“Promise you will not laugh?” I asked.
“Cross my heart,” Theo said.
“I was defending you. Not everyone is kind, even in your fan club. So last year, every race, I would log in and be your biggest defender against bad fans.”
I thought Theo would laugh, or struggle to hold it in thanks to his promise. Instead, his eyes went wide and I thought I saw tears threatening to break free. He reached for the laptop, and found my comment history.
“You don’t need to see that, people are cruel,” I said, reaching, but he held the laptop away from me. He scrolled slowly, seeming to take in every word.
“Thank you,” he said finally, turning to me with tears in his eyes. “Really. Thank you.”
I kept him close as I switched the laptop over to what I’d actually wanted to show him.
“I haven’t watched the race yet, would you like to?” I asked. “Rather than punish yourself, or feel guilty for spending time with me. We can use that time, together. To see how we could have done better.”
Theo hesitated. “Yeah…go on. I’d like that.”
So I leaned forward, clicked play, and held my boyfriend as we analysed the race.
Theo
Budapest
It seemed wherever I looked, Sebastian was there. In the drivers’ paddock. Wind-tunnel testing at Silverstone the session immediately before me, so that we bumped shoulders in the corridor as he was on his way out and I was on the way in. And now…
I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture before sending it to Sebastian.This is ridiculous, I typed.
I was stood on the wide balcony of my hotel in Budapest, the night before qualifying. After all the promo shoots and TikTok dances that the social media had forced Graham and I into doing, after our appearance on the main stage, and after the most intense practice session of the season so far. And still I couldn’t escape Sebastian.
Because across the Octagon, so big and shining so brightly that it would give me trouble sleeping, was a billboard. Sebastian’s eyes looked right into mine as he raised one massive hand andindicated the watch on his wrist.SEBASTIAN GARCÍA LOVES ROLEXsaid the text, as he gave a big pearly-white smile.
My phone buzzed, and the man himself had only sent a laughing emoji in reply. I growled at it, formulating a witty reply, when I heard the knock at the hotel door I’d been waiting for.
I crossed the hotel room quickly and opened the door. Brooke Savage was stood in the hotel corridor with a bottle of red wine and a box of doughnuts.
“Thank God,” I said, taking the wine off her straight away. “I don’t normally drink the night before a race but one can’t hurt.”
“You’d be lucky,” said Brooke, pushing past me and heading to the balcony with her box of doughnuts. “It’s non-alcoholic.”
“Youcow!” I shouted after her. I picked up two glasses from the side-table on my way out to the balcony. “I was stressed enough withthatlooking down on me.”
Brooke was looking up at billboard-Sebastian. “Does he have zero pores at all or is that a Photoshop job?” She squinted. “Nope, I can’t spot one hair out of place, not a single blackhead. His skin really is that perfect.”
“Believe me, I know,” I muttered. “You should see it up close.”
Brooke dropped the box of doughnuts onto the table and whirled to face me. “How close, Theodore Tyler?”
I gulped. “Quite close?” I tried. “Y’know, like when we’re out on the paddock.”
“Don’t lie to me, little man.” Brooke grinned, as if to show me she meant no harm. But her eyes were still a little narrowed as she sat down. “Just tell me everything and I’ll forgive you, and let you eat half these doughnuts.”
I rolled my eyes as I took the other seat on the little bistro set. Below us, horns beeped and vendors shouted. And across the busy street, Sebastian’s huge face seemed to observe the conversation. I really hadn’t anticipated telling Brooke all about my boyfriend as he stared down at us. I unscrewed the cap fromthe bottle of wine — never a good sign as to its quality — and poured us each a glass.
I told Brooke all about how my relationship with Sebastian had developed. How the bets had turned to friendship, friendship to want and the want into a real, solid relationship. Her eyes widened as I talked, but she sat in silence and listened, occasionally sipping her wine.
“…and then in Milan, when I lost that race, we had a bet that…y’know what, you don’t need to know exactly what we betted,” I said. “But needless to sayI ended up in his bed that night. And we actually ended up talking through the race.”
“Sothat’s why you were so confident in practice yesterday,” Brooke said. “You had your own private sensei sucking your dick and whispering advice in your ear. I wonder if I can find me a pussy-loving mechanic who’ll make my piece of shit car go faster,” she said.
