Page 36 of Racing Hearts
Approaching a sharp turn, I seized the opportunity I’d been waiting for. I dove to the inside, my kart hugging the track’s edges as I braked hard and late. The tires screeched in protest as I slid past Georgia as we went side by side. The moment I felt the rush of fresh air in front of me, I knew I’d overtaken her. I shot past her, grinning like an idiot as the checkered flag waved in the distance. Crossing the line first wasn’t just satisfying, it was joy. Pure, uncomplicated, childhood joy.
I yanked off my helmet, hair damp with sweat, and threw both arms in the air before taking a deep bow. Considering I was behind all of them in theactualchampionship, I probably shouldn’t have looked quite so smug.
“No need to betooimpressed with my victory,” I teased, taking a second bow.
Georgia marched up to me, pointing her finger at my chest, but I just continued to smirk at her sour face. I knew Georgia would be upset with my pass, but seeing her steaming in front of me made that move even more delicious. She’d had her fun for nineteen laps, but like hell was I going to let a Monégasque win onmytrack.
If I thought she was cute when she smiled, she was even cuter standing in front of me, face red with her ears practically on fire.
Forget cute. Furious Georgia was gorgeous.
“That move wasdangerous, Luca!” I let out another laugh at her ferocity, pulling her flush against my chest as I wrapped her in my arms. Kissing the top of her head, I gave the photographer an opportunity to sneak in a quick, intimate photo. Georgia let out a small groan, but I was pleasantly surprised when she leaned in, resting her head on my chest. If I was a betting man, I would have sworn she was smiling.
“You’re cute when you’re being a sore loser,” I whispered, earning me a huff. She pulled away, flashing me a small grin in return, and I couldn’t help but beam back at her.
“Feel like I just got sandbagged.” Even through her groan, Georgia couldn’t hide the growing smile on her face. There was something adorable about watching her struggle between her frustration of losing and her willingness to admit she had lost gracefully, at least in front of the camera.
“Correction. Youdidjust get sandbagged,” I smugly corrected, although the smirk on her face told me that while I had won the race, she had won something else.
“So, I guess spending the afternoon karting wasn’t such a bad idea after all?” Georgia looked like the proverbial cat who had got the cream.
Cocky, beautiful, annoying.
“We’ll see if you still feel that way after I make you go golfing with me next week.” My retort did nothing to wipe the cocky grin off her face.
“Now where hasthisLuca been all season?” Edward had his hands on his hips as he stared at me in disbelief.
“What can I say? Couldn’t let a bunch of non-Italian drivers win on my turf.”
“I don’t think even the great Michael Rossi could have defended that pass,” he snorted. “Toying with Georgia like that? Thought I was watching Michael Rossi out there!” He nudged me playfully in the ribs, his eyes crinkling with laughter.
“I guess the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.”
The words came out easily, and for a brief moment, they felt right.
For months, I’d convinced myself that racing just wasn’t for me anymore. That the dread I felt getting into the car was proof I didn’t belong in one.
But after another few races around the track and a round of beers at a local bar, I considered that perhaps that was just an easy excuse, because as much as I hated to admit it, today had beenfun.
Chapter Sixteen
Georgia
“Okay, spill, how perfect was the karting date?” Even over the phone, I could feel Nora’s eagerness for all the juicy details. As much as I wanted to hang up and slink into my bed after a day of travel, I needed the lowdown on the podcast recording event with Luca tonight.
“Honestly—” and I knew I was going to regret saying this “—it was fun, better than expected.”
“Oh?” I could hear her crooning on the other end of the line.
“Luca noticeably spent the morning sulking, but after his vicious win, he definitely loosened up.” When Luca’s dad first mentioned the idea to me, I was excited, until Luca showed up with a miserable frown and bad attitude.
“Vicious win?” Nora giggled. “Georgia, it waskarting.”
I scoffed. “I watched the video of the race, and I’m pretty sure the bastard was toying with me! For almost ten laps Luca could have passed me but didn’t, and then in the last lap he casually sailed by like he owned the place. Cheeky bastard.”
I wanted to kick him for how dangerous that overtake was at the karting track, but when I saw his Cheshire cat grin and gleaming brown eyes, I couldn’t help but smile back. The joy on his face was contagious, and after another three races, including a second win for Luca, he was all smiles and laughter. Inviting the other drivers had helped smooth over the tension. We were just kids again, doing a sport that we loved.
No requirements. No demands. Justfun.
