“Fine,” I admitted with a dramatic sigh. “Just the snacks though.”
His laugh was soft, almost too quiet to hear over the chaos of the team preparing for the race. I glanced around at the engineers, the mechanics, the monitors showing the track, and then back at him.
“Good luck out there,” I said softly, my voice cutting through the noise like a secret meant just for him.
“Thanks.” His voice was equally quiet, his gaze steady.
Before I could overthink it, I leaned up on my toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. The touch was brief, but the heat that climbed up my neck as I pulled back was anything but.
“For luck,” I added quickly, stepping back and trying to act like my heart wasn’t pounding.
His smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ll take it.”
With that, he turned and headed toward the pit lane, leaving me standing there feeling like my feet weren’t quite touching the ground. We would do it all again tomorrow, with an even bigger crowd.
* * *
From my spot in the Belen garage, I could see everything; the mechanics working tirelessly, the monitors showing every angle of the track, and the sea of fans in the grandstands. It was a surreal experience, being so close to the action yet so removed from it at the same time.
The race began, and the tension was immediate. Alexander’s car shot forward, holding steady in the top positions. My heart raced with every turn, every pit stop, every daring overtake. I found myself gripping the edge of my seat, holding my breath whenever the camera lingered on his car.
When a particularly intense battle for first unfolded between him and another driver, I couldn’t help but gasp aloud. The crew around me cheered and groaned with every move, their energy infectious.
In a moment of distraction, I pulled out my phone. With the hum of the race in the background, I snapped a selfie, the Belen Racing logo in clear view behind me. I added a simple pink heart emoji to the caption and hit Post, feeling a strange mix of nerves and satisfaction. The soft launch of our “relationship” was officially underway.
When Alexander crossed the finish line securing his first-place position for tomorrow, the entire garage erupted in cheers. I found myself swept up in the excitement, running out with the crew to celebrate.
* * *
The finish was chaos. Alexander’s car rolled to a stop, and he was out in an instant, throwing his arms around the crew members gathered at the barriers. His helmet was off in seconds, his hair a mess, his grin brighter than the sun overhead.
And then his eyes found mine.
I froze as he broke away from the crew and strode toward me, his expression a mix of exhilaration and something else—something that made my breath hitch.
Before I could process what was happening, his arms were around me, pulling me into a tight hug. The world seemed to blur for a moment, the noise fading as I felt the solid warmth of him against me.
Our faces were close, so close that his forehead brushed mine. His breath mingled with mine, and I swore the earth tilted slightly on its axis.
In a flash of a decision, his lips met mine. It was soft, chaste even, but it sent a rush of warmth through me that left me feeling weightless.
When he pulled back, his gaze searched mine, a question lingering in his eyes. I couldn’t find the words to answer, but the smile tugging at my lips must have said enough because his grin returned, just as dazzling as before.
The crew’s cheers pulled us back to reality, but I couldn’t shake the buzz of my skin, my heart racing, or the tingling on my lips.
16
ALEXANDER
The checkered flag waved, and I crossed the finish line.
First place in Azerbaijan.
I exhaled a sharp breath, gripping the wheel so tight my knuckles ached. My radio burst to life with the sound of my engineer shouting my name, cheers and congratulations pouring into my helmet. The car still hummed beneath me, the vibration of the engine coursing through my body like electricity.
I’d done it.
The race had been brutal, a constant push and pull, wheel-to-wheel battles that demanded every ounce of focus I had. My rival had been relentless, cutting me off at corners, challenging me at every straight. But I’d stayed calm, waiting for my moment. And when it came, when I’d seen the perfect gap in the final laps, I’d taken it without hesitation.
