Page 48 of Formula Dreams
Carlos steps up beside me and tilts his head, curious.“Grappa?What’s that?”
“It’s an Italian brandy,” I say, lips curving.“Made from the leftovers of winemaking—skins, seeds, stems.It’s very strong and meant to be sipped.”
The bartender sets the small glass in front of me, clear liquid catching the light.I lift it, swirl it once… then knock it back in a single swallow.
Carlos’s eyebrows shoot up.“Supposed to be sipped, huh?”
I grin and set the empty glass down with a soft click.“Rules are overrated.”
The liquid sears down my throat and warms me on its way down, sharp enough to make my eyes water.For one brief, glorious second, it cuts through the noise.
Carlos watches me like I’ve sprouted a second head.“All right,” he says slowly, “what’s going on?You don’t drink like this.”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”He shifts, bracing one forearm on the bar, the other blocking my exit.“You’ve got that murder glare going.I remember it well from our FI2 days.It nearly struck down that reporter in Monaco when he called you ‘little lady’ in the paddock.”
The memory earns a smirk from me, but it dies fast.I blow out a long breath, my shoulders sagging enough to let the words slip free.“I slept with Ronan last night.”
I wince, wishing the words would crawl back into my mouth, especially after Carlos’s entire body jerks.His brows shoot straight up, and his eyes widen to saucers.“You slept with Barnes?”he hisses.
I cut him a look.“Do you know another Ronan?”
“Christ, Francesca…” He scrubs a hand over his face like he’s trying to erase the words from existence.“He’s—”
“I know.”My hand comes up, palm out, cutting him off before he can build his case.“Trust me, I know.And it wasn’t like it just… happened.”
“Well, what did happen?”he murmurs, moving closer.“Without the gory details,” he amends.
I lean one elbow on the bar and quietly give him the condensed version—the barbs and banter, the stupid PR stunts, the cracks in his armor that I wasn’t supposed to see but without divulging anything about his mother.That’s his secret to carry.
“One moment we’re circling each other like enemies and the next, something… snapped.”
Carlos listens, silent but frowning, and I’m sure it’s judgment I see in his expression.At least, that’s what my guilty conscience sees.
When I finish, he exhales slowly, eyes narrowing a fraction.“And how did you leave it with him?”
I lift a shoulder.“We didn’t really talk about it.Agreed it was only sex and tonight he shows up with his newest conquest apparently.”
“He’s a total dog,” Carlos says knowingly.“But come on, Francesca… surely you knew that.He’s the playboy of the FI world.”
“I’m an idiot,” I mumble, ducking my head.
“No, you’re not,” he says and pulls me into a gentle hug.“We all have those one-night-stand regrets, and you’re an adult.You’re allowed to sleep with who you want and for whatever reason you want.”
“You don’t think less of me?”I ask, my voice pitifully small.
“Never,” he vows and puts his hands on my shoulders.“You’re a daring, badass formula race car driver.You play by whatever rules you want, and you keep that chin up high,sí?”
I nod as warmth floods my body, my fondness for Carlos and his reassurances making me forget the terrible feelings.
“Now, do you want me to kick his ass for you?”he asks, his handsome face earnest as he ducks to look me in the eye.
I laugh, shaking my head.“No… he didn’t do anything wrong.He did exactly as I should have expected.”
I don’t tell Carlos that it was the best sex of my life and I’ll live on those memories, so at least I’ll get something out of it.I don’t tell him that I thought we had a connection that went beyond lust.Instead, I nod over to where Lex, Posey, Nash and Bex are still laughing.“Come on… let’s go hang with our friends and have some fun.”
We weave back through the crowd, the air warm with too many bodies and the faint tang of champagne.Carlos steps into conversation with Lex and Nash, while Bex turns to me.“Posey and I were watching you at the bar and we swear the back of your gown makes you the biggest sexpot here tonight.”
