Going For The Gap

A Very Rare Occurrence

The entire next seven hours in the sky we chat as if nothing had happened between us. All car talk, and no addressing the fact that Charles undressed me with his eyes about a hundred times.

No, no. Can't discuss that. Or Daniel. Or the raven haired girl. Or the miscarriage.

If Charles is all too happy to sweep it under the rug, then so will I.

He'd called us casual, and it stung. But the truth hurts sometimes. We were. Nothing exclusive really, never promising anything more than our free hours off the track. It just didn't feel casual.

But feelings will lie to you.

And this time, I really won't allow myself to break. No showing up at his door.

No texts. No calls. No flirting.

Although flirting is not a something Charles bothers to refrain from, little womanizer him. 

So we do our best to keep it professional. To act as if each time his eyes touch me I don't feel hot to the touch. To act as if each graze of skin contact doesn't spark electricity. To act as if we could be anyone else in the world.

Carmen swears we aren't over, but I think she's wrong.

He doesn't want me. I'm no desperate woman. I won't beg. Not again.

For the first time this season, neither Ferrari podiums. 

With two DNFs, the mood in the garage was nothing short of foul.

Safe to say I was more than happy to get out of there. 

And to the bar we go! Like always. But not like always, I spy Carmen at the bar alone when I walk in. Thank fuck. I never get this lucky.

"Well well well, it's my lucky day!" I give her a squeeze from behind, and know something is wrong the second I look at her. Usually cheery, theres a frown stained into her in place of the normal smile. I can tell she's been crying and the mood shifts instantly. "But not yours. Want to talk about it?"

"No, I want to drink about it." Something I can indeed help with. Also unusual, George is nowhere in sight around her. Interesting. Paradise can't always be paradise though. Every beautiful place encounters it's storms, that's life.

"That I can do, Tequila?" Her nod gives me the go ahead and I order a few rounds of my favorite. By the looks of it, one or two isn't going to cut it. Three for sure.

We down them back to back, a very rare occurrence for her. "George?" I venture to ask her. Before she even answers I know the nail hit the head.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, the press leaked pictures of Charles and I fucking," Her eyes widen at the gossip, as I triumph  "And my papa is the one who bought them out. As in he saw them. Horrible."

She gasps loudly at the bomb "No. Fucking. Way."

"Yup," Some of the worst seconds of my life thankfully turning into something we can giggle over. "He asked us about it on the jet today. Charles said we were 'casual'" I air quote and roll my eyes at the words. Maybe to him, but not to me.

"Fucking hell Amelia," we wipe the tears from our eyes, laughing so hard we literally cried at the morning I had. Somehow just laughing about it makes it feel better. "You guys were not a casual fling. Well, if it makes you feel any better George asked me if I want to quit my job on the way here."

I can't help but grimace at the words. Anyone who knows her would know she'd hate that idea. Her job is personal to her because her family had struggled, and she never wanted to go through that. Honestly shocking he'd even ask. "Asked you if you want to or asked you to?" I clarify, because the difference is important.

She rolls her eyes. "Doesn't matter, just thought he knew me better than that."

"Who needs men? Let's get drunk." We get two more rounds of shots and shit talk in before the liquor hits straight on full force. Neither of us used to drinking so much so quickly.

"Dance?" She asks, eyes wide with excitement. I can't agree quick enough, and so the second we see George into the room we're out of there. To the dance floor!

We dance for what feels like forever. With each other, with strangers. It doesn't matter. 

Just letting the stress flow out of us. Swapping it for free drinks and giggles on the floor together. Fucking hell, we haven't done this in years at this point. It feels good. Loose. Free.

By the time we make it up the stairs back to our room, we're wobbly drunk. Clinging to each other just to make it up the stairs upright. I haven't laughed so hard with a girlfriend in years.

And we must have been down there long as hell because only Charles and George remain.

Oh shit.

She gulps.

"Just the people we were trying to avoid," I try to whisper, but the volume adjustment is hard with all the alcohol influence. We giggle at the volume and cling to each other still so we don't fall. This would usually be terrible. But drunk it's not so bad.

George looks sober. And somber. 

Charles looks sober. And sexy.

"Well well well..." George draws as they rise to walk over to us. "Can I take you home?" He is clearly asking Carmen, not I. He extends a hand, but she doesn't take it. 

Instead turning to frown at me, sad our night is ending. "What about Amelia?"

We smush our faces together frowning like kids begging their parents.

Charles looks amused. "I will take her." He offers, and Carmen finally moves to take George's hand leaving me no choice. I stumble from the lack of support, falling right into Charles.

Sigh. How could I not go home with someone so handsome?

"Can we get McDonalds?" I ask with a big grin. I would kill for some french fries right now.

He gives me a smile in return, telling me just the words I want to hear. "I'll take you anywhere you want Amelia."