"There you are." William's voice carries that slight rasp it gets after races, from shouting over the engine and radio for hours.
I turn to find him silhouetted against the rooftop lighting, still wearing his team polo and jeans. His hair is damp from a recent shower, curls more pronounced at the top than usual.
"Here I am," I confirm, patting the space beside me on the sofa. "Shouldn't you be downstairs celebrating with the others? Iheard Farrant's buying drinks to everyone after finishing behind both of our drivers. It’s surreal, it feels like he’s gone insane."
William snorts, crossing the distance between us. "And miss the real celebration?" He drops onto the sofa beside me, immediately slinging his arm around my shoulders and pulling me against his side. His body radiates heat; a stark contrast to the cool evening air. "Besides, parties aren't much fun when the most interesting person in the room is missing."
"Flatterer," I murmur, but I can't fight the smile tugging at my lips.
"Just honest." He presses a kiss on my temple. "Told Blake I was turning in early. He just nodded, didn't even question it."
William shifts, adjusting our position so my head rests against his chest, his heartbeat steady under my ear. "This view is something else."
Above us, the stars burn impossibly bright against the desert darkness, undiminished by the city lights below. The Milky Way stretches across the sky like spilled sugar, while the waxing moon casts silver light across the rooftop garden. In the distance, the illuminated Yas Marina Circuit glows like a fallen constellation.
"Worth escaping the party for," I agree.
We settle into comfortable silence, his fingers idly playing with the pearl pendant he gave me in Singapore. It's become a habit of his, an unconscious gesture of affection that never fails to send warmth through my chest. My eyelids grow heavier with each passing minute, the exhaustion of the race weekend finally catching up with me.
"Don't fall asleep on me, Colton," William murmurs against my hair, amusement coloring his voice. "I'll be offended if my company puts you to sleep."
"Not your company," I mumble, unsuccessfully fighting a yawn. "Just the small matter of running a Formula 1 team for twenty-four weekends across five continents."
"Just that?" His chest rumbles with quiet laughter. "Nothing taxing at all."
"I just want to pack up and go home," I sigh, nestling closer to his warmth. "Sleep in my own bed for more than three consecutive nights."
William's arm tightens around me. "Ourbed, you mean."
The possessive note in his voice sends a pleasant shiver through me. After Monaco, once he'd been cleared by doctors, I'd practically moved into his countryside house. What began as helping with his recovery evolved naturally into sharing a life. Some of my clothes migrating to his closet, my favorite tea appearing in his kitchen, the spare bedroom transforming into my home office. Neither of us ever officially discussed it—it just happened, as natural as breathing. I spend more time at his place than mine.
"Yes," I concede, smiling against his shirt. "Ourbed."
William shifts slightly, angling to see my face. In the moonlight, his features appear softer, more vulnerable. "You know what's better than that P4 today? Better than the Monza trophy? Better than finishing fifth in the championship when everyone said I was washed up?"
I raise an eyebrow, waiting.
"This." He gently cups my cheek. "Being able to hold you without looking over my shoulder. Walking through the paddock with your hand in mine. Not having to pretend we're just colleagues when every part of me wants to shout that you're mine."
My throat tightens unexpectedly. "We weren't very good at hiding it anyway."
"Terrible," he agrees with a grin. "And I hated it. Hated feeling like you were my dirty little secret, which you never were. If I'd had my way, I'd have told the whole world the first time you kissed me in Melbourne last year."
"That would have been problematic for team dynamics," I point out, though I can't help but smile at the memory of that first night together, the unexpected vulnerability we'd found in each other even if I was trying to do my best to create distance.
"Worth it." His eyes hold mine, utterly serious despite his smile. "Every challenge, every media circus, every stupid question about whether our relationship affects my driving—all worth it to have this. To have you."
The raw honesty in his voice catches me off guard. I love this side of William—thoughtful. Sincere. Unguarded in his affection.
"I never thought this would happen," I admit quietly. "When I hired you, relationship drama was the last thing on my mind."
William laughs, the sound vibrating through his chest and into mine. "Relationship drama? Is that what I am to you?"
"Among other things."
"Such as?" His eyes dance with mischief.
"A headache," I offer. "A distraction. A surprisingly good driver."
