Page 69 of Racing Hearts
Venturing out of my room, I noticed Georgia sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee, reading the latest issue of JOULE magazine. No doubt prepping for our upcoming interview and photo shoot that Nora had organized.
Was there ever a moment she went into something unprepared?
Dressed in a dark blue blazer, jeans and a silk shirt, Georgia looked ready to go out. She had no idea that in just a few minutes, Henri was going to burst through her front door, followed by a parade of several uninvited guests. I cleared my throat, and she glanced up at me, a small smile forming on her lips.
“Morning,” she said cheerily, taking another sip of her coffee. Her shoulders were stiff, but her face was the epitome of calm and collected, like she was daring herself to act as normal as possible.
So, we were going to ignore last night then.That’s fine. Two could play at that game.
I flopped down onto the opposite couch. “Sleep well?”
Georgia ignored my question as she continued to flip through her magazine, but the creeping blush on her cheeks and dark bags under her eyes told me she had slept about as well as I had.
“So… I know we haven’t really discussed summer break,” I started, and Georgia tilted her head, interest flickering. “But I figured the media are going to expect us to be seen together. I was thinking, if you don’t have any concrete plans at the start of our break, I always hop onto my family’s yacht to spend time with them before my training camp. Away from prying eyes and fans. You should come. We can get a few strategic photos. I’ll do my best to keep my mom from fangirling too much.”
Her brows lifted. “You want me to join you on your family’s yacht?”
I nodded coolly, not wanting to scare her away with my eagerness. “If I can tear you away from your simulator for a week?” I teased. “We can just relax, spend some time together without any distractions…” My voice faded off as I watched Georgia’s unreadable expression.
She set the magazine aside, her fingers tapping nervously against the rim of her coffee cup. “Are you sure? I mean, don’t you want a break… fromus?” The last part came out as a whisper, and I could see her confidence waning.
Reaching out, I grabbed her thigh, giving it a soft, reassuring squeeze. “What? Never! Plus, it’ll be nice to beat you in a jet ski race. Gotta get my wins in when I can.”
“Alright, I’ll come, but you better bring your A game, Rossi.”
An entire week of just me and Georgia with plenty of time for us to get to know each other. Maybe even have a redo of the date that I’d messed up all those years ago.
As we sat there, discussing our plans for the upcoming summer break, a sudden commotion from outside caught our attention.
And so it begins, I laughed to myself, feeling a tad guilty that I hadn’t let Georgia in on the secret.
A knock at the door rang out, drowning out the soft music from her stereo. Georgia yelled for Henri to come in as she returned once more to her magazine. I kept my eyes trained on her, not wanting to miss her priceless expression when she saw a group of hooligans walk into the apartment.
And she did not disappoint.
Henri threw open the door, and in walked Henri, Éliott, Edward and Lily with what looked like twenty balloons and six bags of food from Georgia’s favorite restaurant and bakery.
If looks could kill, hers would have slaughtered the entire paddock.
But just as quickly as she could, her face turned to the biggest, lightest, most cheerful composure I’d ever seen from her.
Guess some of my media training was working. I grinned to myself.
Henri lifted her off the ground, swinging her around the living room like a rag doll. “Surprise!”
“Wow, um, I didn’t expect this,” she stuttered, shifting her eyes to me in an accusing glare.
“What a lovely surprise yourbrotherhad,” I said, smiling innocently. “All byhimself.”
Henri’s face lit up, and I reached out to give him a congratulatory pat on the back. A sly smile crept across Georgia’s face, her eyes widening with understanding at the subtle implication of my tone.
“Starting to look like a circus in here,” Georgia grumbled under her breath.
Henri called us all over to the table, taking a seat next to Georgia. Before Éliott could sit on the other side of her, I grabbed the chair. Judging from his side-eye, I could tell he was slightly annoyed. I put my arm around the back of Georgia’s chair and she shot me a look, but I just smiled as I shoved another croissant into my mouth.
Petty? Maybe. Satisfying? Absolutely.
Brunch blurred by in a haze of croissants and forced small talk, except with Edward, who was showing me the latest pictures of Arthur, Wilmington F1’s new hamster.
