A girl chasing her dream. A boy looking for the light.
When Florence Nyx started her internship at a Formula 1 paddock, she expected a lot. Fast cars. Exclusive impressions most people could only dream of. An entire array of skills she'd acquire...
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"Are you sure you're okay?" Florence asked as she turned off the electric engine, leaning back on the headrest of the now silent car. Her eyes glimmered with sympathy, and I couldn't help but lean over to press a kiss on her soft lips.
"I'm exhausted, but it's fine, really. We promised we'd be here."
Glancing out at the timbered house in front of us, I studied the orange tulips blooming in the front yard, a bobby car and plastic toy tractor discarded in the soil.
Part of me wondered if we were at the right address — I imagined this place to be a lot fancier, like one of those coffee-table book houses made of glass with fancy cars in the driveway. That's the league these people were playing in, right?
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you have to be here. I can go by myself if you don't feel like it. My apartment isn't far," Flo said with a smile, her fingers scratching my stubble.
"No, really, it's okay." To be fair, I was exhausted. The triple-header had robbed me of all my energy, with the races in Japan, Mexico, and Texas happening over three weeks. The entire team seemed ready for a break, or the season to end, really. "Let's just have fun today, okay?" I squeezed her hand, trying to convince myself more than her.
"I'll be damned. Phoenix McCoy wants to party, huh?" Flo laughed. "Well, let's go, then."
Within seconds, Florence was out of the car and by my passenger door, which she then opened with a broad smile. "May I help you out, Blueberry?"
Taking her outstretched hand, I got out of my seat and instantly pulled her into my arms. "Always." I pressed a kiss on her nose, letting my arm wrap around her shoulders. She leaned into my touch, her hands on my chest as she brushed her lips over mine. It was such a subtle move — the subtlest of all kisses out there, and yet it stole my breath away. Her gaze glimmered with emotion as she studied me, charging me up with her mere stare, and I didn't even realize how I pulled her closer and closer, until our lips met again.
Soon, my hands found their way into her hair, angling her so I could kiss her deeper and deeper and deeper. Her fingers dug into my hips, warning, no, urging me to stop. I couldn't, though. Not in a million lifetimes.
And so she had to be the one who pulled away. "We'd better go inside," she said breathlessly, clearing her throat as her glassy eyes met mine.
"Yeah, we'd better." I could feel the way she inhaled deeply, could see her glistening lips, and fuck me, did I want to do so much more to them right there and then.
"We do," she croaked out, her hands fisting my shirt. The way she looked at me was disarming — and she knew exactly what she was doing. She knew that if she didn't leave soon, we'd end up back in this car, which is where it'd all end. Or start.
"Flow!" The high-pitched voice made us jump, Florence's head whipping around to the front door of the house. A small girl, no older than six, I was guessing, came running out the door, brown pigtails bobbing up and down as she sprinted toward us. "Flow, you are here!"
