Page 25 of Racing Hearts
She didn’t dignify that with a response. “Come, let’s get this pre-race date over with so we can get back to focusing on the whole reason we’re here. Your race win!”
Every time I visited the Hermes hospital suite I was left completely in awe. The gleaming marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, and framed portraits of past champions oozed old money and sixty years of Formula 1 history. Just past the entrance, I spotted Luca and Henri tucked away at a small table in the back, mid conversation. Luca, ever the strategist, already held two cups of coffee.
Smart man. If he had drinks ready, we could shave at least two minutes off this awkward encounter. If there was one thing I suspected we could agree on, it was that every minute we didn’t have to spend together was a win.
He looked up, grin already in place, his Hermes team shirt soaked through from the Miami humidity. The tight spandex clung to every inch of him, highlighting a body that absolutely did not deserve to belong to someone so insufferable. I could make out every curve of his chest and the cut of his abs.
Stop. Staring. Georgia.Didn’t matter that Luca basically looked like a sweaty, handcrafted statue from the Italian Renaissance era, he didn’t need any more of an ego boost.
Suddenly, Luca had his arms wrapped around my waist, and we were locked in a large, sweaty embrace. I could smell the salt on his skin as he tugged me closer, pressing my head against his muscular chest. He gave me a tight squeeze, which I might havesecretlyenjoyed if he wasn’t soaking wet from the sweltering heat.
That was a lie.I enjoyed it anyway, a fact I decided to shove into a deep, dark place. No one had accused me of being blind, just of being bad at media.
Luca let me go, motioning to a chair next to him as he handed me my cup of coffee.
I looked into the cup, and before I could ask, Luca whispered, “Don’t worry. Not an ounce of cream or sugar.”
Just how I liked it, which left me with a hint of surprise.
He turned toward Henri with a theatrical sigh. “Look who came to steal our racing strategy!” He took a sip from a purple mug that had his team number etched into the side.
“Don’t be silly, we don’t steallosingstrategies over at Valkyrie.”
Luca huffed out a laugh at my quip, one that almost seemed genuine, but Henri didn’t seem quite so amused. He was very touchy about Hermes F1 strategy—or lack thereof, as he often bemoaned.
“Nice of you to visit us this morning,” Henri proclaimed, giving my arm a squeeze that was accompanied by an “I’m sorry you have to do this” smile. I made sure my cheerful grin screamed, “This is your fault for inviting Luca to that party.”
“Well, when Luca boasted that Hermes’ Italian coffee was better than our French roast at Valkyrie, I knew I had to give it a try. You know how I feel about anythingItalian.”
Luca cocked an eyebrow at that jab but said nothing. Instead, he scooted closer, draping his arm along the back of my chair. His fingers began tracing gentle circles on the back of my neck—an unconscious tic I was beginning to recognize. Over the last few days, it had become increasingly obvious that Luca’s love language was touch. At first, I’d thought the hugs were just for show, but I was starting to realize that they did carry some meaning for him.
Henri topped off my coffee ever so slightly, before leaning in closer. “So, Georgia, I hear that Luca has you to thank for our front-row lock out today.”
“Oh?” I narrowed my eyes at my brother, trying not to let my curiosity show.
“That advice you gave me yesterday,amore, was quite useful.” Luca leaned in with a lazy grin.
No part of me believed that he was going to listen to the advice I’d given him after free practice. But somehow, Luca had managed to squeeze out second place on the starting grid. Oddly enough, I felt more pride than frustration towards him. He might be Hermes’s number two driver, but Luca had immense talent, as shown by his large collection of Grand Prix trophies from the last eight years.
As much asIwanted to win, I hated watching another driver suffer through the kind of dry spell Luca had been enduring all season.
“Glad to be of service,” I muttered. “So, you going to use any more of my racing secrets to knock my brother off of his high horse and steal his victory today?”
Luca’s face told me exactly what he thought about my rhetorical question. If I thought it was unlikely that Valkyrie would let me pass my teammate Lily on track, there was no chance in hell Hermes was letting Luca pass their golden boy in today’s race. Hermes had made it clear that Henri was their number one driver with Luca in the supporting role. Sometimes I wondered if that was why Luca never seemed to try during races anymore, wondered if he felt like it was pointless because the team prioritized Henri winning.
Without thinking, I placed a quick, sympathetic hand on his thigh. His muscles tensed for a split second beneath my touch, but he didn’t flinch, just smiled. “It doesn’t matter who stands on that top step, as long as it’s not Team Valkyrie.”
How incredibly diplomatic of him. I had no doubt that, deep inside, Luca wanted to crush my brother in this afternoon’s race. In F1, your teammate was both your best friend and your worst enemy.
“Well, we Hermes boys will have to stick together today.” A pointed reminder from my brother that Luca’s job was to help defend Henri’s first-place qualifying position.
Rolling my eyes, I internally prayed to anyone listening that I could turn my eighth-place start into a win so that I didn’t have to spend the rest of the evening listening to Henri and Luca boast about their success.
Nora appeared behind me, her subtle wave a polite way of saying, “Wrap it up.” I drained the last sip of coffee and stood, patting Henri’s head with a wicked grin. “Gotta run, but see you boys at the podium celebration. I’ll be the one on thetopstep.”
Henri snorted, standing up to give me a hug, before nudging me towards Luca, with a meaningful look that said, “Hug your boyfriend.”
Hesitating for a moment, I awkwardly draped my arm around Luca’s waist, giving him a half-hearted side hug. He coyly laughed, wrapping his arms around me as he pulled me flush against his chest. He was wearing that cologne again—the one that smelled of lilacs and pine trees. Eyes closed for just a brief moment, I let myself drink it in before quickly opening them, backing off from Luca. Despite his propensity to get under my skin, he truly had this ability to give you a hug so warm and inviting that it made you think you’d been best friends for several lifetimes and not enemies for a few years.
