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“Yes, we’re fine,” I grinned. “All sorted out now.”
“Have anything to do with Luca helping to secure the Maison de Klotho deal?” she asked. We both knew his letter had helped. Clothing companies rarely got huge deals with male F1 drivers, so having one agree to do some modeling for them was a huge offer, especially for a driver from a team with such a huge fan following. Hermes F1 was one of the oldest teams in the sport, and they didn’t need Maison de Klotho, but Maison de Klotho would certainly take Hermes.
“That, and some other stuff,” I responded honestly. I didn’t want to overshare with Lily yet. We were friends, but I felt like I had talked about all of this so much recently. I just didn’t have it in me to go around again.
“So… that kiss at Monza. You can’t tell me that kiss wasn’t at leastsomewhat real,” she prodded. I wanted to shrug her off, but when I turned to look at her, she had the world’s biggest grin on her face, one that could only possibly match Edward’s grin in terms of size. It was hard to be annoyed with Lily when she had a face that looked like a million suns beaming at me.
“Like I said, a polite woman never tells,” I responded cheekily. I knew I was winding her up, so I took another swig of my champagne and looked over in Luca's direction. He, Edward, and Oliver were deep in some conversation the three of them clearly found quite funny. Lily just chuckled at that and grabbed my hand, pulling me towards Edward and Luca. As we walked on over, I felt Luca put his hand on my waist, giving it a tight squeeze.
“Nice little interview you gave there,” he said with a smirk. He looked a little too pleased with what I had said, and I rolled my eyes, giving him a small shove.
“Don’t let it go to that big head of yours,” I quipped back.
“You know what I think this calls for – shots!” Oliver called out, coming back from the bar with enough shots to feed a small army.
“Absolutely not,” I insisted. I had already broken my alcohol rule at practically every race this season, but I was not about to start doing shots, even if we didn’t get into our cars until Friday.
Before I could offer another rebuttal to what Oliver was clearly going to say, Noah blurted out, “Geez, no wonder they call you the boring twin.” The group started to ‘ooooh’ as if Noah was about to get in trouble. The fact that NoahfuckingHendriks had called me boring was the pot calling the kettle black. That man’s life consisted of video games and racing – nothing else.I wanted to retort something rude, but I knew that would only spur them on more. So instead, I did the unthinkable – I grabbed one of Oliver’s shots and downed it –like the fucking champion I knew I was.
The crowd erupted into applause. I tried to hide my gagging as soon as the tequila hit the back of my throat; tequila was not my favorite thing to drink, but the look on Oliver’s face was worth it. He clearly was not expecting me to do that. I winked at him as I put the shot glass back on the table. The rest of the group took their shots, still clearly in amusement over my antics.
As the night progressed, I was starting to feel more comfortable. Another round of shots – this time vodka – was consumed, and then a few more glasses of champagne. I was starting to feel good, perhaps a little too good. After coming back from the bathroom, I tripped over and landed on Henri, who just laughed as he caught me.
“I think Peaches has probably had enough for this evening, huh?” he asked me in a soft voice, although it was loud enough for Oliver and Luca to hear. I just giggled at him, wiggling my finger in his face.
“Noppppppe,” I said, popping the P at the end. Henri chuckled, but before he could help me walk further, Luca came up to me, a huge, cheesy grin on his face.
“Come on, Amore,” he whispered in my ear. I scoffed at the silly nickname, even though I was starting to get those butterflies again. It’s as if Luca could tell that I was about to push away from him, demanding to be allowed to stay at the bar, because he followed it up with, “If you come back with me now, I promise I’ll let you drive to the track on ThursdayandFriday?”
It's as if my drunk brain couldn’t handle the excitement. I nodded a little too excitedly and grumbled, “Fine,Mr. Rossi,you got yourself a deal.” I grabbed his hand and shook it, making Lily, Oliver, and Henri laugh in the process.We said our goodbyes, and I wobbled my way out of the bar. Fortunately, Luca was able to call us a cab, and we made it back to my apartment fairly quickly.
“You know, I’m not even that tired,” I slurred out, pointing my fingers at Luca. “I’m going to watch a movie when I get back.” Luca just chuckled, nodding at my insistence.
“Only if I get to pick it,” he insisted.
“Fine, but don’t pick something boring,” I argued.
* * *
Luca
As soon as we walked into Georgia’s apartment, she plopped herself down on the couch and kicked off her heels. I followed her, bringing with me a glass of water, a hydration packet, and some liver supplements. At first, she stuck her tongue out at me, insisting she couldn’t possibly be hungover in the morning. I did my best not to scoff at that. Georgia didn’t strike me as someone who got drunk often; she was definitely going to be hungover in the morning. Her tolerance was shit, as evidenced by the fact she was very drunk after two shots and a couple of glasses of champagne.
But I knew if I didn’t convince her to take the items, she would regret it tomorrow. Plus, I don’t think Isabelle would be pleased with me if I showed up at the paddock tomorrow with a completely hungover Georgia – something told me I would be blamed for that one.
So, again, I made her a deal – take the items, and I would let her pick the movie. I didn’t want to watch a film, and I knew she was just being difficult, but I figured she was drunk enough to fall asleep in all of five minutes.
Plus, it was pretty adorable seeing her this drunk. She was much touchier than usual, grabbing onto my arm as she got into the cab. At one point, she had almost fallen asleep, and her head had just barely drifted onto my shoulder before she woke up.I knew it was pathetic that I was so excited about her just barely touching me. I was like a high-school teenager whose crush had shown him some minor attention.
Georgia drank the hydration packet and then scooted closer to me on the couch, grabbing a blanket from behind her. As if it was completely normal, she put the blanket over us both and mumbled something that sounded like, “Wouldn’t wantyouto be cold.” I tried not to laugh at that as she snuggled closer into the blanket.
She had selected Atonement, which shouldn’t have surprised me. After a few minutes into the movie, I looked down at her, expecting her to be asleep. But she wasn’t. In fact, she didn’t even look like she was watching the movie at all. I had seen that look before, and something told me her brain was a million lightyears away.
As she began to sink a little more into herself, I took my arm and wrapped it around her shoulder, pulling her closer to my chest. I half expected her to pull away, but she didn’t. Instead, Georgia leaned in and put her head on my chest, snuggling up closer into my warmth. I tried not to let a smile creep onto my lips, but it was impossible. Here I was with the most beautiful girl in the paddock, wrapped up in my arms.
I was worried after last Sunday that she would never speak to me again, that the progress we had made would be ruined. It’s why Maison de Klotho was the first call I made on Monday. Well, one of the reasons why. Besides the fact that I did want to do something to make Georgia forgive me, the idea that she could possibly lose her seat was disastrous to me because it meant that I wouldn’t see her at every race weekend.
And that had begun to become an unbearable thought.
