Page 53 of Racing Hearts
The kiss was nothing like the one we’d shared in Barcelona, or even the one after the gala. It was the kiss I’d wanted to give her this morning. Commanding and urgent, fueled not by champagne, but by all the emotions that had been building between us this week. Cameras flashed all around us, capturing the intimate moment, but I didn’t care. My hands cupped her face as she wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me closer.
When I finally pulled away, I rested my forehead against hers. “Until next time,amore.” She just grinned as she waltzed confidently towards the interview area, my eyes following her form.
Next to me, I heard Edward whistle loudly. “And to think, three races ago you wanted to have her banned from F1?” Edward teased. “Might just get my thousand euros after all.”
I couldn’t help the grin tugging at my lips. Edward was much closer than he realized.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Georgia
With Luca’s taste still on my lips, I marched myself over to the cooldown room, not ready to face what I’d just done—or why I’d done it. Nora told me to sell this relationship, and what girlfriend wouldn’t kiss their boyfriend if they had just won their home race?
Obviously, that was 100 per cent the only reason I kissed Luca.
It definitely wasn’t because, in that moment, Luca had the most kissable face I’d ever seen. Or because I felt so much pride and joy for him, I just couldn’t help myself. Or because I was so pissed for my driving mistake that a kiss from Luca was all I could think about to relieve my anger.
Nope, not a single one of those reasons was true, I concluded.
After the cooldown room and a champagne-soaked podium ceremony, I was shuffled into my least favorite circus act of the weekend: the winner’s press conference. We were supposed to clean up before these post-race press events but based on how much champagne was oozing out of Luca’s clothes, it was clear the Hermes team had kept on partying. There was no other way to describe it: Luca looked like the cat that had got the cream.
“Welcome to our Monza winner!” the moderator announced.
Sweat clung to the back of my neck as I mentally prepared for the topic everyone was going to want to discuss, my disastrous spin that had ultimately lost me the race. My throat tightened as anxiety slowly started to take over my body, like a python circling its prey. More than anything, I hated discussing my racing errors. I knew I’d fucked up.
The media knew it. The team knew it. The fans knew it.
Remembering Luca’s earlier advice on body language, I straightened my back, trying to make myself look taller and more confident.
“Let’s start with Luca,” Michael Clifton began. “Luca, congrats on a riveting win here at home for you. How does it feel?”
“Incredible. Just… unimaginable. This has been a dream of mine since I was a child, to win at Monza in a Formula 1 car just like my father. And now I’ve finally done it.”
Despite my own disappointment, watching Luca gush about his victory, I felt nothing but pride and excitement for him. Even though I’d lost, something about watching him win made the hurt sting less. Losing didn’t matter as much when it was to someone you cared about.
And I did care about Luca.
“Tell me, when you saw Georgia spin behind you, what were you thinking? Were you slightly relieved, knowing that your main race competitor was going to lose time?”
Luca’s jaw ticked, goofy grin immediately dropping from his face. “No, my first thought was:Is my girlfriend okay?You never want to win because another racer puts themselves in potential danger. We’re competitive, but ultimately, there are only twenty of us in the world. I know many of you find this hard to believe, but we’re also friends. Once I knew Georgia was okay, I put my head down and focused onmyrace.” I threw Luca a small, appreciative smile. Concern for our fellow drivers always came first.
Next came my turn. “Georgia, you almost had Luca at the end. Tell us, what happened in the car today?” Exhaling a breath, I attempted to steady myself as I straightened my back and uncrossed my legs.
Become the bear, Georgia. You’re the scary one.
“I made a mistake,” I said evenly. “It caused a spin. Luckily it was minor, and I recovered quickly. I’m happy with second. It puts me in the lead for the championship.” The steady tempo of my voice surprised me, and I gave myself an internal pat on the back as I stared down the journalist with a confident smile.
“Sure, you’re a few points ahead of Henri,” another journalist chimed in, “but aren’t you worried mistakes like this will keep you from winning the championship?”
He stared at me with a sturdy face, clearly unhappy that I had mentioned my lead. The frustrated part of me wanted to stand up and throw my water at the journalist, but since Sassy Dubois was meant to be left at home, I opted for a steady, calming breath.
“That applies to all of us,” I said cautiously. “Even champions. A mistake happened this race, yes, but I’m not worried about the next race until I’m in the car again.” I knew it was a good answer because I saw Nora flash me a thumbs up, a rarity at my press conferences. I looked over to Luca, and he just slightly nodded, straightening his own back in a reminder for me to regain my posture.
“Sure, champions don’t make these mistakesevery race.That’s evident by previous championships.” I wanted to desperately roll my eyes at his stupid comment. “But, so far, you’ve made three mistakes in the last six races. How do you plan on controlling your emotions in the car when you make these mistakes? Or is there some, perhaps, monthly reason you’re being emotional…?”
Did he just imply that I’m on my period?
The world went red, and the conference room might as well have been on fire with the amount of steam leaving my body. I might be a predator on the track, but these journalists truly were the vultures of the paddock.
