Lovers Lessons

Chapter 17

The three guys who came in first position; which is pole position, as well as second and third position had to do some interviews, and so that meant that Hugo and Sawyer were going over there together, and the guy that I learnt was named Diego was also there, and he was the person in the first place position.

Hugo only came back and got his coffee and didn't even notice my existence to be honest, he just took the to go cup and left to his press conference, and now I watched him on the tv in the hotel room with a packet of popcorn on my lap instead of Rosé and crackers since I didn't want to order any room service.

The popcorn was pretty good though.

I was sitting on the couch that was positioned in front of the tv, I saw everything clearly, and I noticed just how he was so damned different with other people that it almost made me pissed off. Or maybe he was a good manipulator or something.

I glare at the tv screen, crunching on the popcorn.

He was freakishly charming, cocky but also sweet and I knew the girls who watched Formula 1 were definitely staring at the tv with expressions of awe directed at my boss who I actually really didn't like being around because it was clear there was something off with us and we could not get along even if we were offered millions of dollars to be friends.

He was smiling at the best times, listening intently when the interviewer spoke, or well, he faked listening really well, and all the jokes and shit shared made me want to roll my eyes because he was actually too damn charming that it was mind boggling to me.

I was so engrossed in my annoyance with Hugo that I half forget that Sawyer Sean was there too, looking handsome and being his sweet genuine self the entire time.

There was no games with him. He was being him. Unlike someone else out there.

Thankfully I get a call that directs my attention away from the tv, and I answer the phone, not checking the caller ID because I didn't care as long as it directed my attention to something that wasn't this conference or well as long as it wasn't Hugo Rowan Blackburn calling me.

"YOUR BOSS IS ON TV!"

I stare at the floor at that. Well. Nice.

Theodore called me, and his first words were directed to the one person I was annoyed at. So now I'm annoyed with two men, which is not too unusual for the female population.

"Yeah, he is a formula 1 driver so he is presently there Theo, he's on the tv almost every other weekend too." I say dryly, taking another handful of popcorn and shoving it into my mouth and of course I'm open mouth chewing because who gives a fuck, I was alone anyway.

"Thats cool, you get to travel and your boss is literally Hugo fuc-"

"Language." I hiss before he can finish that word and he huffs silent, probably huffing about how Im his sister and not his mother but that was like not the case, biologically I was the sister but in reality I was the mother too, I was multi tasking.

"Hugo Blackburn is your boss, and thats freaking cool."

"Yeah but you know not to talk about it publicly, okay? Just let it be Theo."

"Yeah and thats why im freaking out to you specifically not anyone else." He says, explaining to me and his words are so slow coming out of his mouth that it almost sounds condescending which makes me roll my eyes.

Men.

Boys.

"We'll i've got to sleep Theodore, tomorrows race day."

"And we'll all be watching!" He says a little too excitedly and I shake my head, just now realizing that I haven't heard the others voices which confuses me because these three usually call me altogether. "Wheres the other two?"

"Asleep, its 3am here."

I stare blankly at the tv. "So why are you awake?"

"Boredom and nosiness."

Oh my goodness.

"You're a piece of work." I say, thankful I didn't have a Theodore here on top of already having a Hugo here which was enough for me.

"I get that a lot, more often than you think."

+++

I get it.

Hugo was tall. Hugo was good looking. Hugo had dimples. He had dark curly hair and pretty eyes and he knew how to charm people someway like he was a witch.

But I had no fucking clue how many female fans he actually had till I was walking beside Jordan on race day this fine Sunday morning on this warm day to get to Hugo and give him his waters and it was actually crazy.

In one row there was a full row of woman using shirts that spelt out BLACKBURN, each t-shirt with one letter of his last name, and then there was a damned lot of people holding posters with his number 1, on it or literal cardboard cutouts of his face and what not.

It surprised me for some reason, probably because he was an ass. But nonetheless it was kind of crazy to see so many people support him, but then again everyone had hundreds of thousands of supporters in these stands, F1 was a big deal.

I get to Hugo, giving him the water and he looks to me, not saying a word, earphones in his one ear and so I don't speak to him, I just eye the crowd, marveling out how huge and how amazing and well, kind of surreal this all really is.

"Its a lot to take in." I mumble without thinking much about it, but instead of ignoring me, he actually speaks back, "Its a good kind of overwhelming though."

He's right. I know i've had some negative thoughts, and I don't only want to sound like an ungrateful bitch, truth is I enjoy the Formula 1 experience, its really cool.

its something I really didn't mind being apart of, even if it meant I had to force myself to withstand Hugo, who some people apparently do like.

But hey, he's not that bad... sometimes.

I look at him, and because I look over at him he looks down at me, and I don't want to say good-luck because he's a douche so I just glare.

And he raises a brow, "What're you doing with your eyes Avery?"

I stop glaring immediately and he smirks, taking another sip of water and looking away and I want to punch him in that stupid handsome face. Does he really not know my name or does he enjoy calling me random names that start with the letter A?

I had no clue 

"Bad luck." I say, even if it sounds stupid and childish and kind of weird, intentionally poking my finger hard into his bicep, my nail hurting him hopefully, but he doesn't seem to be affected by it, and I walk to the back, not turning around to check on him, even though some odd part of me wants to take a look back at him.