Page 26 of Not So Fast
For a moment, he forgot that he was a race-car driver and she was a podcaster who’d criticized him in dozens of different ways. Again, he wanted to kiss her. Part of that was curiosity. He had a feeling a kiss from Mia wouldn’t be like a kiss from anyone else. But he couldn’t afford to be curious right now. It wouldn’t help him get where he so desperately wanted to be. He needed to stay on the straight and narrow.
“Come on. Let’s get back.”
Six
What do you think is holding you back?
My brain, probably, which should come as no big surprise. I am so conflicted today. Xander and I had such a nice time last night, and now I just want more. Be his friend. Get to know him. Figure out what makes him tick. That is such delusional thinking. In twenty-four hours, I’ll be on a plane back home and he’ll probably forget that I ever existed.
Mia used her walk to the circuit to record snippets for her podcast. “This really is such an amazing location for a race, and qualifying held so many surprises. I hope today will live up to the excitement of yesterday.” Mia knew her first loyalty was to her podcast, which meant her attention needed to be on all the drivers, but it was impossible not to root for Xander today, especially since he’d had such a strong showing in qualifying and would be starting in the top ten at P7.
Despite her focus on the race, she was haunted by thoughts of last night in the park. Touching him had not been part of her plan—she’d innocently thought she might help him alleviate his stress. But the reality was that once she started kneading his shoulders, feeling every unbelievable muscle at the base of his neck, it had been incredibly difficult to stop.
She’d used her immense talent for overthinking to help her stem the tide of whatever it was going on inside her body, or more specifically between her legs. She reminded herself over and over again—last night and again this morning—that nothing good came of getting attached to Xander Bishop.
Even a fantasy of him was a foolish experiment—he was the sort of man who dated actresses and models. Who had women falling at his feet—women with flawless bodies and faces, who came from money and influence. In other words, not women like Mia.
And she didn’t mull over these thoughts to diminish her value as a person. She’d been lucky enough to almost always feel comfortable in her own skin, even when her mind was a complicated place. Most of the time, she felt pretty, and she knew the things that made her feel sexy. Being around Xander made her feel sexy.
Was it the thrill of verbal back-and-forth with someone who regularly frustrated her? Or was it because she sensed he wanted to show her more of who he was, even though his words said the opposite? It was probably all those things and more, but that didn’t change the fact that on the surface, she and Xander did not exist in the same world.
* * *
Despite his intention to keep solely focused on the race, Xander couldnotstop thinking about last night in the parkwith Mia. He popped down his visor and started the formation lap, zigzagging to get temperature into his tires and taking note of the feel of the track.Focus.Unfortunately, his brain kept drifting to Mia and the things she’d said. Although he sensed she was coming from a place of good intention, he didn’t buy into the notion of not looking back. Last year had been perfect. So had the year before. And since he was in a much better car this year, logic said that all he had to do was conjure his former self and drive like the Xander of last year. That would bring the desired results.
He really wanted to prove that to Mia. Doing well in the race was the only way to accomplish that. And if he didn’t do well? It would mean yet another step back. More misery. More pressure.
* * *
Mia thought she might be sick when Xander pulled into his seventh-place spot on the grid.Please do well.He had to do well. He’d kicked ass in qualifying and he’d always said Monza was one of his favorite circuits. High speed and fast corners. It was a beautiful day.
Just go racing, Xander. Just go racing.
The first light ticked on, then the second, the third, the fourth and the fifth. Mia’s pulse pounded in her ears. That moment of anticipation was killing her.
* * *
The lights went out. Xander punched the throttle. Charles protested.
In front of him, car five lunged to the left. And in that split second, a procession of thoughts hit him—becoming one with his car. Positivity. Looking ahead.
These were not his usual thoughts. But he didn’t have time to push them aside.
Miraculously, car six went right to take the inside line of the first corner. Xander spotted his opening in the gap and took it. By the end of turn two and the straight, he’d moved up two positions. He was flying. This lightness inside his chest was familiar. And so fucking welcome. He nearly laughed.
It was time to settle in. Complete this first lap. Focus on sector times. Tire management.
Come on, Charles.
It was time to catch Dirk and the rest of the field.
* * *
The better Xander did, the more nervous Mia became.
Her stomach wobbled and churned. Her hands were sweaty and slippery as she gripped the railing on the club balcony above the paddock, where she’d nabbed her primo viewing spot.
Just like in Miami, she could not only watch the on-track action up close, she could also turn around and peer inside to see one of the TV monitors. Xander’s race start had been excellent, and since then, he’d been doing great, but there had been a few rocky moments, including an excruciatingly long pit stop of 4.2 seconds.
