It certainly won’t be the first orgasm Clarke credits to Julian. It’s just going to be the first one he’s actually present for.
“Clarke,” Julian groans, breaking the kiss. The hand on her leg tightens. “Maddie.Wait.”
“I don’t want to wait,” Clarke says, pushing against his hold. “We’vebeenwaiting.”
“I know, I know, but—” He kisses her again, desperate and deep. “Just hold on for a second.”
Clarke’s voice comes out as a breathy whine, but she manages to still her hips and step back from the brink. “Why?”
“Because I—I need to—I can’t be casual about this,” he says, tipping his forehead against hers. “It can’t just be sex. Not for me, not with you. I wanteverythingwith you, Mads. So if you’re not ready for that, we need to stop.”
It’s asking a lot for Clarke to do anything other than chase her release right now, but she tries. This is important. They spent so long protecting this for a reason.
She can’t think with him pressed up against her. She dropsher leg, wills her heart to slow down, tries to inventory her emotions.
Her emotions are doing their best impression of that time Maki dropped a handful of ball bearings on the floor and they ricocheted across the garage. She wants Julian, obviously, and she’s probably been in love with him forever, but can she start a relationship right now? A relationship withJulian, who has reminders of Clarke’s family in his apartment and a spot held for the trophy Clarke wants to win for herself in his display case?
Julian steps back. “You’re not ready.”
Clarke feels the loss of contact as a chill everywhere he was touching her before, and has to trap her hands behind her back so she doesn’t reach for him. “Julian, I—”
“You need to think about it. It’s good, that you’re thinking about it. I want you to be sure.I’msure. I’ve been sure for—” He laughs at himself, dropping his chin to his chest. “A long time. You’re not there yet, and that’s okay. I’ll wait. I’m a patient guy.”
“That is patently untrue,” Clarke says reflexively, thinking about all the times she’s seen Julian do something rash on the track.
He laughs again; a true laugh, not one of self-deprecation. The sound spreads through Clarke like warmth, displacing the chill. “For most things, yeah. You’re different. You’re worth waiting for.”
Clarke blushes, which is honestly ridiculous given what they were just doing. “You’re laying it on pretty thick.”
He looks at her, calculating, and does that square-up with his stance that’s a prelude to him throwing caution to the wind. He’s on her again in the next breath, thumb under her jaw, pressing her up and open for a devastating kiss.
It lasts for an eternity, maybe, and then he pulls away. Backs himself up to the couch. Sits down on the arm of it. Looks at her. “I’m going to be clear about this, because I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings. I’m in love with you, Mads. Have been, will be.”
Have been, will be. It rings in Clarke’s chest like a bell, calling her home.
He’s not done. “I want you in my bed, and my life, and my arms, and pushing me on the track. And one day, when we’re done racing—I don’t know what we’ll do after that, but I know I want you with me while we figure it out. So take your time. I hope it doesn’t take you another six years, but if it does, that’s fine, because I’m banking on the rest of our lives.”
Clarke is not going to cry. She isnot. “You can’t justsaythings like that.”
“Already done.” He grins at her, then stands up and reaches down the front of his pants to adjust himself as if that’s a thing he can do without making Clarke’s brain explode. “I’m going to go take care of this. I’m sure you remember where the bathroom is if you need to, uh, do the same. Stir the food when you’re done, okay? We’ll eat, and then you can tell me how I can help with the shitshow at Elemental.”
He bounds away upstairs, leaving Clarke slumped against the door and stunned from the quick temperature change. He hollers, “Get a move on, Clarke, we’ve got shit to do!” a moment later, and Clarke goes to—
Well. She goes to get herself off in Julian’s guest bathroom so she can focus while developing a plan to wreck the professional reputations of her team principal and biological father. As one does.
34
Clarke sees her family onSaturday and flies back to Luna on Sunday. She spends most of Monday in sims and most of Tuesday talking through setup tweaks. On Wednesday, the team loads up and heads to Earth. The season doesn’t slow down for anything, and no one can afford to lose a step this year in particular. Provenance and Chronicle are both nearing the five-hundred-point mark, with Enclave and Martian Motors battling it out for third in the mid-two hundreds. Elemental, currently sitting at fifth, is technically still a contender, but Clarke and Raff would basically have to lock out P1 and P2 for all of the remaining racesandneed Delphine, Oliver, Julian, and Engel to DNF a few times each in order to leapfrog into first or second.
Crazier things have happened. Four years ago, Chronicle was in fifth at mid-season break, and came back from the month off with major upgrades to their ship. Delphine, flying for Chronicle at the time, started placing top three every race, and that’s the story of Delphine’s first individual championship: a surprise victory that no one saw coming.
No one saw Delphine’s defection to Provenance barely a month after raising the trophy for Chronicle coming, either. No one thought she’d change teams at all, but Provenance would’ve beenat the bottom of the most-likely lists if they had. She’d said before, on the record, that she didn’t think she and her then-husband, Oliver, would do well on the same team. Their divorce three seasons later, following Delphine’s fourth consecutive championship and Oliver’s obvious bitterness about it, proved the point.
Delphine leaving Chronicle opened up a seat. Val had her pick of pilots with the prestige her team was enjoying. It was a shock to everyone when she chose Julian, then a relatively unknown up-and-comer.
Unpredictable things do happen in Formula Zero.
Sara comes to collect Clarke after qualifying, picking her up just as Clarke’s checking her ship in to parc fermé. Clarke scrolls through the attestation language to the very bottom of the form and, for the first time in her life, pays attention to the row of tiny checkboxes at the end.Pilot requests a copy of the preliminary assessment. Pilot requests a copy of the final assessment. Pilot requests notification of Grand Prix clearance.
