Then again, the crowd doesn’t even register the room. They circle around one person who—ohdamnit. Who told him?!
“Julien!Ça va?” Thomas’s face lights up when they lock eyes. “Are they taking good care of you?”
“Ça va.”Before he can faire la bise, Julien reminds him, “The foam is still wet.”
“But of course.” Instead of kissing him on the cheeks, Thomas leans into the cockpit and kisses Julien’s forehead. It probably looks sweet to the myriad of cameras pointed at them, but it’s so fucking frustrating to be treated like a child while they’re at work.
“I can ask them to make it a little looser for you.” Thomas picks at Julien’s already-styled hair, forcing it out of place. “Looser seats are good for a full range of arm motion.”
“But I like it tight.”
Instead of responding, Thomas pulls out his phone. “Your first Formation 1 race.” He flips the camera towards both of them and takes selfies while Julien’s trapped.
The reserve driver stares at his reflection in horror. Why would Thomas part his hair like that?! While Julien isn’t allowed to move?
“Don’t take pictures of the chassis!” Julien tries to shake his head without moving his shoulders and disrupting the foam, but his hair stays put.
“This is for Maman, to tell her you arrived safely. You should call her more—she worries.”
“Maman doesn’t worry about me sitting in a parked car covered in foam.”
“Alessandro, could you make the seat looser for him,per favore?”
“Not looser!” Julien snaps. “Non allentarlo!”
Thomas tsks and shakes his head. “You should work on your Italian, you sound English.”
“Well, you should work on your English, you sound French.”
“WeareFrench.”
“Then don’t make fun of my Italian!”
The group of onlookers laugh, silencing the Frenchmen. Julien hadn’t forgotten they were there, but sudden laughter is off-putting. “What?”
“You act so much like brothers.”
Thomas and Julien look at each other, confusion evident in both faces. “Wearebrothers.”
Like there’s any doubt. Even without the giant name printed on Julien’s race suit, the Dubois genes are frustratingly strong. Julien can’t count all the times he’s signed merch because someone thought he was his oldest brother.
That’ll change this year.
“Thanks for stopping by, but I’ve got it from here.” Julien shoos his brother away with a quick flick of his fingers.
“But this is what I have booked for today.” Suddenly, Thomas has a folding chair in his hand. Has it been there the whole time? He perches on the lightly padded seat but still has to look down into the cockpit. “I am here to help.”
“I don’t need help, I’ve got it.”
“That is okay. I can also be here to pass the time. I remember my first seat fitting—we had to redo itthreetimes in one day. It took hours.”
Pleasedon’t let that be the case today.
“What about them? Aren’t you filming something right now?”
Thomas looks up, confused, as if he only just realized there’s an entire crew of people watching the brothers, recording as they talk. “No, they just follow me sometimes. Soon you will be used to the cameras and forget they are even there.”
That’s unlikely, considering Julien has two eyes and a healthy dose of situational awareness. “Have you heard from Rafael? How’s he doing?”
