“Yeah.” Mia leaned in a little, voice dropping conspiratorially. “I was at Ashworth for years—started in comms, ended up handling most of Lucas’s media stuff. That’s how we met, actually. I was his comms assistant, he was the driver… late nights, endless debriefs, hotel lobbies at 2 a.m. Somewhere in there we just… fell for each other.”
She gave a small, rueful smile. “Wasn’t easy on the same team. Every conversation felt watched, every look could turn into gossip. The paddock loves drama. We kept it quiet as long as we could, but people notice everything.”
Aria nodded slowly. The parallel wasn’t lost on her, even if her situation was the opposite. “That must’ve been tough.”
“It was.” Mia shrugged, warmer now. “And it’s not always smooth being on rival teams now—different garages, different agendas, cars scrapping for the same piece of track. But we make it work. We talk. We don’t let the job win. Most days it’s just us, and the rest is background noise.”
Aria let out a quiet breath. Talk. Yeah. She and Jax would need to do more of that soon—figure out what “fake” actually looked like before someone (like Mia) started rooting too hard for the real thing.
Mia checked her phone, then looked back with a grin. “Anyway—enough shop talk. I was chatting with Dana earlier. She wants to grab drinks this weekend—just the three of us. Low-key, no sponsors, no cameras. You in?”
Aria paused, the faint sheepish feeling tugging again. Drinks with Mia sounded nice… and a little dangerous. More time in close quarters meant more chances for the story to slip. But saying no would look strange.
“I don’t want to intrude—” she started.
“You’re not. Dana’s been curious about you since Singapore. She’s Jax’s physio, my best friend, and the only one who can get him to admit when he’s actually sore. She’ll like you.”
Aria’s smile came easier this time, even if the quiet mismatch lingered underneath. “Okay. I’m in.”
“Perfect.” Mia squeezed her arm lightly. “I’ll text you the details. You’ll fit right in.”
She stood, coffee in hand, and gave Aria a quick wink before heading back toward the Ascari side.
Aria watched her go, then looked down at the garage again. Jax was talking to a mechanic now, laughing at something, easy and relaxed. She felt that small lift again—just a quiet enjoyment of seeing him in his element.
She took another sip of coffee and let the thought sit. For now, it was just a weekend guest pass and a thumbs-up from across the pit lane.
And that felt… okay. Nice, even.
She leaned back in her seat, the sun warm on her face, and decided not to overthink it yet.
???
Jax
Practice 2: P5. Found grip in sector two, started trusting the rear more.
Practice 3: P4. The car woke up. He felt the old fire flicker back to life.
Each time he climbed out, he glanced up at the hospitality deck. She was always there—arms folded on the railing, watching with quiet focus. Sometimes she caught his eye and gave a small thumbs-up. Once she clapped when he set a purple sector. Social media was already exploding: fan shots from the grandstands, zoomed-in clips of her in Ashworth colours.Aria Moon confirmed in Jax Callaghan’s garage? They’re not even pretending anymore.The speculation fed on itself.
Saturday qualifying: he attacked every corner, every straight. Locked in P6—his best of the season. When he pulled into the garage, helmet off, sweat pouring, chest heaving, he looked up. She was clapping—quiet, proud, eyes shining. Something in his chest cracked open.
Lucas jogged over, clapping him hard on the back. “P6, mate. You’re waking up.”
Jax managed a grin. “About time.”
Mia appeared next, weaving through the mechanics in her Ascari team polo. She’d spent half the day in her own garage but kept crossing over to sit with Aria.
“She’s been asking me everything,” Mia said, smirking. “Tyre degradation curves, how DRS actually feels in the cockpit. She’s got actual notes on her phone. Like, bullet points.”
Jax blinked. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. She’s invested.” Mia’s eyes danced. “She also asked if you always look this tense before qualifying or if it’s just this weekend.”
Jax huffed a laugh—half embarrassed, half touched. “Thanks for babysitting her.”
“Anytime. She’s sweet. And she’s clearly Team Jax.”
