Page 129 of Overtake
For the first time in my racing career, I didn’t want to get out of bed and into the car. Dad’s text changed my mind.
I didn’t raise a quitter or a cheat, so get your bloody arse in the car, Petra Lison Meris Hayter.
The camera flashes start before I’m even out of the SUV. Rodrigo positions himself immediately to my left while Cin takesmy right. Three more private security guards create a protective bubble around me, but Nico is my focal point in all this chaos.
He steps forward as we approach. Our security teams and the fans create space between us and the growing wall of cameras and microphones.
Nico extends his hand. I take it and he presses his lips to my ear and says, “Fuck them for doubting us.”
I tip my head back to meet his gaze.“Absolutamente, El Conejo.”
The cameras and questions don’t stop, but my lingering doubts do. Nico and I are in this together. Could I go it alone? Yeah, of course. But having this man at my back feels a bloody fuck-load better. Guess he was right all along about having backup, the cheeky rabbit.
“Petra! How do you respond to your mother’s interviews?”
“Are the allegations about data sharing true, Nico?”
“What’s your relationship timeline?”
We ignore every question, passing through the security entrance together. Nico traces patterns on the side of my thumb with his while we move into the paddock.
There are more autograph seekers, more cameras and questions, but there’s also the familiarity of the circuit and F1’s people, some of whom we’ve known all our lives. We’ve barely made it ten meters when Rich appears, cutting through the crowd with Kilian beside him.
“Pet.” Richard’s voice is warm as he hugs me. “You doing okay?”
“Of course.” I’m not about to show my soft underbelly to anyone. Well, except Nico, and only if he begs.
Kilian extends his fist to Nico, who bumps it and compliments him on his excellent practice sessions yesterday.
“Sólida actuación en ambas sesiones de práctica ayer, chico.”He switches back to English for Richard’s sake. “That lap time in FP2 was mega.”
“Gracias.”Kilian’s grin is broad. The guy’s in his first year with F1, but he’s proving to be a strong choice for Jove Morrison. “Car’s feeling good. Finally got the setup dialed in.”
“Excellent.” I fist bump him too. Thank fucking God for some normal racing chatter. I elbow Richard. “JMR’s looking strong this weekend.”
“We’re getting there.” He’s never satisfied.
As we walk toward the hospitality units, we get a lot of looks. Mechanics from various teams tip their chins. Aigar and Lynch bump fists with us as we pass. But I know everyone’s wondering where the truth lies. Still, so many of them know Kelley and her lack of common sense. Even more of them know Nico and me. I have to believe they’re giving us the benefit of the doubt.
“The paddock’s got a lot to say this morning.” Kilian high-fives Gavril Rhydderch.
Rich nods. “Most people know you both too well to buy into conspiracy theories.”
“Most.” Nico signs a cap for a kid who comes abreast of us and holds out the hat and a pen. The kid’s respectful rather than obnoxious and his manners pay off.
We reach Nitro’s temporary building, where more journalists have gathered, cameras ready. More questions come at us but Nico and I have nothing to say.
“See you on track, Hayter.” He cups my face in his hands and kisses me, slow and deliberate and completely unbothered by the media frenzy exploding around us. When we break apart, his grey eyes hold mine. “I’ll be the one you’re chasing.”
I laugh for the first time since Kelley’s text last night. “In your dreams, Bunny Boy.”
His grin is pure confidence. “Every night.”
Flashes are going off and the click of camera shutters is almost louder than the rev of engines and the noise coming from Mexico City’s grandstands and mariachis.
He presses his lips against my ear. “Show them who you really are.”
As he leaves for the WolfBett business unit, Cin captures my arm and pulls me through the door into ours. “Feel better?”
