“Thank you,” I said, meeting his gaze. “I really appreciate it.”
Paul’s expression softened, he nodded past me, toward the edge of the crowd where Lucia stood, Gianna perched on her hip.
“You and your girl,” he said, his voice carrying a warmth that caught me off guard. “I had a love like that once. You hold onto it.”
My chest tightened as I followed his gaze. Lucia was laughing at something one of the crew had said, her head tilting back slightly, the lights catching the loose strands of her hair. Gianna was chattering animatedly, her tiny hand clutching Lucia’s necklace as she pointed at something. They stood out in the sea of red and black, like they didn’t quite belong—and yet, they were the only thing that mattered in the room.
“She’s—” I started to deflect, but the words caught in my throat. Shewasmine. Not in any official way, not yet, but in every way that counted, Lucia and Gianna were mine.
Paul gave me a knowing look and patted my shoulder before walking off, leaving me standing there, champagne-sticky and utterly undone. I let out a breath, running a hand through my damp hair, and turned back toward them.
The noise of the garage faded as I crossed the floor, weaving through the team until I reached them. Gianna spotted me first, her face lighting up like I’d brought the sun in with me.
“Alex!” she squealed, reaching out with both arms.
Lucia’s smile was softer, but it carried the same warmth. Her eyes met mine, and the pride there was so palpable, it washed over me like a second victory.
“Hey,” she said softly. “Congratulations.”
As Gianna practically launched herself into my arms, and Lucia’s hand brushed mine in the exchange, Paul’s words echoed in my mind.
You hold onto that.
I wasn’t letting go.
I wanted this.
For real.
But first I needed to talk to Matteo.
* * *
We headed back to the hotel to clean up after the race, and Matteo was practically vibrating with excitement. He was already talking about hitting the town, as if the energy from the track had followed him right to the elevator. Anna, bless her, had happily agreed to stay with Gianna so the three of us—Matteo, Lucia, and I—could go out tonight with Nicola and some of the other drivers. The anticipation was electric, even if part of me felt like I was walking a tightrope between exhilaration and something far more nerve racking.
I knocked on Matteo’s door, and he yanked it open with a grin so wide I was momentarily blinded.
“Hey, man,” he said, practically dragging me inside. “Help me with this outfit, would you? I can’t decide, and you know I’ve gotta look sharp if I’m gonna be the life of the party. Which I obviously am.”
I stepped into the chaos of his room, clothes flung over every available surface like a hurricane had passed through. Matteo was already rifling through a pile of jackets, half talking to himself and half ranting about the race. His sentences overlapped in a way that made no sense unless you were fluent in Matteo-ese.
“First of all,” I said, holding up a pair of bright sneakers he’d apparently considered wearing, “what the fuck are those?”
Matteo rolled his eyes but tossed the offending shoes aside, letting me dig through his stuff to find something more presentable. Eventually, I found him an outfit suitable for a night out. “Here. You’ll look like you’ve got your life together, even if we both know that’s a lie.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said dryly, sitting on the edge of the bed to lace up his, much better, shoes.
As he tied the last knot, he glanced up at me, tilting his head like a curious puppy. “What’s up with you? You look…weird.”
I snorted. “Weird how?”
“Weird like you’ve got something on your mind. Spill it, Wright. You know you can talk to me, right?”
I hesitated, my heart picking up speed. Then I decided to throw caution—and maybe a little bit of sanity—to the wind. “It’s…complicated.”
“Complicated how?” he pressed, his tone shifting from playful to cautious.
I avoided his gaze, suddenly finding the carpet way too interesting. “It’s about Lucia.”
