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“You shouldn’t have gotten involved in my business,” she points out, crossing her arms in front of her chest and scowling at me. My tongue swipes over my bottom lip as I lower my head and close the distance between us.
“Your health and happiness are my business, Nevaeh,” I say, and the frown on her lips fades as her cheeks turn pink. The urge to reach out and run my fingers over her freckles, count them so I know how many dust the bridge of her nose and cheeks, is overwhelming. “Plus, this was to make sure he doesn’t disobey labor laws again. Really getting involved in your business would have been me ‘convincing’ him to drop the no-dating-the-drivers rule,” I go on, watching her bite down on the inside of her cheek.
“You can do that?”The corners of my mouth curl into a smile before I can stop them.
She’s watching my mouth again. Always watching my lips like she can’t wait for me to kiss her. And I want to kiss her. I want to so fucking badly that I can’t think of anything better I could do right now. I want to press her up against that wall behind her and explore her mouth until her knees buckle. Until I have to hold her up by pressing my body against hers and she’s whimpering into my mouth how good I feel.
“Do you want me to?” I ask.
Her brown-blonde hair flies a little as she moves her head to the side to laugh, and I get lost in the thought of running my fingers through it, wrapping it around my fist, and tugging on it.
Fuck. Me.
“I think it’s best if we focus on the weekend for now.” She’s overwhelmed. I can see it in her eyes, so I don’t push. I’d never push her when she’s already all over the place because of her boss. Add Lincoln and her anxiety on top, and anyone would crack under that mountain of pressure.
But not Nevaeh.
No, she’s a fucking warrior.
Not to mention, I don’t know if I could actually make that rule go away, but I’d at least try. I’m not sure I’d give up either if she told me that’s what she wanted, and that terrifies me above all.
“Whatever you want,monange,” I say, lifting my arms in the air to stretch and show off my body a little.
Her eyes trail down my chest, lingering on my exposed skin before she forces them away again. The way her cheeks turn red once more has me fucking giddy. I love turning this woman on.
“I want you to eat more and go to the hotel and rest. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say, ripping a chuckle from her. I look around the empty room for a moment before leaning down to press a soft kiss to her cheek.
“See you tomorrow, Adrian,” she replies as I step away, a shy smile on her lips.
The things I’d do to kiss that smile.
Chapter 25
Nevaeh
Myparentsweretextingme non-stop yesterday, worried after they found out what happened, but I felt great. After eating, drinking, and getting some sleep, I was rejuvenated and ready for my day with Adrian. Yesterday were the free practice sessions of the race weekend where the teams tried out new things to get the best performance out of the car on this specific track.
Whenever Adrian wasn’t in the car or with his strategists, he was with me, answering whatever questions I asked him. He even allowed me to snap some pictures, which I plan on including in my article. I haven’t asked Gillian, Mrs. Lu, or Ms. Martin for permission, but I’m going to as soon as we get back to England.
Journalism and photography go hand in hand, after all.
I’m sure they won’t have a problem with it. At least that’s what I keep telling myself while I take candid photos of anything and everything that catches my eye.
Velocità Rossa made me sign a contract promising that should I catch any information I’m not supposed to this weekend, I’ll keep it to myself or they’ll sue me. A non-disclosure agreement. However, Adrian has been very careful not to let me get too close to what his team is doing and keep the focus entirely on him and everything he does during the weekend.
Today is the sixth Qualifying of the year. I don’t find it nearly as exciting as the race, but it determines the starting positions of the drivers for the Grand Prix.
Valentina appears on the screen in front of me, beaming up at her performance coach, Isabella, and looking happier than ever before. This is where she belongs. Formula One is her place in the world.
I envy her.
It must be the best feeling on the entire planet to feel like you belong.
“I’m talking to a wall,” Adrian’s familiar voice says loud enough to fill my ears. The noise in his garage is almost unbearable.
I look at him to see he’s dressed in his red racing suit, which hangs at his hips, revealing the red fireproof shirt the Velocità Rossa drivers wear underneath their suits.
“I’m sorry. I was lost in your sister’s smile,” I reply honestly, and he cocks a brow, handing me a to-go cup. I smell whatever is in it, and the scent of hot chocolate fills my nose. I told this man yesterday that I can’t have coffee because of my anxiety, so he brought me this instead.
