The paddock fell silent.
“But I did. And you know what? It made me a better driver, and it made me remember why I started racing in the first place. It wasn’t because I had something to prove, or because I needed validation from people who were never going to give it.” My eyes found Julian again. “But because I loved it.”
I raised the trophy. “This championship is for everyone who’s ever been told they’re not good enough. That they need to fall in line, play it safe, stop being so difficult.” I grinned. “Fuck that. Be difficult. Be yourself. And if they don’t like it? Win anyway.”
The crowd lost its mind. Champagne sprayed, Nico and Jesse unleashing their bottles in the chaos. I grabbed mine, shaking it up before joining in. The liquid arced through the air, soaking everything, the crowd roaring below us.
When we finally descended the podium steps, champagne-soaked and exhausted, Nico clapped me on the shoulder. “You know you’re properly fucked now, right?”
“How’s that?”
“You just told half the world you’re in love.” He grinned. “No take-backs.”
I glanced back toward the crowd, finding Violet again. She was trying to slip away, keeping to the edges, avoiding the cameras. But I’d seen her face during the speech. The tears she’d tried to hide. The smile she couldn’t quite suppress.
“Good,” I said. “Wouldn’t want one anyway.”
VIOLET
He kissed me the second the door closed.
No hello. No “did you see the race?” Just Griffin Michaels, three-time world champion, backing me against the wall with his mouth on mine and his hands everywhere.
I melted into him, the last four hours of adrenaline and tension dissolving. He was here. Safe. Mine. And judging by the way his hands slid under my shirt, he had plans.
“Shower,” I gasped between kisses. “You smell like?—”
“Victory?” He grinned against my throat. “You love it.”
I did. God help me, I did.
But he also reeked of champagne and sweat and rubber, and I wrinkled my nose.
“Where’s Hazel?”
“Imani and Cleo have her for the night.”
His brows rose. “The whole night?”
“The whole night.”
A slow grin spread across his face. “Well. That changes things.”
“Does it?”
“Princess.” He backed me against the wall again. “I just won a championship, told the world I’m in love, and now I have the woman I’m obsessed with all to myself for an entire night.” His hands framed my face. “Yeah. That changes everything.”
His mouth found mine again, hot and claiming. I kissed him back, pouring hours of fear and adrenaline into it. His hands sliddown my sides, thumbs brushing the bare skin where my shirt had ridden up.
“Bed,” I gasped.
“Shower first.” He grinned against my lips. “I need to wash the sweat and champagne off before I get it all over the sheets.”
“Griffin—”
He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his pupils blown wide with want. “Please.”
“Okay.”
