Page 4

Cherry

“Here, don’t forget these.”

A pair of hardcore earmuffs fasten around my neck from behind and I turn to find Nicky standing behind me, his dark eyes scanning me up and down.

Today is race day and other than the glimpses through my camera lens, I’ve not seen him since our Thursday morning encounter.

“Thanks,” I breathe out, willing myself to ‘ just be cool.’ “And congrats on Pole.”

Yesterday had been the first qualifying session I’d experienced as part of the team, and I’d watched in awe as Nicky had set the fastest lap around the track and secured the best starting position in today’s race.

“It was nothing.” He waves away my praise like he hadn’t pulled out the perfect lap in the dying stages of qualifying yesterday to secure pole position. Like that flash of brilliance was just another Saturday for him.

Which, upon reflection, it probably was .

“How are you settling in?” he asks. His gravelly voice travels over my spine like butter over hot toast and has a similar effect on me.

Today he’s dressed in his Vortex Motors race suit, draped fully in red with a black stripe down either side of his body, looking like a racing God, and being this close to him, I’m melting inside.

“It-it’s been good,” I stammer. “Really good.”

He pushes a wayward strand of my hair over my shoulder, a small smile tickling his lips. “And Serena? Is she looking after you?”

I bristle. “I don’t need a keeper. I’m all grown up now, you know?”

A pair of chocolate eyes travel over me, lingering on his team shirt pulled tight across my chest, before he drags his gaze away, a muscle jumping in his cheek.

“I can see that.”

Oh my gosh, is he flirting with me?

“Hey, Cherry!”

My mind swirling with this turn of events—there’s no way that man is flirting with me —I look over and smile at Patrick Laurent, who’s standing next to Nicky, beaming back at me.

Patrick is Nicky’s new teammate, a rookie this season, and young, closer to my age.

He’s cute and sweet and has a French accent that makes my knees knock a little whenever we talk.

In the days since we were introduced, he’s made an effort to find me and make me feel welcome and I wonder if he’s as desperate for friends as I so obviously am.

Of course, the thought of this handsome, rich F1 driver needing me to make him feel less lonely is ridiculous and speaks to my delusions of grandeur.

The people who frequent the hallow halls of the F1 pit lane are so beyond me; if I let myself think about it too much, I’ll pack my bag and head straight home.

It’s that intimidating .

“You ready to watch the race today?” he asks. Unlike Nicky, he’s average height for a driver, with ocean-blue eyes, dirty blond hair, and a ready smile. There’s a warmth to him I find very attractive.

Not that I’m here to find a man, especially Nicky’s teammate, but I’m drawn to people with such good energy.

“Shouldn’t you be over there?” Nicky interrupts, pointing to the other side of the garage. I’ve heard tales of animosity between teammates, but having met Patrick, it seemed unlikely to be the case here. Being cross with this young man was like being annoyed with an overzealous puppy.

“Ah, yes, Nicolai,” Patrick answers, his eyes wide as saucers. “I was just heading there.”

Nicky’s jaw tightens. “Run along, then. You don’t want to lose focus before the race.”

I gape at him, wondering at his attitude. He’s being curt to the point of being rude. Is this the famous Ice Man people talk about? The cutthroat racing driver with ice water running through his veins?

Patrick’s chuckle has a nervous undercurrent to it, and I know he’s intimidated by the man towering over both of us.

It’s understandable, really. Nicky is a legend in this sport, a four-time world champion, who only just missed out on his fifth title last year by a measly three points.

I’ve heard it’s made him more hungry, more determined to get the job done and get it done early this year.

Perhaps that’s why he’s a crankier version of himself today?

“Right, well, I’ll see you later?” Patrick says to me and I nod, feeling Nicky move closer into my space as I wave goodbye to his teammate.

“Um, are you alright?” I ask, tipping my head back to look up at him when I turn to find him so close.

His head bobs, eyes fixed on the other side of the garage. “ I’m fine.”

I’m nervous now, both because of his proximity—he smells as good as he looks—and the anger I feel simmering inside of him. So, I do what I always do when I’m anxious like this; I make it all about me.

“Have I done something wrong?”

His eyes snap to mine and his expression softens. “Of course not.”

The tight feeling in my neck and shoulders loosens.

“Just be careful with the guys around here…” he trails off and I look around.

There are only guys around here. Who exactly do I need to be wary of?

“Sure thing,” I say, feeling it’s the right response.

He smiles now, trailing his fingers along the outside of my arm. I forget how to breathe.

What’s with all the touching?

“I’ve got to go.” His gaze flickers over me again and I feel it everywhere . “And I like seeing my name on your shirt.”

My face explodes into a bloom of colour as he throws me a smirk over his shoulder, walking away with the swagger of a man who knows he has it all and has it all together.

“Phew…” I exhale, gathering my muddled thoughts and putting them in order. He’s clearly just messing with you , my inner voice lectures. If I couldn’t keep the attention of Troy from Accounting, there’s no world in which Nicky could see me as anything other than a little sister.

My internal monologue pauses for a second before a little voice pipes up: But what about…?

I try to quiet the pesky voice in my mind, putting on my earmuffs and finding a spot at the back of the garage to pull together my plan for the day ahead.

But apparently, my inner voice is in a mood today and won’t stay quiet.

The words shimmer on the page in front of me while my mind instead insists on playing this one scene on repeat, in HD and surround sound.

It happened just over a month ago at my brother’s wedding.

Nicky was there as the best man and I was one of four bridesmaids.

I’d been so excited to see him, especially after Matt had offered me a role as part of Nicky’s social media team.

It had been like a dream come true and I couldn’t wait to say thank you to the man in person.

Unfortunately, the man in question was Nicolai Dimitrios, the Nicolai Dimitrios, who rarely makes it home for a visit, so the line of people wanting to get a piece of him was a mile long.

It wasn’t until the bridal party were invited to take their places on the dance floor with the bridal couple that I’d gotten my chance to talk to him.

The emcee had just called us up onto the floor and I’d been looking around to find Dave, the groomsman I’d been paired with for the day, only to see Nicky standing in front of me, offering me his hand with a grin that had even my Nanna swooning.

“Dance with me?”

I looked around, equal amounts thrilled and terrified. When I’d envisioned myself talking to Nicky this evening, it had never involved his hands on me.

“Please?”

I floated into his waiting arms, my heels taking the top of my head just up to his chin.

“You look beautiful tonight.”

My feet faltered, landing on one of his in response. “Sorry,” I cringed, pulling back and hoping for death.

He laughed, his big hands tightening on my hips, urging me back closer to his chest.

“I barely felt a thing,” he said, his lips twitching in the face of his blatant lie. I’d caught his wince; my heel went right into his foot .

Wonderful.

“Nicky.” I bypassed the foot-stomping incident altogether and pressed on with my planned speech. “Thank you for giving me a spot on your team. I won’t let you down.”

This was another lie. There was a very big chance I’d let him down. If I were to believe Troy, which I struggled not to do, screwing up was all I seemed capable of doing these days.

His eyes drifted over me, taking in the long, expertly styled curls tumbling down my back, a back that was bare thanks to the sexy but subtle halter neck dress the bride had chosen for me.

She’d picked it because she knew royal blue worked well with my red hair and blue eyes, and standing here now, with Nicky’s appreciative gaze roaming all over me, I was grateful she wasn’t a Bridezilla determined to make herself look better by making her bridesmaids look terrible.

“I know you won’t,” he responded to my vow, and I breathed a sigh of relief. If he believed in me, maybe all was not lost.

“And I won’t get in the way. You won’t have to worry about me.

” I knew from Matt that Nicky had had reservations about me joining the team, and I was desperate for him to know that I could do this.

That I was an adult who could take care of herself.

“You won’t notice me at all; it will be like I’m not even there. ”

“Impossible.”

My eyes snapped up to his, unsure I’d heard his whispered word correctly. He was gazing at me intently, his eyes painstakingly taking inventory of my face, finishing on my lips where they stayed. I licked my suddenly dry lips and watched his gaze darken as his head inched down closer to mine.

What. Was. Happening?

“And now, can we ask you all to join the bridal party on the dance floor? ”

His head jerked back, and I swayed towards him. He swallowed hard, his eyes looking anywhere but at me, and I cursed the emcee with every piece of my soul. Had he not spoken in that moment, this gorgeous man who was now holding me at a distance like I had the plague, was going to kiss me.

Wasn’t he?

“Um,” he cleared his throat and took another step away until we were barely touching hands. “It will be great having you on the team.”

I nodded, wanting to move back closer to him, to feel his body against mine, but knowing the moment had passed. Whatever spell had been cast over us was gone, and he was back to seeing me as his best friend’s little sister.

“Yes, great.” I shook my head and watched him take another step back. At this rate, he’d be in a different time zone by the end of this dance.

“Yes.”

We danced the rest of what became the longest song in the history of the world, with Nicky looking anywhere but me and me looking at the floor.

It was only when the next song started and we knew the torture was over that he stepped in closer and brushed his lips against my cheek—I may have had a mini-stroke in the process.

“I’ll see you soon, Cherry,” he murmured into my ear, his long legs taking him as far away from me as possible, where he stayed for the rest of the evening.

And that was it. One small moment that ebbed and flowed in significance in my mind.

There had been times over the last month when I was convinced that he was going to kiss me that night, and then I’d see him on Instagram with a supermodel on his arm and I knew I was mistaken.

He was an athletic God worshipped by millions and I was just a girl from a small town who got dumped by Troy the Ordinary. We don’t exist in the same universe.

“You ready? ”

Serena taps my shoulder and I start out of my memories.

“It’s time,” she mouths, pointing to the watch on her wrist.

“It is?” I take off my headphones and look around to find the place empty, all the pit crew out with the drivers and the cars at the starting grid.

“Yes, let’s go.”

I grab my empty notepad and my camera and follow her out to the VIP section of the garage, where I set up for the best vantage point to take photos. This is it, my time to show everyone that I deserve to be here. That I belong in this world.

“Here we go,” Serena whispers and I watch the way her face changes. It’s an almost indescribable feeling being here, in the thick of it, watching Nicky, the boy—man—I’ve known my whole life, do what he does best.

With my heart in my mouth, I watch the five red lights go out. Holding my breath, my eyes glued to car number eighteen, I see Nicky take the first corner in front, leading the pack, and know in my gut that he’s going to win this race.

And after ninety gruelling minutes, my instincts are proven right.

“He did it!” Serena jumps up and down next to me, her curls bouncing along with her, and I continue snapping photos.

Of the crowd—his home crowd—going wild. Of the mechanics and his team, hugging and crying.

Of the other cars coming in behind him. And then finally, of Nicky, now standing on top of his car, his arms raised in victory.

I can’t see it, because of his helmet, but I just know he’s smiling one of his rare smiles.

The one with all the teeth and all the eye crinkles. The one I know by heart.

“Let’s get our spot under the podium. ”

Serena grabs my hand, pulling me along behind her as we zig-zag our way to the front of the pack. The Melbourne crowd is rushing to get in behind us, and the atmosphere is euphoric.

It’s no wonder Nicky loves his job. Imagine getting to do this every week!

“Here he comes.” Serena is like a little narrator next to me, walking me through the podium ceremony, and I nod along, only half listening, my eyes locked on Nicky up on that top step.

“I don’t know how you grew up with someone who looks like that and didn’t fall in love with him,” she sighs, pointing to where he’s standing, looking solemn as the national anthem plays along with a chorus of one hundred thousand Aussie voices.

“I guess you just get used to it,” I lie, my heart jumping in my chest as I stare up at him.

The ceremony is finished and we watch as he puts the steering wheel-shaped trophy down on the ground, a boyish grin lighting his face as he sprays his bottle of champagne everywhere. There is confetti floating around and I pick up my camera, knowing just how I want my shot to turn out.

“Got it,” I whisper, staring at the digital screen. Nicky is beaming, looking up at the sky, champagne droplets and confetti floating in slow motion around him. He looks like a Greek adonis and my heart gives a brief flutter at the sight of him.

“He’s smiling at you.” My new friend elbows me, and I wrench my gaze from my camera to the man I’d just photographed. He catches my eye and winks at me. It’s over so quickly, I wonder if I imagined it.

“Yeah, sure. You just get used to it,” Serena mutters next to me with a laugh. I blink at her, my cheeks on fire from the attention he’d briefly bestowed on me, and I let out a laugh of my own .

What just happened? I wonder as Nicky bounds off the podium stage and into the arms of his team. And more importantly, how do I make it last forever?