I smile back at her. “He’s the opposite. He’s encouraging me to start my master’s in sports psychology in September.”
“You’ll be great at that. I feel ten times better about tomorrow’s race after speaking to you. Thank you.”
A prickling sensation hits the back of my neck as I remember how Niki said he wanted to talk about what we need to change to make my master’s possible. After seeing his excitement at racing, I worry that we both can’t pursue our dreams without hurting our relationship.
CHAPTER 70
Rosie
Nothing compares to a home crowd. Silverstone is resplendent as thousands wave British flags.
The livery of Niki’s car—or, as Tabi called it, “the new cover”—is red and blue. Teams plan a new one for special occasions, and because this is Coulter’s thirtieth British Grand Prix, they designed their cars months ago.
Niki’s parents stand with me as we watch the end of the formation lap.
“Is Tabi okay?” Niki’s mum asks as the cars line up at the grid. Niki’s starting in third, and racing gossips have suggested he could win this one.
“Yes, she’s with my parents today. Austria was a bit overwhelming.”
“I remember bringing Niki and Senna to their first grand prix when their dad was team boss. It takes some getting used to.”
The lights are red, but the race will start as soon as they turn green. My palm stays pressed to my heart as we wait. This part is so much more terrifying when it’s my boyfriend at risk.
“She’ll have lots of time to get used to it if Niki goes to Vessa,” Niki’s dad says.
My head snaps. “What?”
“If he drives for Vessa next season, like he suggested to Senna, he’ll race for nine months of the year. You and Tabi will see him in lots of races.”
Niki’s mum touches his dad’s arm as the lights turn green. The cars are too loud for me to ask what he means, and I pull on my defenders.
Niki’s making moves to drive professionally again?
Of course he is. It’s the person he’s worked to get back to, the man who focuses on his career and becomes number one again.
But I’ve seen the life of a racing driver. It won’t be two or three days away like when he’s an advisor. It will be five or six days a week at least every fortnight. Why didn’t he tell me? Is it because he’ thinks driving is the only thing that matters to him again?
The group of cars reach the first corner.
Suddenly, Niki spins, his car rotating uncontrollably.
Spun out, one of the pit crew mouths to another, pointing at the screen we’re all focused on.
My body shakes as cars come within an inch of hitting him. Niki’s mum presses her hands to her face, her mouth agape. Senna grips her desk and says something on her headset. My breath comes in rasps as another car flies towards him. The driver yanks it out of the way just before hitting him.
Two cars smash into each other, trying to miss him. Debris litter the track, and a safety car is brought on while it’s cleared. All the cars follow each other slowly. Niki straightens his car and joins the back of the group.
The pit crew and Niki’s parents calm quickly, but I can’t stop trembling. I desperately wet my lips. Everyone else is so used to seeing something like this that, within seconds, they’reonly bothered by his track position. He could’ve been seriously injured!
Thoughts swarm my mind as Niki’s mum grabs my hand.
The track is slightly quieter due to the safety car, and she pulls down her ear defenders, encouraging me to do the same.
“Niki’s okay,” she says. “These things happen all the time.”
I offer a weak smile.
“And don’t worry about what his dad said. Niki hasn’t signed for anyone yet. He wanted Senna and their dad to know he was considering driving for another team. Nothing is agreed. These discussions take months.”
