Chapter 19
Molly
When I approach the Star News team, Jessica is ready and waiting.
She wastes no time, grabbing my hand and dragging me inside the editor’s room.
“Girl, I leave you for a week, and it seems like you’ve lived a whole life without me,” she says, and I feel dazed thinking back at the week I’ve had.
She’s right in many ways.
I do feel like I’ve experienced quite a lot in the last seven days.
We sit down, Jessica seemingly well-prepared for this chat with an iced coffee for both of us.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” I tell her.
“The last I heard was the whole fake-dating charity gala thing, so starting somewhere after that seems to be a good place to start.”
I do as she suggests and start with the whole fake-dating proposal from my dad, who obviously had no clue his daughter was already hot for his driver.
She’s already heard parts of this over the phone the day after the gala, but I’ve kept the newer developments hidden, waiting for her to get back and be able to tell her in person.
Telling Jessica about Peter’s dad simply isn’t my story to tell, so I adjust the story slightly, respecting his privacy, even though it makes me feel bad for lying to her.
I tell her that attending the gala gave Peter the final push to make a real move, and the rest is history as you say.
It’s not too far from the truth, and all the glory details of our last days together are enough to make Jessica swoon.
“Who knew he could be such a romantic?”
Tell me about it.
It’s still the same Peter, but once those walls came down and he could embrace our connection, he’s been remarkable.
It may have started as a way for him to show that he’s willing to try to be a man worthy of love, but it’s been there all along.
He just hasn’t been able to allow himself the luxury until now.
At first, I was a little nervous that the other shoe would drop, and he would wake up and kick me to the curb solely because he’s not used to handing over any control.
But once he realised I’m not here to take anything away from him, but rather to try to provide support and comfort, he’s been soaking it up.
Once the sex was implemented, we were both doomed.
Having something so good is worth holding on to.
It’s more than just the physical connection that grows for every touch and glance.
His description of us being intense together has magnified, but rather than running away from the overwhelming feelings, we meet each other halfway and treasure it.
“Gosh. I’m happy for you girl. You deserve this.”
Once we’re all done with our girlfriend talk, it’s time for us to get back to work.
Nothing like the action of a race weekend.
～
I’m working away at the computer when the door to the office opens, and I know before I see him that it’s Peter.
The tingling around this man is ever-growing, but I’m not mad about it.
He comes right over, and before I get out a greeting, he pulls me to him, kissing me hungrily.
I haven’t seen him since yesterday; we were both busy with work until late in the evening.
He insisted on coming to my bus, but I said no. He’s a professional athlete who shouldn’t spend his nights cramped up in a tiny bed.
I would have gone to his hotel if I finished earlier, but we had some technical issues that took way longer than I anticipated.
Peter grabs a hold of my thighs, lifting me up and pressing me up against the wall as he continues kissing me.
I grab his hair, pulling him to me as I grind my body against his.
Suddenly, the door opens, and we stop our kiss, but he’s still holding me up against the wall, my hands in his hair and his on my ass.
Steve comes in and chuckles when he sees the scene in front of him. I feel the blush rise in my cheeks and lay my head in the crook of Peter’s shoulder.
Talk about déjà vu.
Steve and his impeccable timing.
“I’m just grabbing a lens.” Just as quickly as he arrived, Steve is out the door and gone.
Peter starts laughing, and I follow suit.
“Christ, he must think we’re sex addicts,” I say.
Peter wiggles his brows. “Aren’t we?”
We start laughing again, and he eventually lets me down before he sits down in the chair I was working in, with me in his lap.
“Today I’m not taking no as an answer. You’ll either come to my hotel, or I’ll sleep in your tiny bed.”
“Missed me that much, casanova?”
“Yeah, I’ve become a cuddler, it seems.”
After today’s Qualifying, Peter will start tomorrow in P3.
Being well rested and ready is crucial for these drivers. One split second of being unfocused can cost you the race or a good result.
“I’ll come to your hotel. Can’t have your body all cramped up from sleeping badly.”
I’ve quickly become like Jessica, spending most nights with my man, who isn’t my man just yet.
If he asks to be my boyfriend, I will say yes.
He’s earned that title and more, but I do enjoy seeing him work for it.
Teasing him about rejecting me always leads to some explosive sex as he gets frustrated for ever saying no to anything.
At the same time, I’m really happy it developed as it did.
If we slept together without him opening up, it would probably be even more challenging for him.
It may have been a rocky road leading here, but for us, it feels just right.
～
I’m watching the screens, biting my nails as Peter and the other drivers battle it out on track.
Just ten more laps.
If he manages to secure his current position in P3, he will be leading the championship.
“Come on, baby,” I mutter quietly, not keen on the other people in the trailer hearing me.
I know most of my team has seen me around Peter as he’s a very affectionate man who doesn’t care for an audience. Still, I do want to maintain some professionalism in my work, which means I can’t cheer for him as loudly as I would like when I’m at work.
Five more laps.
When Peter starts closing in on the driver in front of him, I nearly groan out loud.
He doesn’t need to advance; he just needs to stay right where he is.
That will be enough.
But no, of course, he wants to push himself to the limits.
I get that but help me God if that results in a crash and him not getting the lead.
Peter is an aggressive driver, which usually results in him advancing up the grid. Other times, he’ll crash if he takes too much of a risk or a driver thinks he won’t take the chance to pass.
I’m really hoping this isn’t one of those instances.
When they turn the last corner and start speeding down the main straight, I hold my breath. As Peter is under a second behind, he activates the DRS and pulls up on the side of his competitor. He passes him right before the first corner, sending him up into P2.
Christ.
He did it.
Now he just needs to finish these last few laps, and this lead will be his.
The leader is over four seconds ahead, so Peter won’t be able to catch up to him, but he’s still done a marvellous race.
When he crosses the finish line, I let out a breath, the pride swelling in my chest.
The “New Championship Leader” banner appears when they cut to Peter driving, his race engineer congratulating him over the radio.
When my father’s voice rings out, the emotion is evident as he tells Peter how proud he is of him.
I feel my own emotions welling up, knowing just how much Peter has gone through and how my father was one of the first people to give him a chance for a long time.
The two have formed a beautiful partnership, and I wipe away the singular tear that’s gathered in the corner of my eye.
I can’t wait to meet up with them later.