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After being dumped, Isla Morris makes a pact with her ex's biggest competition, F1 driver Matthew Carr, to get inside Lucas's head.
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Isla Morris is dating the world's best F1 racer - at least, she w...
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Today, Matthew thought grimly, was going to be a disaster.
"Stay at the front," Alek was saying. "That way you'll avoid the spray." He rubbed his eyes. "And for god's sake, don't hit one another. Don't even touch one another. You'll spin right off the track."
Lucas bounced a tennis ball. "Don't look at me. Carr's the one who—"
"Enough, Walsh," Alek snapped. "I don't have the patience. Not today."
"But—"
"Enough."
Matthew tipped his head back, mostly to hide his smile. Rain lashed his face. The Silverstone crowd was a sunless sea of black ponchos and umbrellas, looking rather uncomfortably like mourners at a funeral. Most of the drivers were trickling toward their cars, and Matthew spotted Cedro in his Alpine helmet, his posture stiff and alert.
Matthew didn't blame him.
There was rain, and then there was this. Even Noah's Ark couldn't have survived this shit. He'd be lucky if he made it out alive today.
Matthew held out a hand. "It's picking up."
Alek's frown deepened. "I'm amazed they haven't called it off."
"I'm not," Lucas muttered, "All the race officials are idiots."
Matthew bobbed on his toes, squinting through the gloom. Screw it. He could blindfold himself and see equally well. Eyes open, eyes closed — it was all the same at this point. The visibility was terrible.
Someone signaled to them. Alek sighed.
"Alright, lads," he said. "Get to the cars. You know what to do."
"Play dodgems?" Matthew asked innocently.
Alek's eyes narrowed further. "No funny business today, Carr. I mean it."
Matthew winked. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Lucas continued to bounce the tennis ball as they made their way to their cars — P1 and P2, respectively — and Matthew resisted the urge to snatch it from him. He was behaving today. Behaving. He sighed, turning for his car.
"Wait." Lucas seized his shoulder. "Is she here today?"
Matthew shrugged him off. "Who? The Queen?"
"Hilarious," Lucas said flatly.
Irritation prickled his skin. "No, you know what's hilarious, Walsh? Watching you pant after my girlfriend. First the yacht party, then the afternoon tea, and now today..." Matthew took a step forward, lowering his voice. "But here's the thing: I'm getting sick of your shit. Try to kiss Isla again, and I'll knock your teeth out."
"You're a rebound," Lucas said coolly. "You know that, right?"
Matthew patted his shoulder. "Dental work is expensive. Remember that."
