Owain bounces with the impact, muttering as he rights himself.
Perfect timing. Julien was looking for a place to direct his anger.
The McLean social media guy keeps recording both drivers as a look of recognition crosses Owain’s face. “Julien! I didn’t see you after Quali yesterday. Howzit?”
He holds out his hand, and Julien is compelled to clap it. It’s the boarding school in him. “Good, good.”
No it’s not, but that’s none of Owain’s concern.
“Man, I’m glad I caught you.” Owain didn’t catch anything—Julien was the one who ran into him. “Wanted to apologize for yesterday. No idea anyone was behind me.Fuck, you’re fast.”
Huh.
Owain’s a pretty cool guy, actually.
Julien relaxes, rocking back. “Nah, man, it’s fine. Shit happens.” Why does he sound even more British than normal? Must be a proximity thing.
“Pass that on to the stewards for me, would’ja?”
“Sure thing.” Julien will definitely not be doing that. “Hey, you got any food on ya? Starving.”
Surprisingly, Owain has enough awareness to look up at the red building they’re standing in front of. The Ferraro bull bucks on the giant golden shield displayed directly above the door Julien exited from. “We’re at your hospitality building.”
“Yep.”
“Yeah, my trainer’s a dick, too.” Owain laughs and summons the social guy closer. “You got a protein bar or something?”
The guy finally has the decency to turn his phone away as he pulls his slim backpack forward and digs through the pockets. “Chocolate okay?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Julien turns to leave, but Owain asks, “Hey, you go clubbing?”
With what free time? “Sometimes.” He’s such a fucking liar.
“Cool. Text you later?”
“Sounds good.”
As soon as he’s out of range of the McLean camera, Julien tears into the protein bar. It doesn’t taste good, but it negates the worst of the stomach pains. It’ll have to be good enough until lunch.
By the time he reaches his driver’s room, Julien has calmed down. He might’ve overreacted a little bit at breakfast. Might’ve been a tad jumpy. Maybe even too tired or hungry to realize it wasn’t the time or place.
Shouting at his brother in public? It’s like Julien’s begging to be labelled as stupid and childish. And there were so many people in that room—importantpeople. Fuck.
Julien kicks the wardrobe half-heartedly before climbing up onto the massage table and falling face first into the padded surface. He prides himself on his self-control, but Thomas gets under his skin like no one else can.
And the only person Julien can talk to—theonlyperson who might understand what he’s going through—took Thomas’s side.
That sucks.
When Julien gets himself onto that podium, he’ll tell the Brazilian driver exactly where to stick it.
“That’s the checkered flag and P7. Good drive today.”
It wasn’t a good drive. It was long and grueling and, despite his adrenaline, Julien is so exhausted he might not be able to stand after he parks. He definitely won’t be able to move his neck for a week.
“Thanks, but it’s a good car.” As many people pointed out on his stream. “Learned a lot for next week, so let’s keep at it.”
