Page 2 of Over the Limit

“Exactly. Your team is waiting.” He lifts his eyebrows. Great. Judge me. I meet him stare for stare. Come on, Dad. “Just like they’ve been waiting while you chose to flirt, among other things, with Olivia, who’s no doubt hiding until I leave. I’m sure she’s charming and has many favorable attributes but making them wait while you mess around isn’t acceptable.”

“Can this conversation be over now?” I ask.

He holds a finger up. “Every one of those people in yellow uniforms by your car are here for you. Sure, they’re earning an income, but it’s a choice they make. A choice to help further your career while choosing to miss time with their families, to overlook things they need to do for themselves, and all to help you realize and chase your dream of making it to the top. Kyle just had a son and he’s here with you—for you—instead of with his newborn. You, Lachlan, will always come first in your racing career, but all those men and women over there, come a close damn second and you need to never forget that.”

“I hear you, Dad.”

“Your teammate, your crew members, your staff—they are just as important as you. They are your team, and they deserve just as much respect because your talent is nothing without them helping you utilize it.”

And the guilt trip is working. I swallow over the lump in my throat. “I know.”

“There will be many Olivias in your lifetime, mate, many women to get lost in, but there will only be one Formula 1. And the day you wonder which one comes first, is the day you should probably consider hanging it all up.”

I disagree with him. I’ve seen drivers have wives, have girlfriends, and it doesn’t fuck up their game. But I don’t argue. I’m in no damn place to do anything other than say, “Yes,” because he’s right about everything else.

He reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. “Hard work and dedication aren’t always fun, but I know the time and work you’ve put in and how badly you want this. Your mum and I will do everything in our power to support you in this as we always have, but you also have to be the man that people want to support.”

“I do want it. I am that guy,” I say as guilt eats at the edges of my resolve. As inconspicuously as I can, I zip up my fly.

“You sure?” He looks at me with an earnestness like never before. He looks at me man-to-man and it makes something constrict in my chest. This is what I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember.

“I am.” Formula 1 is the ultimate goal.

“Okay.” Another squeeze to my shoulder before he pats me on the back. “What have I always said to you?”

I repeat the words I’ve heard from day one in this hamster wheel. Words I know I’m lucky enough to hear and that are rare in this world of pushy fathers who try to live vicariously through their own sons’ successes. “That this is supposed to be fun. That the minute it’s not, it’s okay to decide to try something else and walk away if I want. That this sport doesn’t define who I am. I do.”

He nods, a proud smile ghosting his lips. “And I mean that. I always have and I always will.”

“I know you do.”

But while I can parrot his words, this sport does define me. It has since the first time I got behind the wheel of a kart. Since that first rush of adrenaline as I crossed a finish line and saw that checkered flag. Since that first time I stood at the Australian Grand Prix and felt the rumble in my chest and heard the distinct whine of a Formula 1 engine.

There has never been another option for me.

A driver is who I am.

Making the elite twenty-driver squad in Formula 1 is my goal.

Lachlan Evans. World Champion.

Like always, my dad is right. This has to be my complete focus.

I want to win.

I. Will. Win.

I’ll accept no other option.

CHAPTER ONE

Blair

The music beats a vicious tempo and a chest-vibrating bass. People are everywhere. The doorways. Standing on their tiptoes lining the walls. Twisting their lips as they wait impatiently, trying to move toward the bar area in a surge that seems to happen every ten minutes or so.

They’re all hoping what this party advertised to be true—that it’s the hangout spot for Formula 1 drivers when the race comes to town. A little promotion before race week swings into full gear. If you were lucky enough to score a ticket, you might just get to rub elbows and perhaps take some pictures for your social media to prove you were “hanging” with them.

And after several hours of sitting here, it’s definitely living up to expectations.