Page 147 of Overtake
I gape at him. “Hey, it’s my turn!”
“No.” He’s smirking as he shakes his head. “You cheated, so I win on a technicality.”
“You’re the cheater!” I laugh as we cross the finish line in a cloud of tire smoke.
Nico immediately peels off to do victory donuts, spinning the AMG in perfect circles while cameras capture every moment of controlled chaos and the two of us laughing like bloody idiots.
“Oh my God, you’re such a show-off!” Of course I love every minute of it. And him.
EPILOGUE
ABU DHABI | DECEMBER | SUNDAY | RACE DAY
ZARA
The Abu Dhabi paddock buzzed with end-of-season energy hours ago, but now it’s mostly breakdown crews and transport teams dismantling equipment to ship back to factory headquarters. The teams are celebrating at after-parties—champagne flowing, teammates saying goodbye for the winter break, making plans for next year.
But I’m not going to Nitro’s shindig. Instead, I massage my right wrist as I enter our hotel lobby, the familiar ache of a lupus flare-up is settling into my joints after a long weekend. The inflammation is manageable, but my fingers feel stiff and fatigue is building behind my eyes.
“Zara!” Petra waves from across the lobby as she exits an elevator with Nico, Reece, and Maiken. “You coming to the Nitro party?”
They’re all dressed to kill—impeccable dark suits and sexy jewel-toned dresses, perfect hair, expensive jewelry. They’ve earned their success and the glamour that goes with it, so I hate the twinge of petty jealousy I feel when I see them because it’s absolute bullshit. I know how hard Petra, Nico, and Reece worked this season and the risks they took to attain their wins.Besides, this isn’t the first party I’ve skipped and it won’t be the last. I’ve learned to accept my limitations, surpass them, then not be a fucking whiny titty baby about the consequences.
I meet them in the middle of the lobby. “Nah. Not on my agenda.”
“Really?” Reece asks. “The team will miss you.”
“We can wait, if you want,” Maiken adds.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” I shrug. “I’m pretty worn out, and parties aren’t really my thing anyway. Thanks, though.”
“Are you okay?” Petra assesses me like I’m a bit of wonky data.
I smile, though I know it probably looks pretty pathetic. “I’m good. I just need my medication, a hot bath, and about twelve hours of sleep.” I flex my fingers. They’re getting uncomfortably stiff. “I overdid it today and ignored my pacing monitor.”
“Shit. That’s not good.” She frowns. “Want me to stay? We can order room service, watch terrible reality TV?—”
God, she’s sweet. “No. Hell no.” I wave her off. “Go celebrate. You earned it, and I’m used to decompressing alone.”
“Are you sure?” Nico looks like he’ll argue, bless him.
“One hundred percent, Nico. But thanks for giving a shit. You guys don’t need to worry about me. I’ve been managing this crap for years.”
Maiken links her arm through Reece’s. “She’s right, and we can stop acting like her mom now.”
Petra hesitates, but Nico gently tugs her toward the door.
Reece bumps my arm with his elbow. “Text if you need anything. We’ll make Hans bring it.”
I laugh. “I will. Thanks. Now go before I change my mind and make you all watch me drool on my pillow.”
That gets a laugh as they head for the exit. I smile and watch them push through the doors into the cool Abu Dhabi night. They’re greeted by a crowd of fans and photographers.
The lobby’s almost empty except for a few tourists checking out and staff moving quietly between marble columns. Everyone from the F1 circus is either heading to the airport or celebrating. Nico clinched his fifth Drivers’ Championship three weeks ago in Vegas, and tonight he and Wyn secured WolfBett’s third consecutive Constructors’ Championship. PNW Nitro took second in both championships—Petra finished second in the Drivers’ standings with Reece in fourth.
Not a bad season, all things considered.
As I turn toward the elevators, I spot Wyn standing between them and the stairwell door. He’s talking on his phone, and I’m surprised he’s not with Nico or already at the WolfBett party. But he’s still dressed in his team gear. Our gazes meet, then he glances past me to the doors his brother and teammate just exited through.
