The sound of metal tearing.The smell of burning rubber.The moment when everything went wrong.
“I’m fine.”
“So you keep saying.”Georgia’s grip tightened slightly, her thumb finding my pulse, which was now racing.“That moment in free practice yesterday—”
“Was nothing.”I cut her off.
“Henri—”
“I said I’mfine, Georgia.Arrêt!” I pulled my hand away from Georgia’s grip, standing abruptly enough that my knee hit the coffee table, making the teacups rattle.
My feet were already moving me toward the door, and I grabbed my bag in one swift motion.
“I need to prep for tomorrow’s Grand Prix.”I didn’t look back, couldn’t bear to see the worry etched across Georgia’s face.“Thanks for the tea.”
The door closed behind me with a soft click, cutting off whatever Georgia had started to say.
Chapter Six
Lily
I palmed the inside of my blazer to check for my room key and suddenly felt the stiff edge of the note instead.I’d forgotten I’d thrown the note inside this jacket.
It’d been almost two weeks since I got it.Two weeks of me blatantly ignoring that terrible gut feeling that nagged at me.I’d memorized every word by now.
Next time, you won’t walk away.
The handwriting was neat, controlled, nothing like the chaos it promised.But I’d convinced myself my mother was right and had put it to rest.
This dinner with Ollie would be a good distraction.Or, at least,adistraction.His social media had taken off over the past year, and I was happy to hear that F1 wanted him to run theirHome Stretchpodcast, a show that focused on drivers’ home races, or their chosen favorite race if they didn’t have one.Between the podcast, his social media, and the published freelance articles, his name was all over motorsport.
Ollie had selected a place that had about half a dozen restaurant essays written about it from the sort of magazines you’d see in hotel lobbies.He was already seated at our table when I arrived, and I had to actively stop myself from gawking at him.
He sat with one leg crossed over the other, arm hooked casually over the back of his chair, blond hair catching the restaurant’s ambient lighting in a way that seemed almost unfair.He looked like he’d walked off a magazine cover instead of just arriving for a casual dinner between old classmates.
When did he become this handsome?My mother had been right about one thing.He’d certainly grown up and filled out since school.The scrawny kid with braces had transformed into someone who belonged in a modeling career.Easily 6’1”, he had a lean athletic build, a sharp jawline, and blond hair that fell in perfectly ruffled waves.But it was his eyes that really struck me: startlingly blue, almost unreal in the restaurant’s lighting, framed by unfairly long lashes.No wonder his social media had exploded.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Little Miss Sunshine!”he called out as soon as he noticed me, standing to kiss each cheek before pulling out my chair.“Even after a full day of qualifying, you still look magnificent.”
My cheeks flushed as I took a seat.“Liar,” I laughed.“I look like I could be auditioning forThe Walking Dead.”
“Rubbish!”His smile was warm and contagious.“If you were a zombie, I’d gladly let you take a chunk out of me.”He winked, and I found myself smiling at his cheesy joke.
The server appeared with a wine list.I reached for it, but Ollie closed it with a decisive snap that felt more confident than rude.
“The Solvang Cabernet, please.A bottle.”He placed the order with the easy confidence of someone who had thoughts on tannins and how assertive the taste of wine should be.I didn’t usually drink before races, but I figured one glass wouldn’t hurt.
“You like a cab, yes?”he asked, not bothering to wait for an answer before continuing.“Bold, structured, a little arrogant—”
“Ah, a bit like you,” I teased.He cocked his head, and for just a moment uncertainty flickered across his face, before it vanished behind that classic smile that had captured audiences across social media.
“Guilty as charged,” he laughed finally.“But this one has an excellent flavor profile, especially for the duck.Which you’re absolutely getting.”
“Oh, am I?”I raised a questioning eyebrow, amused by his presumption.
“Trust me.”The way he said it, with that disarming smile and those impossibly blue eyes focused entirely on me, made it very easy to want to.“You know, I’ve been thinking about this dinner all day.When your mother mentioned you might be free, I immediately moved my other plans.”He leaned forward.“I mean, dinner withtheLily Blackwood, future F1 champion.Dream of a lifetime!”
I felt my cheeks flush.“Ollie—”
