Red Hot! (Sebastian Vettel)

7. The Bug

A/N: So the season is starting now, but I'm not following real life results as I'm writing quicker than they're racing so all results will be fictional.   I'll post a chapter containing all results at the end instead of individual results. The race calendar will follow the real calendar.

Libby watched from the corner of hospitality as Seb stomped in through the door, followed by Antti and Britta. He looked fuming and she couldn't blame him.   He'd been fighting for a respectable fifth place when Esteban Ocon had tried an overly ambitious overtake on him and sent him spinning.  He'd been able to recover and continue the race but his chance of scoring points had been destroyed.   He'd limped home in twelfth.  Then to make matters worse Lance had retired with a loss of power nine laps from the end, while he'd been running in the points.  It hadn't been a very good start to the season for Aston Martin. 

The German didn't even look at anyone as he stormed up the stairs to his driver room, leaving Antti and Britta downstairs. 

Mike walked through the door and signalled to Libby that he needed her in the office.   She followed him down the corridor. 

"Shut the door Libby," he said, sounding very stressed.   She did as he asked.  She had a job to do but her mind was on Seb.  She hoped he was ok.  

She opened the app on her iPhone ready to record what Mike had to say so she could type it up and send to Lawrence, who had been unable to attend this weekend due to illness.  

She didn't pity Mike.  Lawrence wasn't going to be happy.  Then she wondered if she'd hear from Seb like he'd said the day before.  She figured he probably wouldn't be in the mood for a night out. 

Truth be told, by the time she got out of here all she'd want to do was sleep.  "Libby!" Mike snapped. "Focus!"

"Sorry Mr Krack," she said.  Concentrate Libby, she told herself.   Do what you're here to do.   Thoughts of Seb could wait. 

                                        ***

Seb was still fuming when he arrived back in his hotel room.  Esteban had been very apologetic over what had happened but it still stung.  He'd worked so hard to climb from tenth on the grid to fifth and then it had been snatched away from him in one moment of madness from the Frenchman.

He kicked his trainers off and flopped down onto the bed. He stared up at the ceiling. Then suddenly he remembered something.

"Fuck!" he said, sitting bolt upright. He'd forgotten to text Libby about dinner. He grabbed his phone and looked at the time. It was late. Too late? Only one way to find out. 

Seb:  Hey Libs. Sorry it's late.  Had a nightmare of a day, as you probably noticed.  Still on for dinner? X

He sat waiting for her reply. Several minutes passed before his phone vibrated in his hand.  He opened the message. 

Libby: Sorry. I thought you'd forgotten. I'm out with Joel.  You should have texted earlier. You snooze, you lose xx

"For fuck's sake," he cursed. "Joel? Really?" He'd been a little late messaging her and she'd gone off with that womaniser? He was mad. He was very mad.

Well, she'd lost her chance now! If that's what she was going to be like then Joel was welcome to her.

Deep down he knew he didn't mean it. His body still craved hers. It was as if the feel of her lips were imprinted on his. He could not get her out of his mind.

What if Joel ended up fucking her? He furiously tapped out another text.

Seb: remember who you belong to Libby Valentine