Fake It - OP

Chapter 20

I still haven't gotten used to driving with Oscar, the car itself is amazing but it's hard not to watch him drive and how he handled the car through the slow turns. The street to the restaurant is narrow and winding almost like I imagine European streets might be. I watch his fingers pull the shifters behind the steering wheel and notice the way he sits back in the seat. More upright than his Formula One car by a longshot, but lower than I would ever dare. 

It isn't either of our music playing through the speakers so the volume is low. I have my window cracked and the warm desert air is fanning my cheek. The sun set a few minutes ago and light was fading fast on the landscape outside. Shadows coat the passing streets while the rooftops look like lit-up candlesticks in the fading orange light.

"Are you nervous?" I ask Oscar for no particular reason. I expect him to just say he was fine but he instead dragged his hand through his hair. A nervous twitch I've noticed he has.

"Yeah, I think I would be insane not to be, this dinner could make or break my career."

It was true, but us both being nervous wasn't going to help the situation. "Did you tell Zak I was coming?"

"Yeah, he knows." He said. He sounds nervous but his driving and body language doesn't change, it's like the fact he was driving was what was keeping him calm.

"All right," I said. "We aren't jumpscaring him then that's a bonus." Oscar doesn't say anything and I pause for a second. "Did you notice any difference with the car today? I know there are some upgrades this weekend."

The tenseness in Oscar's voice dissipates when he speaks next. "A little bit, not much in terms of pace, but I felt a bit more comfortable opening DRS, like the front end, was a bit more stable when there was less drag. It helped with my confidence going into turn three and four."

"That's good, so how do you think qualifying will go?"

It's about a twenty-minute drive to the restaurant and with my questions about his racing by the time we reach the small parking lot, Oscar is a lot more calm. I suppose taking his mind off dinner in a way gave him a distraction so apprehension didn't keep building up. In hindsight, it was probably genius on my part. I have not the slightest idea how talking about racing was the topic that made him relax, but I wasn't going to complain. 

It's dark outside now with the sun set over the horizon but I can see out my window there are plenty of streetlights and lamps that light our path to the restaurant. Just like Oscar had early earlier in the paddock, I stopped him before we got out of the car by lightly touching his shoulder across the centre console in the car. 

"Oscar," he halts his movements and turns to look at me, waiting for me to speak. "We've got this, just talk about your racing. I'm sure with qualifying tomorrow that's all anyone will want to talk about." He looks a bit unsure and drops my gaze.

"I love what I do," he whispers. "I can't lose racing Blake."

The defeat in his voice only makes me feel more pressure going into this night. But it's normal for a girlfriend to be nervous about going to her boyfriend's work dinner right? It's a bit different if Oscar is nervous. "You won't," I say trying to sound sure of myself. "You remember our first date, and the day we started dating. That's more than any boyfriend in real life would even know."

Oscar chuckles, the sound breathy like relief. "Have you seriously dated someone that forgot your first date?" I blush and Oscar's face breaks out in a smile. "Oh my god, Blake you need better taste."

We both laugh at my expense and I can visibly see Oscar's shoulders relax. I have dated people in the past, none of them stand out guys but it was long enough ago I could laugh about it too. Tentatively, I grab Oscar's hand across the centre console and he threads his fingers through mine. I squeeze his hand twice, and he squeezes mine back twice in return. Our little secret code makes something in my chest flutter in a way it shouldn't.