Rush: Part One & Two (The Pitstop Series Book 3)

I’m sitting in Adrian’s box, praying the start will be just as good as the Qualifying. My brother got pole yesterday with Gabriel in second, Kyle Hughes in third, James in fourth, and Jonathan Kent in fifth. Eduardo, who I haven’t spoken to since I ended our agreement, is in sixth, right in front of Cameron and Leonard.

All of the drivers are lined up on the grid, waiting for the green light to take the formation lap. They need to warm up their tires to have more grip and charge their cars’ batteries before the start. Meanwhile, the nervous feeling in my chest is spreading until it’s everywhere, and I can’t sit still anymore when they line up again.

The lights go out, and Adrian gets a great start, but not as good as Gabriel, who pushes past him and moves into the first position. Kyle and Jonathan crash into each other and fall out in the first corner. Thankfully, it is not a bad crash and both drivers make it out without an injury. Their cars, however, are wrecked. I know the Mercedes team is probably cursing and screaming right now, but my full attention is on the small screens.

“Oh my God, everyone! Look who it is! Valentina Romana,” a familiar voice says, sounding more condescending and sarcastic than anyone I’ve ever met.

I turn my head and almost lose my composure. I don’t reply nor do I let him know how surprised I am to see him here. I keep it all inside as my mind screams at the universe for bringing this man back into my life.

“How’ve you been, beautiful?” he asks next, making terrible shivers run down my spine.

“I was great,” I start and then look him up and down, placing a disgusted expression on my face. “Now I wish I was anywhere else in the world,” I go on, focusing on the screens again.Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Don’t be like that. I’m very happy we get to see each other,” the prince says, but I roll my eyes.

“Well, then that makes one of us.” The hatred I have for this royal brat is beyond any I’ve ever felt. He has this way of annoying me until I explode.

“Come on, Tina, don’t give me the cold shoulder. I’ve missed you,” he says and takes a step toward me, still keeping enough distance so I can’t ‘accidentally’ kick him in the shin. Not that I would, considering he’s a royal and I’d get arrested for touching any of his white-blonde bleached hairs.

“It’s Valentina to you, Christian,” I remind him because I don’t like his nickname for me, I never have.

“Then it is ‘Your Royal Highness’ to you,” he replies, and I shake my head. He’s already pissing me off, and we’ve barely spoken three words. How am I going to make it an entire season in one academy with him?

“Isn’t there someone else you can blind with your box-dyed hair, Your Royal Highness?” I ask, annoyed, and his brown eyes go wide. Amusement sparkles in them as he crosses his trained arms in front of his chest.

“There is no one better than you,” he says, and I’m barely able to keep my palm from connecting with my forehead.

The rest of the fifty-six laps in the Spanish Grand Prix, the third race of the season, goes by but slowly so. Luckily, Christian leaves me alone for the most part.

Adrian and Gabriel are a couple of seconds apart now, and I watch James, who is battling with his teammate. Eduardo attempts to fight James’ overtake, but my best friend’s tires are younger, allowing him to move back into third place. Cameron somehow is up in fifth, and I’m hoping he will remain there.

After the longest one and a half hours of my life, Gabriel wins the race, Adrian comes in second, James third, Eduardo fifth, and Cameron sixth. I walk outside with the crowd of people and wait for the three most important men in my life to drive their cars to the first, second, and third place signs.

The first one to come is James, then Adrian, and lastly Gabriel. They all get out of their cars, and my brother walks over to where I’m standing with the rest of his crew to give all of us a hug. James moves to his team, but also comes to high-five me.

Meanwhile, Gabriel is getting out of his car and pulling his helmet off. He walks over to his engineers and mechanics, giving them hugs to celebrate. When he spots me on Adrian’s side, he jogs over and grabs my face to plant his lips on mine.

It’s a short kiss, a sweet one, that makes my body tingle. A blush settles on my cheeks, and I put my fingers to my lips as soon as he steps back. Gabriel brings a heartwarming, happy smile to his face, and I can’t help but return it. I hardly ever get to see him this joyful.

He walks away to talk to the man, who is patiently waiting for him to do the post-race interview.

“Congratulations, Gabriel Biancheri,” Günther Willhelm, a famous Formula One driver who has been retired for thirty years, says and pats my boyfriend’s shoulder. Gabriel nods, his smile never fading. “You had good pace, a well-planned strategy, and this is your second win of the season.”

“Yes, we had great pace overall this weekend, and although the tires lost grip toward the end, we made it over the finish line in one piece, and a one-two for the team, which is always a success.”

They continue talking until Günther moves on to interview a disappointed Adrian. He’s hiding his feelings better than I would have expected, but I see right through him, just like he would me.

My eyes drift over to Gabriel, who is now talking to James. When he catches me, he winks, and I melt. I feel like a fan in a crowd, catching the attention of a celebrity. No, I feel like I just grabbed the attention of the most handsome man I’ve ever met, and he winked at me, making my body react in all kinds of ways.

When the interviewer is done, all three boys whisper something to each other before they turn around to, not very subtly, blow a kiss at me. My face turns a bright red before I let out a small laugh. My silly boys…

They move onto the podium, and, soon, my home country’s anthem plays through the speakers. Then follows the Italian one with everyone from the Ferrari team singing along. I’m smiling at the three idiots on the podium.

A wave of jealousy temporarily takes over my body when I think about how much I want to win a Grand Prix and stand on that podium. I push all those thoughts and every jealous feeling to the back of my mind to focus on how proud I am of Gabriel, Adrian, and James.

Each one of them receives their own trophy, and then they take out the champagne and start spraying it around, which is routinely done after every race.

The celebration is over soon, and I get pulled back inside by the crowd. I’m trying to find a way out of the cheering Ferrari team, but I’m struggling. Luckily, I feel a hand wrap around my wrist, and seconds later, I’m standing in front of Gabriel inside an empty room.

His mouth finds mine before I can even say a word. He tastes like champagne, and, for the first time in almost a year, I don’t mind the taste of alcohol on my tongue. All I can think about is how addicting his full lips feel as they claim mine.

When he releases them, I have to hold onto his arms for support.

“That one just keeps going,” I say when I can’t stop my head from spinning. I hear Gabriel chuckle and bring my eyes to his. There is only pure happiness in them. “Congratulations on your win,” I add, and he grins at me, flashing me his stunning dimples.

“Thank you, chérie,” he whispers before he presses another kiss to my lips.

“So, where are we going to celebrate?” He purses his lips, and my mind drifts.

I don’t know what he has planned, but I’d much rather take the celebrations back to our hotel. We finally have time to be alone, and I want to take advantage of it, to feel his hands all over my body. To have him study me while I memorize all of him. I want to touch him, make him moan my name over and over…

“Just a bar downtown,” he replies, and I look at him with a confused expression.

“What?” I ask, not remembering my question from before.

“You asked where we are going to celebrate, and I told you a bar downtown, but if you prefer, we could also celebrate alone,” he offers and presses his body against mine.

“Aren’t you exhausted?” His hands drop to my ass before he grabs it, making an involuntary gasp escape me.

“Yes, but never too exhausted to pleasure you…” He trails off and lowers his head to my neck, nuzzling it to make me giggle.

“Okay, stop, you have to shower,” I remind him, and he steps back, his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You don’t want me all hot and sweaty?” he asks, and I bite the inside of my cheek before I respond.

“Not if that sweat doesn’t come from us fucking all night long.” A proud smile spreads over his lips, and I can’t help the one on my face.

“You’re so hot,” he simply replies and smacks my ass. With one more kiss, he disappears from the room, probably taking a shower.

My mind roams, my heart throbs in my chest, and I smile from ear to ear. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to get it somewhat under control.

After a few minutes of consideration, I decide to go to the bathroom and figure out a way to make my outfit more ‘bar’ appropriate. I take out the small makeup bag in my purse and apply a thin line of black eyeliner to my lid. Then, I guide my red lipstick over my lips.

I pull my blouse out of my jeans and undo the first two buttons, then the last three. I take both ends and tie them together so the knot hangs just beside my belly button. My jeans and long-sleeved blouse don’t reveal too much, even after I make some changes.

Without overthinking it any further, I step out of the bathroom and make my way to where I think Gabriel might be. He’s wearing his team shirt and long black jeans, looking at the monitors in the conference room. His hair is messy, as always, but he’s too gorgeous for his own good.

Gabriel walks out of the room, appearing to be in a rush. There is a team briefing after each race he has to go to, and it looks like he’s late. His eyes scan my body, stopping him dead in his tracks.

“Wow,” he says and steps toward me. “You’re unbelievably beautiful, do you know that?” he asks, and I click my tongue.

“Tell me something I don’t know, mon amour,” I reply, and he lifts my chin to grab my entire attention. His eyes sparkle at the way I just addressed him.

“It doesn’t matter how many times I look at you, you’ll always have my heart racing,” he says and gives me a peck on the lips.

He leaves the room too quickly for me to reply.

“I finally understand how you got into the academy. Your brother couldn’t help you so you snatched yourself the other Ferrari driver. Glad he could get you a spot,” Christian says from behind me.

I have no explanation for why my entire world comes crashing down on me from the thought or why tears sting my eyes. What if the only reason they recruited me was because of Gabriel? Or Adrian? Or even worse, what if they bribed the team? Anger consumes me as I turn to Christian Crovetto, but I don’t stop it either. It laces hatred into my next words.

“Says the prince of Monaco, who merely had to snap his fingers to get a spot,” I start and keep walking until I’m in his face. “I have worked harder than you’ve ever had to because society was built for you, for privileged white boys that treat women like incompetent, baby-making objects. Let me tell you something and listen closely now: you’re nothing special. You may have a title, more money than you could possibly need, and an attitude problem, but you’re nothing compared to me. I come from a family of racers, it runs in my blood. It fuels me, and I will have you choking on my fucking dust this season, Your Highness,” I spit the last two words, but this man is smiling at me the entire time I speak.

“I’d rather have you choking on my dick, Tina,” he replies, and it’s my turn to smile then.

“I can’t choke on something that doesn’t exist.” Amusement leaves his face, and I take a step back. “Sexually harass me again, and I won’t be the one you’ll have to deal with, the FIA will be.” I walk away and back into the private room Gabriel and I were in earlier.

My knees cave in until I’m on the floor, my hands shaking as they cover my mouth to keep my sobs at bay.

I’m terrified he’s right, that I wasn’t enough and needed both Adrian and Gabriel to get into the academy. I hope Christian is wrong because my confidence has begun to fade, and it won’t return if there’s truth behind his speculations.