Page 31 of Formula Dreams
“I think so,” I admit.“He indicated you two used to be close.”
“We were.”
I hesitate, unsure how much of Ronan’s confidence I’m betraying, but I push forward.“I asked him why he did it… outing Posey the way he did.”
Lex’s brows rise in visible surprise.“Well, he never told me,” he says, eyes narrowing.“Then again, I punched him for doing it, so there wasn’t much talking after that.”
I let out a low breath.“Oh, wow.I didn’t realize that.”
“Yeah.”His response is flat, but I hear the hurt laced within it.“It was a clean hit too.Knocked him back a step.He didn’t return the punch.”
“That says something,” I murmur, watching a gust of wind whip a Drivex banner so hard it nearly rips off its post.“Want to know why he did it?”
Lex doesn’t respond immediately.He studies the bottle in his hand like the label might hold answers to bigger questions.“I’m not sure if I care, to be honest.”
“I think you care,” I say softly, turning toward him.“You’re a nice guy.Of course, you’d care.”
“But he’s not a nice guy,” he says with a shrug that’s too practiced to be sincere.
“I think he’s got the ability,” I counter, then glance past him at Ronan pacing along the edge of the hospitality structure, phone to his ear, his free hand shoved deep into the pocket of his jacket.His mouth is tight, his expression hard.It doesn’t look like a fun conversation.
I turn back to Lex.“He said he was jealous.That he thought he was losing his best friend and maybe wanted to blow it all up before it changed without him.”
Lex exhales slowly, nodding once.“I suspected as much.It wasn’t exactly rocket science to figure that out.”
“He’s not proud of it,” I add.“And I think you know that.Because you knew him.”
Lex looks away, toward the horizon where the circuit curves out of sight like a ribbon of steel.His voice is quieter now.“Yeah.I know.But Posey—it was harder on her than it was me.He humiliated her.She didn’t deserve that.”
“No,” I agree.“She didn’t.But I also don’t think Ronan knew what to do with himself.He’s got some hard stuff going on.I’m not excusing his actions, but maybe it helps to understand.”
Lex rolls the bottle between his palms, considering.A long pause stretches between us, filled with the rustle of tarps and the faint clink of tools.
“I don’t hate him, you know,” he says at last.“I just stopped trusting him.And I don’t know how to start again.”
“Maybe you don’t have to start all at once,” I say.“Maybe just stop avoiding him.”
He lets out a breath that’s half sigh, half laugh.“You sound like Posey.”
“She wants you to forgive him?”I ask, genuinely surprised.
He nods, a faint smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.“She’s a lot kinder than I am.And she’s all in love with me and an eternal optimist, so she wants to believe the best.”
I bump his shoulder lightly with mine.“She sounds like a smart woman.”
He offers a small grin and the tension between us eases.The kind that comes from shared wounds and tentative truths.Not everything needs to be solved right away—but maybe a crack opened a little today.
We chat about next week’s race, here on the home turf of Crown Velocity and Titans Racing, although technically it’s an American-owned company now.In racing, your allegiance can be to two countries.The country of your nationality—Italy for me—and the country that claims home to your racing team, in this instance, England.Of course, that would also now be the United States, and I dare to dream briefly of what a first-place podium will be like when they play my national anthem and then the one for my team.
“Okay, my sparkly racers,” Timmy calls out, clapping his hands.“Let’s get started on group shots.”
The crew moves like a hive, snapping into place with practiced efficiency.A line of overhead lights buzz to full brightness as a photographer waves Lex and Ronan toward a taped mark on the asphalt, just in front of a gleaming Drivex-branded backdrop.The first shots are casual—arms folded, shoulders squared, the two of them back-to-back in their team suits.Lex handles it like a pro, whereas Ronan has to be constantly reminded not to scowl.
Then it’s my and Nash’s turn.We pose, pivot, reposition.Serious when requested, playful at other times.
“Beautiful, beautiful,” Timmy sings out.“Now let’s shift the energy, darling!Let’s do some crossover shots.Titans with Crown, one-on-one tension!Give me contrast.Give me competition.Give me grit!”
Lex and Nash are up first, reprising their flatmate comedy act from the commercial.The photographer directs them to lean against opposite sides of a mock kitchen counter that’s been rolled into the pit lane—complete with fake cereal boxes, a half-empty sports drink, and a comically oversized spatula that Nash immediately grabs and brandishes like a sword.
