some of the randoms here look like they stab innocent people for entertainment I swear.
Not gonna lie though, watching him in gear, that focused?
Holy shit.
Two young guys go first, barely nineteen. They race hard to the point they almost crash, but they hug each other after the race.
Now it’s Gio’s turn. I’m sweating bullets. Not because I think he’ll lose, hell no.
Because Escobar looks like a feral street goblin who wants Gio dead. He’s giving murder energy. Zero softness. Just "I have anger issues and drive expensive things."
They honk horns. Crowd goes wild.
Lorenzo is perched on his bike in the corner. "WHOOP HIS ASS, GIOVANNI," he screams.
The crowd yells back.
Gio spots me. He waves.
My heart does a back flip.
Then he shuts his visor.
The girl in front raises the flags. Everyone goes dead quiet.
Three. Two. One.
Flags drop. They explode forward. The whole crowd lurches with them as if we’re all tied to invisible ropes.
I grip the metal barrier in front of me just so I don’t start ripping my own hair out from the stress. Gio takes the lead for exactly half a second, then Escobar swerves way too close, forcing Gio to pull back unless he wants to lose a leg immediately.
"HEY!" I yell out loud. "HE DID THAT ON PURPOSE!"
The guy next to me laughs. "Yeah, man. It’s underground. Anything goes."
"Anything?!"
I’m offended.
Escobar cuts Gio off again, this time almost pushing him onto the sideline. I jab the elbow of the dude on my other side.
"Is THAT allowed?!"
"Yep." He shrugs. "Dirty racing is normal. If you complain, they’ll hit harder."
Great. Wonderful. Let me just go vomit in a bush.
The Ferrari sends a burst of acceleration and gains distance. My heart sinks. Gio stays on him though, with zero panic.
Every time Escobar tries something shady, Gio moves with this impossible precision, slipping away.
He’s not shook at all. I’m dying. He’s having the time of his life. The first tight turn comes fast. Escobar brakes late, tries to slide the back of the car out to block the road, but Gio does exactly what he told me earlier.
He leans in and cuts the angle so sharply I gasp out loud. He hugs the inside line and for the first time he actually fucking gets ahead.
The crowd roars. I nearly cry from relief. Then Escobar hits him with another cheap move. Shady bitch accelerates just enough to try and force Gio off balance on the next straight.
Gio’s bike shakes a little. I freak out. "IS THAT LEGAL?!" "YES," the same guys answer in unison.
"How?!"
"IT JUST IS!"
I want to pass out.
But then Gio’s plan starts to unfold exactly like he explained. Escobar’s Ferrari speeds up but it takes too long to react because it’s too heavy, too fucking slow in the turns.
Gio slices past him again, this time smoother. He ducks low and slips through the tiniest pocket of space on the track. He’s in front now. For real this time. Escobar floors it.
Gio just nods his head like yeah, I expected you to do that, asshole, and pulls away with this terrifying confidence.
Someone has to pick up my jaw, because wow. He’s actually doing it. He’s beating the giant red demon. The crowd is losing their minds. "Holy shit… holy shit holy shit, he’s winning," I say, grabbing my hair.
The second they hit the final stretch my whole body leans forward like I’m the one steering the damn bike. Gio is in front. Exactly like he promised. Exactly like he told me he could.
Please, Gio, just finish. Please, before I pass out. He pushes more throttle. I can hear it even from here. I clench my fists. Here he comes.
When he crosses the line, I launch myself into the air.
I scream so loud half the crowd jumps. I accidentally smack someone.
People around me start cheering with me, howling like wild animals because he did it. Lorenzo bolts straight toward me and basically throws himself on top of me.
I stumble back a step and catch him and then we’re hugging and jumping up and down like two escaped mental patients, laughing so hard I can’t even breathe.
Everyone’s staring at us and laughing.
Lorenzo throws an arm around me and physically turns me to face them. "THAT’S HIS BOYFRIEND!"
My heart stops.
The stranger blinks. "No shit?"
"No shit!" Lorenzo crows. "Look at his face. You think he screamed like that for fun?"
I nearly choke. "He’s not my boyfriend."
Lorenzo doesn’t even look at me. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, tesoro." He winks. And I die.
Gio climbs off the bike, rips his helmet off, and actually starts running toward us, all excited, pushing through bodies like they’re air, eyes locked on me like I’m the finish line.
I’m pretty sure he didn’t even turn the engine off.
Amazing. Environmental king. I laugh and a second later he crashes straight into me and we’re just standing there laughing like idiots in the middle of all the noise.
He goes straight for my mouth before I even catch my breath. I kiss him back just as hard, fingers digging into his neck a little more than necessary.
Not my fault. He shouldn’t be this hot.
And the fact he’s doing this in front of so many people makes it even hotter.
He’s not shy about it at all. He doesn’t care who’s watching or what they think, he just makes it very clear he’s focused on me.
His hand finds my wrist and he starts dragging me away from the crowd.
He pushes through bodies and I shuffle behind him, mumbling "sorry, excuse me, sorry" to everyone he shoulder-checks.
We end up in a corner behind someone’s car and he pins me there, mouth on mine again. I kiss him back then pull away just enough to talk.
"What if the owner comes and yells at us for making out on their car?"
He smiles, arrogant as hell.
"I’ll buy it so we can make out on my car."
I snort and he kisses me again, laughing into my mouth.
"How was I?" he mumbles against my lips.
"My screaming didn’t give you a hint?" I shoot back. He looks fucking possessed. "Didn’t know you could cheer that loud," he mutters.
"Didn’t know you could make me," I fire back, trying to sound smug.
"Can you do it in bed, too? Please?" He’s so close our mouths are basically sharing the same air. "Bent over this time. I wanna see your back tattoo."
I smile against his lips and bite his lip ring. "I can," I murmur. His eyes flicker a little at that.
"Too bad we’re not in your room right now," I add, letting my fingers slide down and rub lightly over his dick through his pants.
His gaze drops, then lifts back up to mine. "Let’s go home."
"What, already?" I protest.
"They’ll survive without me," he says, already shoving his way back through the crowd toward the bikes.
I follow behind him, nodding at everyone who claps his shoulder or tells him "nice run" or "you killed it."
Yeah, yeah. You get to touch him for two seconds. He’s the one touching me later.
He stops by Lorenzo. "We’re heading out," he says. Lorenzo nods, still talking to Paulo, barely looking over. "At least TRY not to break the bed!" he shouts.
"Lorenzo!"
…
We are two seconds away from getting caught again.
Gio parks the bike just far enough down the road, killing the engine with surgical precision, and now we are running, laughing like fucking delinquents who stole a goddamn Ferrari.
"Shhh!" I hiss, gripping his shirt, yanking him back behind a bush.
"You’re the one laughing!" he whispers.
"You’re the one with the loud ass giggle!"
"It’s not a giggle. It’s stress—"
"It’s horny panic." I smack his arm and he grabs my wrist, pulls me into him, and kisses me fast.
"My dad is literally on the fucking balcony. Right now. If he looks left—"
Gio peeks around the bush and freezes. "…Shit. That is your dad." He turns back to me slowly, grinning. "I’m gonna fuck you ten meters away from your father’s espresso," he whispers.
"Dude!" I shove him hard.
We’re choking on our own laughter, trying to stay quiet and failing miserably. "Okay," he whispers, breathless. "Plan B."
He leads me around the side of the house, through a row of hedges, to the back fence.
"Climb."
"What?"
He kneels down and laces his fingers together. "Climb, pretty boy. I’ll boost you."
"You’re out of your mind—"
"Yeah. For you. Now move."
I step into his hands and push myself up, grabbing onto a wooden ledge above the back gate. My foot slips. My chest hits the edge. I grunt, very unsexily, and flop over into the backyard like a fucking bag of laundry.
"Shit!" Gio hisses. "You good?"
I am on the grass, face down, wheezing.
"I landed like a watermelon," I say. He snorts so hard I think he’ll fall over. I roll onto my back and look up at the stars. "I hate you."
He swings himself over the fence, drops beside me, and kisses my forehead. "No you don’t."
"Lies."
And then he kisses me again, this time slower. Sweeter. His hand slips under my shirt. "Let’s get inside before your dad sees me sucking your soul out."
We manage to sneak in through the back door.
And the second the door clicks shut, the tension snaps.