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“Good to see you found some clothes." Before I could retort something back to him, Lizzie was returning my frantic call.
“Please tell me you have some good news,” I spit out, giving Luca an annoyed glare.
“Unfortunately, Georgia, when the Hermes F1 coordinator called to get the rooms next to each other – the hotel heard two rooms side by side, they booked you a suite with two rooms in it, and with the grand prix this weekend, the hotel is completely booked…” She trailed off at the end, but the truth was I had stopped listening after the word “unfortunately.”
Luca could tell from my face that the news was bad because as I turned to him, he slammed his bag down on the sofa and sat down, letting out an enraged sigh. Before I could say anything, he was opening his suitcase and unpacking his toiletries.
I was seething. I had one request, and it was broken. Luca looked at his phone, and his face said it all. He had been told the same thing by Matteo.
“Just stay out of my way,” I bit out, rushing back into my room and slamming the door.
As soon as I was ready to head to my VIP experience, I rushed out of my room, not giving Luca another thought.
* * *
The VIP experience had been beautiful and informative, and it was clear from the guests’ reactions that we had made some good progress with a couple of potential sponsors, fashion house Maison de Klotho being one of them. The majority of sponsors asked me questions about the car, but one sponsor in particular had asked me about Luca – well, more like congratulated me. I did my best not to roll my eyes and pretend to barf as Lily stood behind the sponsor, staring at the interaction, all while giggling like a small child. Lily was getting far too much enjoyment out of this.
I made sure to complain to Isabelle about the hotel room situation, but she made it clear I would not be switched to a different hotel than the rest of the team.
"At least this means you and Luca will be on time to the paddock," she said with what I thought was too much of an attitude, considering I was the one who had to endure Luca Rossi inmyhotel room, not her.
After the strategy meeting, I returned to the hotel to get ready for dinner. Truth be told, I was incredibly excited to have dinner with Henri, Éliott, and Oliver. It had been so long since the four of us had hung out, and I had a lot to fill them in on. Plus, I had sent Edward a box of Krispy Kreme donuts, which I had conveniently loaded full of peaches, so I was eager to hear about his utter disappointment when opening the box. Edward had gotten a sponsorship from the donut brand because of his absolute love of donuts. When we were kids, he would easily knock back half a dozen in a sitting and then go back for more.
When I arrived at the front door of my –our– hotel room, I took a big breath.
You can do this, Georgia; you can survive this weekend, I said to myself. As I walked into the living room of our suite, I heard the shower running.
Perfect, I can make a quick getaway. I immediately ran to the safety of my suite room and quickly changed into a lovely blush pink dress. Matched with my light tan heels and my Cartier bracelet, I, for the first time in a while, felt relaxed and beautiful. I was going to have dinner with my brother and best friends, and for once, all felt right in the world.
Before I could truly reminisce in my moment of relaxation and clarity, I walked out of my room and was, once again, hit with the reality of my situation – a shirtless reality of my situation.
There, standing in front of me, was none other than Luca Rossi, fresh out of the shower, steam still pouring out of the bathroom. His towel was wrapped around his waist, hung rather too low around his hips, and it looked as though it could fall to the floor any moment.
God, I almost wish it would, I immediately thought, before internally chastising myself, pushing that comment deep down to a hidden place.
What is wrong with you, Georgia? This is Luca Rossi – the playboy both your teams have saddled you with because he can’t keep it in his pants.Unfortunately for me, before I could finish my internal conversation with myself, Luca had already turned to face me, and I had been caught staring – again.
“Enjoying the view?” Luca asked with a wink. I immediately snapped out of my thoughts and turned away, pointedly giving him my shoulder with a huff.
“Any chance you can put some clothes on? This is a shared area, in case you forgot,” I responded snarkily.
“And deny you the opportunity to get a second peak of your favorite racer? What kind of man do you think I am?” He teased as I grimaced because now I knew that he had seen that post-Miami photo that had caught me staring at him shirtless in the cool-down room.
“A man that has probably never been told to put his shirt back on by a woman, but there’s a first time for everything, Luca, so put it on,” I hissed back.He chuckled in response to my defiance. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his form in the mirror in front of me. He was directly behind me and starting to inch closer. He kept moving towards me, and before I could react and move towards the door, I felt Luca’s breath on my neck, which caused a slight chill to go down my spine.
“If you play your cards right, Amore, you might be able to see more of me,” he whispered softly into my ear. It was as if my body had forgotten who he was because I could feel warmth start to build inside of me, my legs becoming a tad more shaky than I cared to admit. Having Luca this close to me, his warm breath on my neck, it felt like my nerves were being set on fire. I tried to respond to him, come up with something witty, but at that moment, all I could think about was how close his lips were to my neck, how good his breath felt on my skin.
So, instead, before I embarrassed myself any further, I turned around and headed toward the door, but before I could stop myself, I yelled back into the room, “Well, hopefully, I have a losing deck of cards, because what I really want is to see less of you, so if you could turn that into making yourself disappear – I’d be delighted!”
As I slammed the door, I knew the bastard had a smirk on his face. Not my finest comeback, but it would have to do in a pinch – a real pinch.
ChapterSeven
BOYS, AM I RIGHT?
Georgia
I huffed it straight to the elevator, grumbling to myself along the way, not paying attention to any of my surroundings. Unfortunately for me, I was too unaware to notice that I had just stepped into the elevator with not one but three BBC journalistsandMichael Clifton, one of F1 TV’s presenters, dressed impeccably for whatever dinner they had scheduled that evening. The whole damn media pen was standing there, clearly amused and staring at me as I muttered some inconsiderate thoughts about Lucaout loud.
