Page 112 of Away We Go

It’s race day and Nicky is insisting we arrive at the track together. Over the last few days, we’d maintained a business-like distance between us, with me doing my little job and him out there getting pole position and being a superstar.

But after being apart from each other for seventy-two whole hours, Nicky had had enough. Late into the evening last night, he’d knocked on my door, walked right in and didn’t leave again until this morning. And that was only to get dressed and ready. Then he came back to take me to the track.

“We’re not supposed to be hiding this,” he’d said as he dragged me along behind him to the car where James was waiting for us. “The whole point of putting out that statement was so that we can be together out there. In public.”

It was cute how determined he was to be with me, to not care what anyone says or thinks about us. But he’s also not the one facing all the judgemental stares and nasty side comments.

Those have been saved for me.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask, sitting on my hands so I don’t wring my fingers.

Our car is stopped outside the back entrance of the track, and I can already glimpse the crowd of press and fans waiting for him.

Thisis what he wants us to walk into together?

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” he says after a long look at me, his eyes lingering on my hands under my thighs.

“No,” I shake my head. It’s time to pull my big-girl panties up. “It’s fine.”

He hesitates before opening the door and helping me out of the car with his hand in mine. We’ve barely taken two steps when the crowd swarms around us. This is the VIP area, so these fans I know have paid for the privilege of having this sort of access to the drivers, but it still doesn’t feel safe.

“Nicky? Over here.”

Phones are stuck in front of our faces as we slow walk our way towards the team headquarters. Nicky stops every few steps to take a selfie with a lucky fan, and as I get pushed further behind him, Irelease a relieved breath, happy to hang back and fade into the background with James.

“Can we get a photo of the two of you?”

This request comes from one of the official F1 photographers, Fiona. I know this because she’s someone I’d consider a friend. And she’d asked nicely.

Nicky turns and puts his arm around my back, drawing me up next to him. “Smile,” he whispers into my ear as three billion cameras go off at the same time. “Pretend you like me.”

I know I’m standing stiffly, but I can’t help it. This is awkward and weird. And all I can think about are the comments that will flood in on every site once these photos are posted.

“I do like you,” I mutter under my breath. “I’m not too sure about them.”

He chuckles, looking more amused than anything else, and I wonder if this is the shot that will get shared with the world. The one where I’m looking uncomfortable and he thinks it’s funny.

Hmmm, not looking forward to seeing those comments either.

“Nicky! You’re so close to sealing the title early this year. How are you feeling about this second half of the season?”

I pull away from him and slink back into the background again. Nicky frowns at me before turning around to answer the question. He’s got full confidence he’ll be clinching the title as early as Singapore. Only four races from now.

“And what about you, Cherry?” I flinch at hearing my name called out. “How does it feel to lock down the hottest man in Formula 1?”

Nicky growls in front of me and I feel James tense beside me. They both know how inappropriate this question is, but in lieu of cursing this reporter out and stomping away, there’s nothing much we can do about it.

“If you ask me, I’m the lucky one. Convincing her to give me a shot,” Nicky answers while James nudges me off to the side. The door to our freedom from this mob is just a few steps away, and I only just hold myself back from racing through it.

“Are you okay?” James asks as we step inside. I take in a shaky breath and nod. That hadn’t been so bad, but it hadn’t felt amazing either. Being the girlfriend of a professional athlete is going to take some getting used to.

“Cherry?”

I turn to see Nicky looking at me. Flicking my eyes away from his intense ones, I wobble out a smile.

“I’m good,” I lie, unable to have him feeling badly for me. Or because of me. “It’s fine.”

He frowns and shakes his head. “It will—”

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