Imola
Thursday
I wake up to two arms wrapped around my middle and a figure pressed into my back. We didn't shag or anything, but there was a silent agreement between the two of us that neither of us wanted to leave the other. So I stayed in his room.
But I don't remember falling asleep in this way.
I reach for my phone on the nightstand beside me and read the time. 10am. If I don't get up now I'm going to be late.
I try not to wake the sleeping boy beside me, carefully unwrapping his arms from around me and slipping out of the sheets.
"Where are you going?" His rough voice is muffled, and turning around I can see why. He's facedown in the sheets, right where I left him. I thought he slept through my moves but I guess not.
"I have to start getting ready, we both have media." The explanation earns a long sigh out of George, but no further comments from the boy. "I'll see you later." I gently say to the Brit, who mumbles incoherent objections in response, as I slip out the door to make my way to my own room.
I strip my body of all clothing and get into the shower. The droplets of the clear liquid on my skin flash me back to yesterdays events.
I'm my mind I see his eyes, his lips, the few tiny freckles upon his features that would go unnoticed if you weren't paying attention.
I run the water over my face in order to rinse the memories from the forefront of my mind. I'm not going to get through the day with those images running through my head.
Water slowly trickles down my arm and it reminds me of the way George ran his hand up my arm yesterday.
I run my own hand over my face. I feel like my brain is trying to torture me with these constant reminders.
I shut the water off and change into the clothes I prepared for the day ahead of me.
I don't dread media as much as I used to. The questions I've been getting lately have more to do with my racing rather than asking me about potential bachelors that also happen to be my colleagues.
Which is kind of funny now that I think about it. I swore up and down to Parker that I wouldn't fool around with a colleague and now here I am.
Gemma meets me when I get to the paddock, leading me once again to a conference room where Horner is already waiting.
The scene gives me a sense of deja vu. Reminding me of a similar room I walked into, which led to a fake rivalry.
Christian gestures for me to sit down in the chair across from his. Gemma sits next to me and it's just the three of us in this room for 20.
Gemma is the one to speak first. "You remember last week when you, max, and George were walking down the paddock together?" I nod kind of slowly, unsure of the direction this will take and her tone gives me no hint.
"Well the media loves seeing the three of you together. We want you to stop with the fake rivalry, and we want more of the three of you together." Gemma explains, using her hands as she does so.
Christian chimes in after that. "And nothing more between any of you. I see any foolishness and it's over." I was too focused on the fact George and I no longer had to sneak around to ask what he meant by 'over'.
It felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest, like I was suddenly 100 pounds lighter. Like I was drowning in the ocean, my lungs screaming for air and I finally broke surface, no more struggling was needed.
"Do Max and George also know?" My question is answered with a firm nod, given by Christian.
He gets up and gathers his things quickly. He turns to me before he leaves the room. "You're free to go now, by the way." He smiles, amused that I just sat there and watched him.
I leave behind the man.
"You hear the great news?" Max teases as I enter my driver room. "You and your boyfriend can chat in public now, how cute!" He coos the words out, as if he's talking about an adorable puppy.
I roll my eyes at his accusation. "George and I aren't dating." I shake my head while I dig my change of clothes out of a bag. "Now get out I need to change." I put a hand around his upper arm, directing him out of the room before I close the door on him.
I'll admit, it kind of annoys me that they switched up so fast. I mean just six races ago, they were telling me I could have nothing to do with George. But who am I to complain? I get to spend time with him outside the confines of hotel rooms.
-☆-
"Do you guys want to get dinner?" The question comes from George, asking me and Max. The latter groans out a response as I shrug. "Sounds good to me." George nods.
Another groan comes from Max. "I am not third wheeling." The Dutchman complains lowly, accentuating the 'not' in the sentence. "You wouldn't be third wheeling. We aren't even together." George confides in the boy, trying to convince him to come along or it may look like a date to any onlookers.
I hit the blonde lightly on his arm to gain his attention back. "You can invite one of you mates if you want." I shrug. Max sighs and gives in.
I throw an arm around the Dutchman after he complies. "George you pick the place. It was your idea after all." I point to the Mercedes driver before I lead both Max and I into our motorhome. We have a social media meeting to attend before we can leave.
Which for the record took ages. It was like time had turned against me. During the meeting I would glance at the clock every now and then, hoping a good chunk of time had passed and evidently every time, without fail, it had only been less than 5 minutes had passed.
Now finally back at my hotel room my phone pings from George
3 people
George
-guys wear something fancy
Max
-expensive place I guess
-you paying Georgie?
George
-no? Why would I pay?
Max
-you asked asked us to come? And you practically begged me to come
Ariella
That's what she said-
Charles
-HAHA
George
-we've all definitely got the money pay for yourselves.
I dig the short black dress out from the bottom of my suitcase. It's off the shoulder and hugs my every feature. I grab my black jacket to go along with it and my feet through a pair of heeled black boots before I make my way to the door, which was knocked on moments before.
When I open the door, the Brits eyes run up and down my body, pausing on certain areas. I cock my head to the side, slightly amused at the action.
"Hey." I bite back a laugh as I say the word. His gaze snaps back up to my eyes. "Sorry. I'm sorry. Uh, you ready to go?" His face is colored a slight tint of red, embarrassed by his action. I laugh as I push past him, closing the door behind me as I do so.
I step in the elevator and make room for him to do the same. He looks down at his shoes, avoiding any eye contact with me.
His eyes don't leave his shoes until we make it into his car. He looks at me for a long moment. "What?" I panic, thinking there may be something on my face.
I rip the sun visor down and flip the mirror up quickly. When I conclude my face is clean of anything unwanted, I turn back to his now smiling face. "What?!" I repeat the question with a nervous laugh.
That's when one of his hands goes to my chin, tilting it upwards as he brings his lips to meet mine.
This kiss seems urgent, unlike the one yesterday. One of my hands finds his cheek as the other stabilizes me on the center console.
His hand on my chin finds its way to rest on my exposed collarbone.
I break apart from the kiss first, sitting back against my seat and staring out the front windshield as he starts the car.
I laugh and turn to him. "Bold." It's the only word I say. He smirks as he keeps his eyes on the road. "If I had a middle name it would be Bold." The terrible joke makes both of us laugh.
"Please never make that joke again." I cringe internally at the sentence, before I remember something. "You have a middle name? It's William." The familiar feeling of confusion hits me.
His face also becomes confused. "How do you know that? I don't even know your middle name." I try and think for a moment of how exactly I do know that information but nothing comes to me.
"Fallon." I speak after a moment. He glances at me with the same confused face as before. "My middle name, it's Fallon." I clear up his confusion as he visibly tries to hold back a laugh.
"Oh, what is it now?" By my tone, anyone else would assume I'm pissed off, but he can tell I'm anything but.
"You've got a guys name for a middle name." He teases and I brush him off with a wave of my hand. "I don't wanna hear it. You have the most British name known to man and you're going to make fun of mine? No way. Also Fallon is a girls name." I may have grilled his name a little too hard, but when they go low I go lower.
He just laughs at my defensive comments, not replying with any insults of his own. Instead, he grabs my hand that's resting on the center console and interlocks it with his own.
(1717 words)
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A/N - Little black dress just walked into the room makin heads turn cant stop lookin at you it's so right it's so right it's so right you know.
Im so tired rn Idek if this chapter is any good