Chapter 34
AIR GAP: CLEAR TRACK SPACE FOR CLEAN LAPS
There’s a moment, right before crossing the finish line, where nothing matters but the car. The track. The decision to trust what’s in front of me instead of what might go wrong.
I took the last corner clean. I hear her voice—practically a whisper compared to Dario and the rest of the pit crew, who are losing their proverbial minds.
Christin’s muted, “Now,” penetrates. It urges me to drive the way I know I can.
Still, after I cross the line, when the checkered flag waves, it doesn’t register all at once.
I can’t believe I did it.
We did it.
My chest tightens hard, something sharp and unfamiliar pushing up through everything I’ve spent years controlling.
First place at Silverstone.
Yet the first thing I think isn’t about the podium but about how much I love Christin and want to celebrate with her. After I pull in, my hands stay on the wheel for a second longer so I can steady myself before removing the steering wheel from my car and climbing out.
Already, the celebration is loud. Champagne, noise, hands on my shoulders, voices overlapping in a way that usually feels like validation. Today, it feels like something I’m wading through.
Because I’m looking for her.
Dario gets hold of me first. After sweeping me up in a bear hug, he makes a crack that causes me to throw my head back and laugh. “You finally listened.”
“Occasionally, I do that.”
His hand lands on my shoulder, firm and grounding. “I’m proud of you, Leo.”
His words settle in my chest, taking up the empty places my family left. I pull him back in for another sweaty hug. When I let him go, I’m already looking past him for Christin.
That’s when I spot her. She’s standing beside her father with the brightest smile I’ve ever seen and tears streaming down her face.
The second our eyes meet, I’m back in a different kind of blur.
The celebration around me fades. I start in her direction, not caring that her father is right next to her wearing Apex colors.
The second she’s within reach, I scoop her into my arms before spinning her around. At some point, Christin drops her tablet as I make a spectacle of us both while the press swarms in.
That’s when I let her slide down my body before I catch her face in both hands and kiss the shit out of her. It’s not controlled. It’s every feeling I’ve denied myself breaking free—relief, gratitude, love with a healthy shot of victory.
She laughs against my mouth before kissing me back just as hard, her fingers gripping the front of my suit like she needs to anchor herself to something real. “You did it. You won Silverstone,” she breathes when I pull back. Her smile is still enormous through the tears.
I disagree with her. Shaking my head slightly, I’m unable to prevent the grin on my face when I answer, “We did it.”
Her eyes search mine, like she’s looking for confirmation of something other than the win. Her voice trembles when she whispers, “You trusted it.”
I correct her, “I trusted you.”
I see the way my words affect her by the way her expression softens.
Christin leans into me again, one hand still fisted in my suit as if she has no intention of letting go.
“Good,” she murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear.
“Because I’m interested in building something else you should believe in. ”
I huff out a quiet laugh, brushing my thumb along her cheek to catch the last of her tears. “That makes two of us.”
The crowd surges closer, voices rising, cameras flashing—but none of it touches us. Because for the first time, this doesn’t feel like the end.
It feels like the start of something I actually get to keep.
Tonight is the perfect way to celebrate a race.
After the press conference and team celebration, Dario drags me away from the spectacle with a promise I’ll be available to answer questions tomorrow.
But that’s tomorrow’s problem. Tonight, I’m in a Michelin-starred restaurant with the man I consider family, the woman I love, and her father. Just the four of us together.
Lewis remarks on my progress since the beginning of the season. As he’s cutting his veal, he says, “Wins aside, that second place in Austria was impressive driving.”
I reach across the table and take Christin’s hand as I jerk my chin up to Lewis. “Apparently, I can learn from my mistakes.”
Lewis chuckles. Christin’s face is riddled with amusement, like she’s tracking the number of ways her father can insinuate I was an idiot under the guise of complimenting my driving.
Instead of continuing the conversation, I lift her fingers to my lips.
“Yes, I was stupid, and I know it’s always going to haunt me. ”
She laughs before squeezing my fingers and releasing them to pick up her fork.
Lewis leans across to mutter under his breath, “You’re holding up better than I expected.”
“High praise.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
Lewis’s gaze flicks to Christin, softening in a way that I used to yearn for, then back to me. “I look forward to spending some time with you, Leo, when you’re not traveling for the circuit.”
There’s weight to his words, though they are not quite the seal of approval I was hoping for. Not yet. It’s an invitation to show him I’m worth his daughter’s heart. I answer honestly, “I’d like that.”
Christin’s gaze shifts between us, something settling into her expression—quiet, content, like she’s watching two parts of her life finally exist in the same space without conflict.
For the first time, I don’t feel as though I’m falling short. I feel like I’ve been given the opportunity to prove I belong.
After Lewis insists on paying before he retires to his room, Dario grins. “Well, that was fun. For me at least.”
Christin rolls her eyes, but there’s warmth in their depths.
“The two of you, get out of here,” Dario orders. “I’ll see you both in the morning for debrief.”
I don’t wait for him to say it twice.
I surge to my feet and walk around the table, calling goodnight to Dario as I guide Christin out for our own private celebration.