“After Australia, he was really kind, and he gave me a lot of good advice. We hung out a few nights in Japan, then again in China. Though I haven’t seen him since we arrived in Spain.”
My eyes are so wide they water, and despite my efforts, I can’t help but hiss an enthusiastic, “Mia.”
She gives me a pointed glare, silently telling me to keep it together.
This is a big deal. Like, a really, really big deal.
Mia doesn’t date. She’s only ever been in one relationship, and that was over a decade ago, when we were teenagers. She’s too committed to her career to allow anyone or anything to distract her. The fact that she’s “talking to” someone, and he just so happens to be the reigning world champion in their shared sport, is huge.
“It’s not a big deal,” she mutters. “Don’t make me regret telling you.”
I stand straighter and mime zipping my lips shut. “I won’t.”
But itisa big deal. If she thinks otherwise, she’s only fooling herself.
Prince Marceaux is a Formula 1 superstar.
Part of the Elite Eight, he’s risen steadily over the years, biding his time. Last year, during his first year with Rampage Motor Sport, he won the Driver’s Championship and helped his team secure the Constructor’s Cup. He’s already leading in the points this season, ahead of Matty Olsenn, and there’s speculation that he’s got what it takes to reclaim both titles this year.
He’s also gorgeous and pompous, and he has the sexiest French accent.
By all standards, he’s everything Mia’sneverwanted.
A whisper of doubt enters my mind. Could he be taking advantage of her? They’re not direct competition because they’re so far apart on the grid, but this sport is cutthroat at its core. Prince is a notorious fuckboy. Or so I thought. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe the rumors aren’t true. Mia is a good judge of character. If anything, she’s extra critical of the intentions of her competition.
Is it possible there’s more to the reigning world champion than I realized?
“Earth to Evan.” My best friend waves a hand in front of my face.
I snap out my thoughts and grin.
“You don’t have anything to say?” she presses.
I take my drink from the bartender, thank him, slide a tip across the bar, and take a long sip through the tiny stir straw.
Then I turn back to my best friend. “Oh. I’m allowed to react now?”
Groaning, she tips her head back. “If you must.”
“Okay, okay, okay.” I set my drink down and release a breath. “First things first. I assume you’re being safe and taking precautions?”
“Of course,” she defends. “And it’s not like that. I mean, we haven’t…”
I let her trail off instead of pressing for details. She’ll share what she wants to share in time.
“Good. As long as you’re being safe and are happy, I’m all about this. You deserve to have some fun, babe, and Prince is hot as hell and fast as fuck. He’s the pinnacle of fun, if you ask me.”
Mia glowers.
“What?” I ask. “We’ve all seen his thirst traps on Instagram. That man is fine with a capital F. And last year in Belgium when he started P8 and won the entire grand prix? So epic.”
Her expression softens, a small smile teasing at her lips. “He’s really sweet, too. Thoughtful and well spoken. We stayed up for hours in Japan talking in his hotel room.”
“Justtalking?” I can’t help but ask.
Mia quirks one brow, her blush deepening.
I wag both of mine, but she shakes her head, clearly done spilling the tea.
