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

James has been cryptic for the past two days, only sending minimal texts to let me know he’s okay and figuring things out. For the first time in the duration of our friendship, he’s putting himself before what he thinks I may want, and I couldn’t be prouder of him. I will give him as much space as he needs, and, once he’s ready, I will be there for him in any and every way he needs me.

Gabriel and Adrian were asked to test out some of the changes the team has made to their cars, and we’re all flying to Maranello together. I’m getting sick of traveling every week, but, at least with them by my side, it’s more tolerable.

Gabriel keeps drawing me as I read the book we started almost a week ago. He turns his sketchbook whenever he finishes a drawing, a proud look on his handsome face. I give him a smile every time, and he goes back to sketching me again when I shift my position, careful not to put pressure on my new tattoo. It’s been healing well so far, but I’ve only had it for a few days.

“How many more do you want to create? There will be too much of me in your book,” I say with amusement, but he frowns at me.

“There is no such thing as too much of you, Valentina, stop being silly,” he scolds, and Adrian chuckles beside me.

“I hope I will never be that wrapped around someone’s finger. I don’t ever want to say garbage like that,” my brother says, earning himself a smack on the arm from me. “Hey, what? Gabriel didn’t use to be this way, this romantic. I’m scared it’ll happen to me,” he explains, and I cover my mouth to keep from laughing.

Gabriel leans forward in his chair because he’s across from us and wants to make sure his teammate hears his next words clearly.

“It will, Adrian, and, when it does, I’ll remind you of this moment,” he promises, briefly wiggling his eyebrows at him.

Gabriel winks at me and leans back in his chair, going back to drawing. My brother scoffs, and my boyfriend smiles.

“You’re going to fall in love so hard,” my boyfriend adds, and I let out the laugh I was trying to suppress.

“You’re both annoying. I’m going to find someone else to sit with,” he complains, catching the glance of a beautiful, curvy brunette across from him. She stares down at the seat beside her, inviting him to join her. “Whoever is in charge of my life, thank you,” he says before walking toward her, a smirk on his lips.

I shake my head, my focus shifting back to Gabriel, who turns his sketchbook to show me a Formula One car with the number nine on it. Next to it, he drew me in a race suit with a helmet tucked between my hip and arm. A lump appears in my throat as I try to tell him how stunning it is.

“I know, it’s not that great, but it’ll be better when I get to draw it from real life,” he says and turns his sketchbook again to work on his art.

“You’re the most talented artist I’ve ever met, Gabriel,” I finally manage to croak out, and he notices the change in my emotions.

He sits down next to me, taking my hand and placing a kiss to the back of it.

“It’ll happen, I’ll make sure of it, even if I have to give up my own seat to get you one,” he says, and I lean away from him, surprise probably all over my face. His thumb traces my bottom lip as he smiles. “I’d do anything to see your dream come true, mon tournesol.”

My eyes move to my brother, who’s close enough to have heard this whole conversation. He mouths the words ‘me too’, and I bring my gaze back to Gabriel’s.This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.

“It will happen. We will make sure of it.”

“No, you won’t, I won’t let you. You can’t be my savior in this, no matter how much you want to be. This is my fight, and I’ll make it happen, just like I was taught.”

Both of my Ferrari drivers have been in the car, testing the new upgrades, for the past hour. Meanwhile, I’ve been talking to the strategists, engineers, and Lorenzo Mattia, trying to learn as much as I’m allowed to about the procedures. I watch an impressed look slip onto the team principal’s face every time I add something to the conversation, like a suggestion about the front wing that could help them slightly increase their speed down a straight.

Grandpa taught me a lot about the workings of an F1 car, and I’ve been doing my best to study them as they evolve, something that seems to be earning me plus points with Lorenzo at the moment.

“You know, I remember the first time I ever saw you,” he says to me as we’re watching Adrian’s lap time improve.

I turn to him, his smile contagious.

“You were this tall.” He holds his hand a meter above the ground. “And you had this look of awe on your face that I haven’t seen on many people, let alone little children like you were,” he goes on, staring off into the distance as he recalls the events of that day. “Your father told me afterward that you wanted to be a Formula One driver, and I remember telling him if you proved to me you had talent, I’d let you race for my team one day.”

I have no idea what to respond, but I do my best to fight the tears of hope shooting into my eyes.

“Your Nonno and Papà were two of the best drivers in the history of racing. What they had in them, I see in you,” he says, pointing at my heart.

All my life, I’ve been told the opposite from the men in charge. I’ve been told I lack the spirit of a racer, that I lacked what my family had. The tears stream down now because I can’t stop them, I don’t want to anymore. Lorenzo gives my shoulder a squeeze.

“Avere fede.” Have faith.

“Sempre,” I reply, and he gives me another proud smile before walking away.

“It’s going to rain,” someone else says in Italian, and I’m impressed by how much I already understand. Gabriel is a great teacher.

Adrian is the first to return, his car already dripping from the sudden shower pouring down. He gets out and walks toward me, soaking wet. I try to run from him, but he catches me, lifts me into the air, and transfers the rain onto my clothes. Annoyance is replaced by pure joy, and laughter leaves me as he drops me to the floor again.

“If I have to suffer, so do you,” he says, his words muffled because of his helmet. I nudge him in the ribs, but he doesn’t even move a centimeter. “You should probably change. Your clothes are soaked,” he points out, and I nudge him again, this time hard enough to make him bend over. “Yeah, I deserve that one.”

We both burst into laughter. Adrian walks away, probably to put on some dry clothes, but my eyes fixate on the rain.

“Is anyone driving right now?” I ask the man in charge of giving the green light for any driver to go on track.

“No. Why?” he replies, and I smile at him.

“Do you mind if I—” I cut off, simply pointing at the track.

He follows my finger before giving me a thumbs up and focusing on his screens again. I spot Gabriel getting out of his car, but I’m on a mission.

Warm drops of water hit my skin as soon as I step outside and make my way onto the track. I spin around once I’m at the start and finish line. My feet carry me around while I let the rain drench my dress. I can’t explain the feeling of freedom spreading through me, the adrenalin coursing through my veins, but it comes close to the one racing brings me.

Music fills my ears then, and I shift my gaze to the speakers at the fence next to me. James Arthur’s voice comes through them, and I spin once more. The moment I stop, Gabriel’s arms are around me, guiding me to the music. I beam up at him, and he uses the opportunity to wrap his lips around mine.

“You hate dancing,” I remind him as water soaks his hair. My hands lift to it, pushing it out of his beautiful face.

“With you, I’d dance anywhere, anytime, even in the pouring rain,” he says, twisting me around once just to bring me against his chest.

An uncontrollable giggle leaves me, and he smiles in return. I can barely keep my eyes open as more water hits them, but it’s worth it; everything up to this moment has been worth it.

“I’m the luckiest woman in the world because you fell in love with me,” I say, blinking away the rain to watch his features soften.

“I didn’t fall, ma chérie, I raced.”

He plants his lips on mine, smiling against my mouth before spinning me around one last time.

“I always want to be the man you deserve.”

“You are, mon soleil, always.”

Gabriel kisses me again as the entire world around us blurs into nothing more than the noise of drops hitting asphalt.