Chapter Seventeen
Georgia
My brother gently elbowed my side, a reminder to drop the scowl.
“You heard that rumor, too,” Luca grinned, “I mean, can you blame me? With a smile that gorgeous and talent that enormous, it was pretty easy to see that Georgia is someone special.” The audience erupted into a symphony of oohs and ahhs, which Luca played into with a flick of his hand.
“I’m sure it wasn’t easy getting her brother’s approval, even if he is your teammate?” Josh gestured to Henri in the audience, who simply waved back with a crafty grin.
“Well, I was basically Georgia’s biggest fan from the day she signed her F1 contract.
I did my best to drop hints to Henri, but after preseason, I finally mustered up the courage to ask her out.
My teammate sort of joked that if I hurt his sister, he’d be sure to ram his car into mine—but I told him not to worry, Georgia would undeniably beat him to it.
She is the faster Dubois after all.” Henri scoffed, his arms crossed in annoyance, much to the audience’s amusement.
Good grief, I thought to myself. Had they practiced this?
“You know, I have to say, we were all kinds of shocked when we saw those photos of you two after her race win in Barcelona. Not to be rude, but we didn’t think you could pull such a lovely lady like Georgia.” A subtle insult if I’d ever heard one.
Just ask the real question, Josh, I mused to myself. How did Georgia Dubois manage to bag dashing playboy Luca Rossi?
If only they knew the truth.
“What? You saying she’s out of my league?
” Luca pretended to feign shock, an effort no one else in the crowd attempted to do.
“You know, Josh, I was as surprised as you were. You see, the rest of the world sees her as this quiet racer who only has eyes for winning, everything else be damned. But the Georgia I know? It couldn’t be further from the truth.
” My eyes flickered to the various exits as I contemplated which one provided the easiest escape in case I started to melt with embarrassment.
“Oh?” Josh motioned for Luca to continue. Charm oozed from Luca, and it was clear the audience around me was desperately hanging on to his every word. That was the thing about Luca, he really did have this uncanny ability to captivate your attention.
He leaned in closer to Josh. “Did you know Georgia loves to paint? I’m always telling her she needs to share her artwork with the fans.”
My cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, but to my surprise, I heard a few whispers of surprise behind me.
“Georgia is incredibly talented, and I keep telling her she needs to share some of her artwork during the next Grand Prix.” A silent dare from Luca.
Josh pointed at me, wagging his finger. “Well, then you’ll just have to make sure we get a glimpse next race!” Luca looked awfully smug as he winked at me on stage.
I offered a polite wave and the most neutral smile I could muster, something between “I love this man” and “I hope a rogue camera light falls on him.”
“Now, Luca, let’s talk about Miami. It was like you already knew she wasn’t feeling well. Fans have speculated that the teams put a radio for you to chat inside the cars. Any truth to that?”
“Are they having a laugh?” I muttered, earning me yet another nudge from Henri.
As if Valkyrie would allow me the extra weight so I could chat to my boyfriend.
Who did he think this team was run by, middle school girls?
The engineers weren’t about to add in relationship radios.
Luca shifted in his seat, trying to hide a bewildered smile.
“No, no, I don’t need anyone hearing me chatter to myself throughout the race. I think I’d be deemed insane.” His face slowly turned more serious, gaze fixed on his twiddling thumbs.
Henri leaned over, whispering, “Did you ever ask him why?”
“No.” A pathetic answer, because it was all I’d wanted to do since Miami.
Henri furrowed his brow, unimpressed with my response.
To be honest, I wasn’t impressed with myself either.
The cowardly part of me wasn’t sure I wanted to know how Luca had figured it out, because I knew it would force the even bigger question: what else had Luca noticed about me when I wasn’t paying attention?
But there was no avoiding the question now. Luca paused, his eyes flicking up like he was replaying something in his mind.
“When Georgia gets a podium finish, she immediately jumps out of the car, a huge smile on her face. Both of her arms go flying into the air, and she does this silly ‘window washing’ dance. It’s very adorable.
When she didn’t hop out of the car and start doing her dance, I just knew something was wrong. ”
The room went silent, just the soft rustle of jackets and shifting legs in the audience.
“If there’s something I know for certain about the Dubois siblings, it’s that they’re the first to congratulate each other. It doesn’t matter who’s won.”
The audience swooned all around me, but I didn’t move. Couldn’t move, shocked by Luca’s admission. Had he really noticed that about me? Thinking back to each race, I replayed all of the podiums in my head, thought back to each celebration.
Fuck. I did do that. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks.
Henri bumped my shoulder gently. Remembering to smile, I plastered one on before blowing Luca a kiss as I went through the motions of the dutiful girlfriend, all while contemplating how Luca had actually acted like a boyfriend in Miami. Not even my brother or engineer had noticed how unwell I was.
Just Luca.
“What a true gentleman,” Josh preened. “Well, we’re glad Georgia is alright, and we’re looking forward to watching the two of you fight it out on the racetrack this weekend.
This is our last question of the night, and then we’ll let you go.
Do you think your fights on track will affect your relationship at all?
You’re both title contenders this year. Has any animosity on the track spilled over to off-track drama? ”
Luca didn’t even hesitate. “Not at all. We’re both fierce competitors on the track, that’s true, but the fact is, every moment I spend with Georgia makes me a better athlete. Hell, even a better person.”
The crowd collectively sighed. I narrowed my eyes at him, silently daring him to turn this heartfelt moment into one of his patented Rossi jokes.
Anything to make these growing butterflies go away— anything to remind myself that Luca Rossi was nothing more than a fake boyfriend required to pull off this publicity stunt.
He threw me a coy smile before continuing, “Our fights on the track? They sharpen me. When we talk engineering over dinner, I learn. When we watch her favorite movie together—Pride & Prejudice, by the way—I find a calm that actually carries into my race weekends.”
He paused for effect, that damn signature Cheshire cat grin sliding onto his face.
“Plus, the more fighting we do on the track, the more making up we get to do off of it. Let’s just say, Josh, track fights definitely lead to late nights.”
I buried my face in my hands, dying. Henri muttered something like “unbelievable” under his breath. The room erupted in a mixture of applause and laughter, followed by a standing ovation. Josh rose from his chair to shake Luca’s hand, still chuckling.
Cocky, egotistical prick. I folded my arms, my eyes narrowing at Luca.
As the crowd started to disperse, Luca jumped down from the stage, calling out to me. “Like my interview, amore?”
“The only thing I’m going to be doing with my nights is sleeping,” I deadpanned. “Nora is not going to like that one.”
Luca snorted, his arms now wrapped around my waist. He kissed the top of my head as we waved at the departing fans who were eagerly snapping photos of us. His fingers softly massaged my neck, and I felt myself lean into his comforting hold, even though I was pissed.
Pissed that while Luca had ended his podcast with something ridiculous, the butterflies I’d felt a few moments ago hadn’t left— they’d gotten stronger. Despising the womanizing, egocentric Luca was easy, but this Luca? This wasn’t the Luca that I was used to.
I knew deep down that I was too much of a coward to face the possibility that another Luca was hiding under the one that had abandoned me on the date all those years ago, one that was perhaps observant, kind, and caring. A Luca who noticed my coffee order or the way I celebrated podiums.
Because if there was another side to him, then this whole week in Monza was going to be a lot harder than expected.
Back at the hotel, I kicked off my heels, flopped onto the couch, and told myself I’d only rest my eyes for a second. I probably shouldn’t have had that second glass of wine at the after-party, but technically, the race weekend hadn’t started yet, so I’d justified the rule break to myself.
I woke up groggy and disoriented with my dress halfway up my hips. A cough brought my attention to the doorway where Luca stood, a goofy smile on his face, and I frantically pulled my dress back down.
He strolled over, calm as ever. “Did you have fun at the podcast?” he asked casually, like we were two friends catching up. Here was Luca stalking towards me, pupils blown, the body language of a lion, and he wanted to have some casual chitchat.
“It was definitely amusing watching you lie your ass off.”
Luca was stood in front of me, gently stroking my cheek. The next thing I knew, I was in his lap, straddling him. His hands were on my waist, his body impossibly warm. My breath caught as his mouth hovered inches from mine.
“Who said I was lying?” he whispered.
Every part of me screamed to get up. Run. But I didn’t move. Not when his fingers brushed the hem of my dress, feeling the lace hidden underneath. Not when he leaned in even closer.
“Should have talked about you even more,” he said softly. “Definitely would’ve if I’d known you had this lovely little lace set on.”
My breath hitched. “Maybe if you hadn’t spent all day trying to annoy me, I would’ve told you I had a secret.”
“Oh?” His eyebrow arched, interest clearly piqued.
My cheeks grew hot, and I gnawed on my lower lip until it was puffy. Part of me knew I should go to bed, but another part wanted to find out what it was like to have Luca’s hands all over me, exploring every inch of me.
Why shouldn’t I reap the rewards of this fake relationship? I contemplated. It’s not like I could date someone else while I was fake dating Luca. Plus, after the podcast tonight, I’d seen a different side of Luca.
Luca watched me chew on my bottom lip, and finally leaned in for a slow, passionate kiss, which I greedily returned.
He gently let his hands work their way up and down my body until one of his hands began to fiddle with the waistband of my thong.
He looked at me, silently asking permission to let his fingers play with their target, like a cat playing with its food before dinner.
I eagerly nodded for him to continue, guiding his hand deeper as I licked my lips in anticipation.
His fingers slid down as they started to slowly stroke where I desperately wanted him most. Feeling how wet I was, Luca let one finger tease its way into me.
I moaned, trying to push my hips down further, but his other arm wrapped around my waist, caging me against him.
“Ah, ah, ah, not so fast,” he smirked. I groaned in frustration, but Luca continued his teasing. He allowed me some reprieve when he sunk his entire finger into me and started pumping in and out. Even if it was slow and excruciating, it felt incredible.
My moans fortunately earned me a second finger, which Luca started to pump even faster. His lips ghosted mine while he eagerly watched my every expression, curling his fingers in just the right spot. I could feel myself careering towards an orgasm, and I started moaning louder.
“Oh, Luca… more… please…” I begged, a little embarrassed at how quickly I had fallen apart for him. Smirking, he slipped a third finger inside of me, enjoying the moan that escaped my lips.
“Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me, taking my fingers like this,” he purred into my ear.
I’m not sure if it was his soft praises or the fact that he’d picked up the pace, but I was now hurtling towards a mind-numbing orgasm.
Reaching my high, I screamed his name, tumbling quickly into intense pleasure as Luca helped me ride out my orgasm.
All of a sudden, everything stopped.
It felt as though my body had been thrust from a heavenly dream, and instead of being on top of Luca’s lap in our shared living room, having just received an incredible orgasm, Luca was standing in front of me, quirking an eyebrow at me with a silent question, his cocky Cheshire cat grin on his lips.
Shit, shit, shit. Had I just dreamt that?
My cheeks were burning, and I knew I couldn’t hide the panicked look on my face.
“Everything alright?” he asked, one brow cocked, voice deliciously amused.
“Um… yeah… of-of course, why wouldn’t it be?” I responded far too quickly. “Just fell asleep on the couch while watching TV.” Luca glanced at the television, which was off, and simply smiled before turning back to me.
Such a moron, Georgia.
“Of course, sorry I woke you. You were just calling out to… someone, and I wasn’t sure if you were having a nightmare.” If Luca had truly thought I was having a nightmare, he wouldn’t have said that last retort with a grin that could have given the devil a run for its money.
I straightened up, mortified. “Was just dreaming about this weekend’s podium.”
“Oh, well, that makes sense as to why you were calling out my name then.” He grinned. “Assuming you were congratulating me on getting first place?”
I don’t think that, in the history of my twenty-five years, my cheeks had ever gone that red.
For the first time in this fake relationship, I was absolutely dumbfounded.
Still, I wouldn’t be myself if I didn’t make sure to get the last word in, so I got off the couch with as much gusto as I could manage and looked Luca right in the eye.
“Quite the opposite. I figured since your hands were empty, you could help me carry my trophy.” Before he could respond, I headed straight for my room and closed the door loudly. Forget taking my makeup off, I wasn’t coming out of this room until I absolutely had to.