Page 75 of Racing Hearts
The guilt sat heavy. She didn’t need to clarify which night. We both knew, had both been dancing around that elephant since Miami.
“I’m sorry I never showed, Georgia. I was young and stupid, and as terrible as this apology sounds, I was jealous and angry at my father. And, somewhat you. After hearing his conversation, I felt oddly betrayed and instead of asking, I did what I do best, I ignored it.”
She reached out and squeezed my hand. “I was hurt that night. Everyone had told me to stay away from you. But I wanted to see the real Luca. The one who wasn’t just a headline or a smirk.” She smiled softly. “The Luca I’m getting to knownow.”
Something cracked open in my chest at that. For a second, I couldn’t breathe. Not because I was caught off guard by her kindness, but because I didn’t realize how much I’d been waiting for her to say something like that.
This was the same woman who’d nearly shoved me into the barriers a few races ago. Who used to look at me like I was something to be scraped off her tire. And now she was sitting across from me, sipping my wine, wearing my shirt, and slowly letting me see all the parts of her that weren’t for public consumption.
I raised my glass of wine to hers, feeling a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with the alcohol.
There was a beat of comfortable silence before she shifted on the couch, tucking her leg underneath her, looking at me again, this time a little more serious. “Well, since we’re talking about forgiveness…” She shifted in her seat, eyes flickering away. “Anthony apologized to me in Monaco.”
“Oh?” I asked curiously.
She nodded, swirling the last of her wine. “Anthony’s a lot of things—liar included—but he’s not exactly a great actor. He looked pretty sincere. But honestly? It doesn’t matter. I used to think an apology would fix something inside me. That it would make it all okay. But when he finally said the words, I realized I didn’t need them. I’d already moved on. He doesn’t get to live in my head anymore.”
“I’m glad,” I said, giving her hand a quick squeeze. “He doesn’t deserve your time.”
Noticing her glass was empty, I opened my wine cabinet. My fingers grazed over the labels of the wine bottles, searching for one of my favorites. As I poured us both a glass, Georgia leaned back in her chair, taking a sip before letting out a contented sigh. During the last few weeks, I’d finally caught a glimpse of the Georgia that Henri always raved about. As each layer pulled back, I was finally seeing the witty, charming Georgia that had her friends and family in a chokehold.
That now had me in a chokehold.
The oven timer dinged, signaling that our dinner was ready. “Shall we eat?” I asked over my shoulder.
She lifted her glass in response, her face beaming. “Excited to be the first customer of Chef Rossi!”
Laughing, I grabbed the two plates of mac and cheese, balancing them expertly in one hand as I ushered her back to the living room, setting them on the coffee table. “Dinner is served,amore.”
Georgia took a bite, moaning softly as the gooey cheese and al dente noodles melded with the rich, creamy sauce. It had been a long time since I’d cooked for someone else, let alone enjoyed their company this much.
“So,” Georgia said between bites, “if you don’t mind me asking, how are things going with your dad?”
“Okay. Better after the Monza win. I thought he’d be over the moon, that the win would give me some relief, but honestly? It’s almost been worse. Like Monza showed him that Icouldwin, and so now he expects iteveryrace.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, Luca, I believe that youcando it. You’re just as capable of winning the championship in that Hermes car as Henri is.”
Her eyes had such a determination in them, so fast and steady that I almost felt the self-doubt melt away. If Georgia had a superpower, it would be the ability to instill unwavering confidence in anyone she believed in.
“Hermes still haven’t signed my contract extension,” I mumbled finally.
“There’s still plenty of time. Summer break only just started. Have any other teams made offers?”
I laughed dryly. “Matteo said there’s been a little interest, but I don’t think I’m the most desirable driver on the grid right now.”
Georgia just shot me a pointed look. “You’re a Formula 1 race winner. Plenty of teams would be lucky to have you. If he gets a meeting set up with another team, you should go.”
Trying to hide my nerves, I looked down at my slippers. “Maybe.”
“So, are your parents annoyed that I have to join you on this break?” Grateful didn’t begin to describe how I felt at her changing the subject.
“Not at all,” I chuckled. “My mom’s a huge fan of yours, if you couldn’t tell by the Valkyrie shirt she wore on Sunday.” Georgia’s eyes lit up, undoubtedly pleased at my mother’s choice of attire last week. “I’m sure if my dad got to pick myactualgirlfriend, you’d be top of the list.”
“Oh?” she questioned, intrigued by that answer.
“A talented race car driver who doesn’t break the rules, get wasted at parties, or steal yachts? Pretty sure my father would happily swap the two of us.” I didn’t mean for the words to sound so pathetic.
Georgia tilted her head, a wry smile playing at her lips. “You make me sound so dull, Rossi.” Georgia topped off my glass of wine, shuffling closer to me on the couch. Her presence felt like a warm blanket on a cold night.
