Page 94 of Drive Me Wild
My thoughts swirl around my head so quickly that it makes it hard to see straight. “I need to talk to him.”
I don’t know when or how that’s going to happen, considering he’s dodging my calls like one of the bad guys in his video games. And not only is it the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix this weekend, it’s also Gemini’s soft opening.
“Are you finally done being single?” Ella asks with a chuckle.
I shoot her a cheeky wink. “I’ve always sucked at it, anyway.”
I’ve had enough time on my own. I can be alone, I know that. And I don’tneedTheo, but I sure as hellwanthim. I want his loud laugh when I send him funny TikTok videos or burst into song. I want his weird two a.m. comments about how it’s odd that peeing in a urinal isn’t considered public indecency. I want to tell him about my day while I watch him kill dragons or build some sort of virtual fort.
He’s the Monsieur to my Mademoiselle. Good on their own, but even better together.
THIRTY-SIX
THEO
Another textfrom Martin comes in, but I don’t bother reading it. Just like I’ve ignored the other seventy-five texts I’ve received today. I don’t need to justify or explain my decision to anyone. It’s my life. And right now, this is exactly where I want to be.
I’ve heard Josie talk about Gemini enough that walking in shouldn’t be as awe-inducing as it is. The entry is a record shop, minus a cashier and cash register. My eyes zip and zoom around, not knowing where to focus. CDs from the 2000s and first-generation iPods sit in a display case, artist and band posters are tacked to the walls, and shiny instruments sparkle under the lighting.
The floorboards covered by a Persian rug creak under my weight as I explore the space. I briefly sift through a bin of vinyl records and laugh because only Josie would position The Beatles and Megan the Stallion next to one another.
Taking a deep breath, I head toward therealentrance of Gemini. Goosebumps ripple down my arms. I haven’t seen Josie in five weeks. Five weeks without her smile that feels like a hug. Five weeks without her hair fanning across my chest as shecuddles me in her sleep. Five weeks without her lips on mine. Five weeks without my best friend. My person. My heart.
I push through the door with an alarming amount of force and briefly worry that it’s about to fall off the hinges. Stepping forward, I’m greeted by Kelsey standing behind the bar holding a knife. In his defense, he’s cutting lemons and limes, so it makes sense, but still, the sight is frightening.
Kelsey lifts his head. “Theo? What’re you doing here?”
“I’m just, uh—” I crack my knuckles, and take it all in. “Wow. The place looks amazing.”
He wipes his hands on the apron tied around his waist before waving me over. I keep my eyes focused on the knife that’s still within his arm’s reach as I head over to the bar.
“All Josie,” he comments. “Assuming you’re here looking for her?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s in the back, but should be out in a minute or two.”
“I just want to wish her luck tonight,” I explain awkwardly. “Let her know how proud I am of her.”
Kelsey slides a glass of water across the bar. “She watched all your races religiously, you know. We both did. She even had me rooting for you instead of Lucas for some of the races, but don’t tell him that.”
Rubbing my neck, I shrug. “Well, Jos is a McAllister fan through and through.”
“She’s ayoufan, mate,” he corrects me. “Don’t think she knows McAllister even has another driver.”
There’s no use trying to fight my smile. “I’m a Josie fan, too.”
“I hope the two of you work things out soon, because I don’t know if I can listen to one more of her Taylor Swift playlists.”
“Hate to break it to you, mate, but they all have Swift on ‘em.”
He groans and takes a sip of his drink. “I should’ve guessed. The?—”
A voice I’d recognize in a chorus of thousands interrupts whatever Kelsey is about to say. I whip my head around and the breath gets sucked right out of my chest. Josie stands there in a svelte green knit dress, looking positively radiant. She’s a rare flower—so breathtakingly stunning that it’s an honor to even look at such beauty, both inside and out.
“What are you doing here?” Josie rushes over to me and jabs her finger into my chest. “Are you aware there’s a Grand Prix tomorrow?”
As if on cue, my phone buzzes in my pocket. Probably another text from Martin. Or Blake. Or Russell. Or one of the million people who have been blowing up my phone all day, asking where I am. All I told my team was that something came up and McAllister needs to call up a reserve driver. Blake’s probably torturing the poor bloke right now.
