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A man’s voice sounds next to me, snapping me out of my Vio bubble. “Hi, I’m Mark, and I’ll be your waiter tonight. Would you guys like anything to drink?”
I wait for her to tell him what she wants first. Her eyes go to me, trying to see if I’m going to say something but stay silent.
“Still water for me, please,” she tells him softly.
“Same for me.” I nod in his direction.
He has a notepad in his hand but doesn’t write anything down. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
Once he’s gone, I look back at Vio, who sets down her menu.
“So what’s it like to be going to the third round of the Australian Open.” My dramatics take a hold of me as I say those words.
She chuckles. “It feels good, but I’m nervous about going head-to-head with Letty tomorrow.” Her tone is genuine as she shares her worries with me.
“You don’t have to worry. Letty might be good, but you have the ability to be better.”
“I doubt that,” she whispers as if she doesn’t want me to hear.
“Don’t say that.” I grab her hand that’s on the table as she plays with her fingers. “Even if you don’t win tomorrow. One day, you’ll beat her, and if you don’t beat her, someone else will. Don’t put yourself down. I hate it when you do that.”
“Sorry.”
“Stop saying sorry. You don’t have to apologize for anything. You are Violetta Luna. Be proud of that! I wish you could see what everyone else sees because it’s outstanding.” I pause. “The crowd was cheering at your win; everyone was rooting for you. I want you to start rooting for yourself.”
A blush creeps onto her cheeks, but she quickly hides it as she softly rips her hand away from mine.
I stop her hand from moving any further. “Don’t deprive me of that rosy hue on your cheeks. You’re cute when you blush.” My tone is absolute, not flirty, because to me my words are fact.
“Stop, you’re going to make me blush even more!” She protests.
I laugh. “Is Violetta Luna embarrassed?” I tease.
“No, but you know what you’re doing.”
“And what exactly am I doing?” I ask.
Her expression changes with my words. “Nothing.” She tries to change the subject and I follow along. Knowing that talking about us flirting is a conversation we shouldn’t be having considering our circumstances.
“When are you going for testing?” She’s interested.
“I won’t be able to stay after your match tomorrow.” My face is apologetic. I would love to stay here with her and forget about all my responsibilities. But I have a career and a life that’s so painstakingly not in Violetta’s vicinity.
I haven’t talked to my girlfriend in days, let alone seen her in months. She’s going to be asking about me soon, especially with the ten unread messages sitting in my phone currently. But I don’t care. I’m here for Violetta and it’s not like I’m cheating on her. I may be attracted to Vio, but I am trying to keep what we have platonic.
Which is really fucking hard to do.
“That’s okay. You have your whole Formula One career ahead of you.” Her smile gets bigger with her words.
Sometimes I wonder if she’s just as supportive of me as I am of her. Knowing Vio, she probably is. If that’s the case, then she’s gotten hotter in the last minute or so.
“Yep, you know I have that whole bad boy persona to carry on.”
“Yea, right,” she replies.
“You wound me.”
“You can handle it. You’re a big boy.” Her laugh is a melody to my ears.
