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♫ Now this might be a mistake
That I'm calling you this late
But these dreams I have of you ain't real enough♫

Max Verstappen POV

She is not with George, that's what she told me and I am actually pleased. I left the bathroom in my underwear and I was glad she was sleeping, I would wake up before she did and I would put on a shirt and pants, or so I thought. I sat down on the couch and there she was, sitting on the bed with guilt all over her face.

"I am so sorry for calling you!" She says once she sees my movements and I shake my head.

"Thank god you did, you don't know what creep might've appeared," I say as I stretch so I can get up, once I do I see her fixed eyes on me and I when I look down I realize I was only wearing the sleeping shorts.

"I should get going, can I give you the shirt later?" She asked as she hurriedly left her bed.

"No problem," I say as I try to find a shirt to cover myself in, but I end up seeing her whole bottom when she inclines to put the high heels back on her feet.

Why didn't she sit down and why is she wearing see-through underwear? Did she mean to find a guy last night? If I didn't pick up, would it be George the next in line?

"I'm sorry for everything Max, I will never do this again. It was highly inappropriate," she says as she finally got it and I stand in front of her.

"Inappropriate? I've done inappropriate things with you, going to pick you up drunk when you call me is the furthest use for that word," I say as we stand inches apart, she looks up surprised and I grin.

"I- I should leave, this should not be happening," the words left her lips but not a single muscle in her body moved.

"Then go, no one is stopping you. You seem to do it easily, do you want me to go back to sleep?" I throw the words with anger and she nods.

"This is why I should leave," she says and I nod without moving.

"You can go around. But I think the sexual tension is too strong for you to leave. Do you miss me? He doesn't fuck better than me? If he fucks as well as he drives then I feel sorry for you baby, I really do," I say as I lean down to kiss her cheek and I notice how she holds her breath.

My girl is here, in front of me. Right now, she is mine again. Except, she isn't. She left. She left me. And I would still kneel down for her. I would marry her if an ounce of regret was shown and a good enough reason was given for her to disappear with my heart like that.

"Max," she moans once my hand touches her ass, grabbing it gently, and I doubt George has touched her, if he has then he didn't do it right because I saw how red her cheeks got when my name left her mouth, her mouth betrayed her but my name tasted as well as ever. Tempting.

"Do you want me?" I whisper in her ear before trailing kisses throughout her jaw and neck. Little moans escaped her lips and it was driving me crazy.

I would risk my own sanity once again to make her mine again. But would I be able to recover?

"I- This can't happen, Max," she said when I went to kiss her lips. One hand held her throat as she looked up at me, her cheeks as red as ever. The other hand was now on her waist, it was smaller.

"Don't you want me baby? Say no and I will stop," I say as I brush my lips against hers, I need her to kiss me. If she did, then that was my go-ahead.

"No," the word was enough to knock me to my senses. My hands dropped to my sides and I took a step to the side, she left quickly and I punched the couch until I was too tired to keep going.

What the fuck did I think was going to happen? She was the one who left. She doesn't love me. She doesn't care about me. Why the fuck does she have this power over me?

I can never get this close to her, this could be the end of me. My dad was right, she meant problems if I let myself fall into her trap. She was sane enough to stop us from committing this mistake.

I spent the next few days focused on training and work, I needed to not think about her and it worked, mostly. I arrived in Canada and I found Charles after the press conference on Thursday.

"Why the fuck did you tell her?" I asked after the other driver had a bit more distance from us.

"I am sorry, I thought she knew. I was just talking to her normally. You know I wouldn't do it on purpose. How did you know I told her?" He seemed to connect the dots and I just shook my head in disappointment.

"She got drunk and called me, she was really drunk. What if she hadn't called me? What if-" I stop myself before I finish the phrase but Charles chuckles.

"What if she called George? I am glad she called you. Does that mean you two talked? Did something happen?" His curiosity was peaking but I just shook my head.

"Nothing significant happened," I say as I start to leave him and he follows me.

"What do you mean significant?" His insistence is annoying me so I ignore him until he stops in front of me.

"I almost kissed her, she had my shirt on and all that. I almost folded and I am not proud of it but it won't happen again," I admit and his jaw drops.

"I mean, I believe it won't happen again. George was trying to hide a hickey during the press conference and I don't think it will be from another woman if he really wants Sky as bad as it seems he does," Charles tells me and I just freeze. A hickey?

"Good for her, so fucking good," I say as I walk faster to my garage. George was talking to Toto at the entrance and I stopped to greet him.

"Hey man," he says excitedly as he smiles, the hickey was obviously there. He isn't trying to hide it now. He is just flaunting it on my face.

"Is Skylar better from the other night?" I ask and he seems confused.

"What?" He asks nervously and I feel so satisfied but I just shrug.

"She got drunk, called me, I went to get her and all that. It was in Monaco, on the night of the race. Had to sleep in my bed and all, she was a bit depressed. I hope she is better, I don't know why she didn't call you," Playing dumb is my move here.

Toto smirked as he entered his garage and George just nodded.

"I mean, she has been very much not depressed from what I can tell you. Thank you for helping her, I owe you one Max," he says before entering the garage and I am the one left fuming. Fucking dickhead, pretending not to be affected. Fuck my life.

Broken ✞  Max Verstappen x George RussellWhere stories live. Discover now