The camera quickly focused on them.
The commentators mentioned his name, but I wasn’t listening, only focused on his hands on her, how he craned his neck and how she bent to kiss him.
On the mouth.
For seconds… and seconds.
They held that kiss as if they were waiting for the cameras to snap them, like a couple at the end of the altar.
“So far, so good,” I muttered. Soon enough, the grid emptied when the riders were ready to start and Clara came back into the pit box. I didn’t say anything during the race despite her standing at my back and watching. No one was to interruptCrisor Abbe’s thoughts.
Nix placed second, andLucaplaced seventh. Nix’s podium position meant he would be a sticky mess, covered in champagne, but it also made for a pretty good photo opportunity.
“You should be there when he rides in,” I told her, and I could hear the stiffness in my voice. “Get a little bit of champagne on you — no doubt, he’ll be covered — and kiss for the cameras.”
She nodded eagerly and dashed off.
And then I had to watch Nix pull up on the screens as the men around me cheered. They were tense during the race, whereas my unease started when Nix opened his mouth or did anything that wasn’t on a bike.
The presenter went to him as the winner was busy cheering and getting clapped on the back by his peers.
“Nixon, much better than last week,” he said, a microphone up to his mouth. “How are you feeling about second place?”
He shrugged but was grinning. “Not bothered about second. It will be first next week—” He stopped mid-sentence, clocking something off-camera. He ignored the presenter’s next question and instead wrapped his arm around Clara, kissing her on the head. “It won’t be hard with this cheerleader at my side.”
Damn. Okay, that looked believable. Almost too believable. For someone who hadn’t been in a relationship for years, hewas oozing confidence in such a caring gesture.
If we didn’t think we had screen time earlier, we definitely did now.
The presenter grinned at the camera, eyes wide in dramatic surprise. “This is a good look on you,Armas.”
He seemed chuffed as he pulled the slightly startled Clara closer, an arm wrapped around her shoulders.
Saliha’svoice broke through the noise from the speakers. I didn’t even know she’d entered the room. It was just me and a few mechanics remaining. “Your phone’s ringing,Liv.”
I waved a dismissive hand, transfixed by Nixon doing as he was told.
The presenter asked a few more questions about lap timings and the new bike and then went to the winner of the race.
In the background, Clara was hugging Nix close as he walked up to the podium to retrieve his trophy.
They looked good together.
“Liv, it’s going again,”Salihasaid, pushing the phone before me.
I took it from her, gave her a weak smile and rejected the unknown number’s call.
Nix took his reward graciously before spraying his champagne bottle with first and third place.
When the phone buzzed again, I put it to my ear. “Yes?”
Saliha’seyebrows rose at my tone.
“Livie,” came a desperate voice I recognised. “Are you sitting down?”
“Adam?” I asked, sure I must have heard wrong. “What are you — yes, I’m sitting down.”
I thought I’d blocked him. Ex-boss, unfair dismissal. Ex-boyfriend and all that.
