Page 85 of Break My Heart

She gives me a sharp look. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I do.” Then I concede, “I don’t think I have the answer to that yet.”

“Good, because I don’t either.” She studies my face before admitting, “I need to feel your honesty.”

“You will.”

“And just because we—” She gestures between us.

“Last night doesn’t override everything else,” I conclude. “I wouldn’t want it to.”

“Okay, that’s a good answer.” She pauses before asking, “What’s next?”

I lean back slightly, considering my answer. “Breakfast and a conversation that doesn’t involve telemetry or race strategy.”

“Acceptable.”

“Then we go back to work, because unfortunately, we don’t exist in a vacuum.”

“No,” she agrees. “We don’t.”

We hold each other’s gaze for a second longer, and I realize what Christin needs from me is transparency and showing up the way she deserves.

The way I should have from the start.

30

WHEELSPIN: TIRES LOSING TRACTION UNDER ACCELERATION

Locations: Spielberg and Silverstone

It’s been mere weeks since we were in Barcelona, but Austria feels like momentum. Not just on the track, but between Leo and me. We’re not producing the same kind of energy that imploded us in the past; now, it hums between us. It’s focused and intentional, not something that burns out. It gives me the feeling that everything I want is within reach.

In the case of our relationship, we both agree our slow and steady approach is moving us in the right direction. Instead of burning up the sheets, we’re spending mornings sharing coffee and talking. It’s a testament to Leo that he hasn’t complained once about being up early.

We end each day with late walks where our conversations matter more than proximity.

Our physical intimacy is different. It’s not the only thing bringing us back together. He’s not trying to recreate what we had before and frankly, neither am I.

The most important thing is that Leo consistently shows me how much I’m a part of his life.

We’ve shared dinners where our conversations flowed for hours. We’ve sat cuddled together with silence wrapping us closer. There have been moments when I’ve caught him choosing me in small, quiet ways—like making certain I have privacy to talk with my father. Finding a way for us to play hooky so we could explore the Graz Old Town and Schlossberg an hour away. Or like the day he canceled a sponsor dinner after he realized I hadn’t slept more than four hours while preparing a systems update.

Or when he noticed I’d stopped eating halfway through dinner because I was distracted by a problem with the code. Instead of pushing for my attention, he pulled my laptop onto the table and asked me to explain it. Then sat there for nearly an hour listening while I talked through steering latency, like it was the most fascinating thing he’d heard all day.

Then there was the airport. I’d been overwhelmed, exhausted from travel and lack of sleep. Leo took one look at me and pulled out his phone to call Dario, ordering him to cancel his morning media appearance so he could join the later flight. When he was asked why, he replied with a simple, “I want to make certain Christin makes it safely.”

After we landed in Austria—when rain delayed practice and everyone else retreated to the garages—Leo stood beside me in the pit lane holding an umbrella over my head as I took a moment to breathe away from everyone. He didn’t care that he got soaked beside me.

None of those moments screamed seduction. That’s why they mattered to the place in my heart that was wounded.

Will I ever be in a place where I skip through our days in idyllic splendor? Highly unlikely. Neither of us is perfect. But, like I told my father last night, “Dad, each time he shows me he cares, I realize being with him is the right choice.”

“As long as you’re sure, Pumpkin.”

That’s when I asked him to join us in Silverstone so he could meet Leo and tamp down his worry. “It’s just a quick flight over the Atlantic.”

Despite the tumultuous ups and downs of having a relationship while on the circuit, we’re both committed to being there for each other as much as we give to our jobs. Take the race at Spielberg. When Leo misses first by a fraction of a car length, I find myself wanting to be by his side even more because of the disappointment that flashes across his face before he schools it for the cameras and for the team. I admire how he interacts with Hogan, whom Leo praises for his eighteenth-place finish with real enthusiasm.