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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One more race. That was all we needed to finish this season.
Phoenix hadn't won the past two weekends, which meant the World Championship title would be decided in the season finale. Connor still had a chance to grab the trophy, though he'd need to win the next race to do that, and Phoenix would need to finish 7th or below. Rafael didn't have a chance, unfortunately.
Either way, the team was working to bring Phoenix the win, since that's what these race drivers were all about. None of them wanted to finish second or third. They all wanted to stand on top of that podium, spraying champagne and living their best life.
"Where can I put the pasta machine?" Phoenix held up the complex-looking machinery, turning to face me. "I don't want to take any space from you."
A smile played on my lips. "This is your space, too, Phoenix. Your kitchen, your cabinets. Just put it where it fits," I retorted, stepping over to him. I took a second to take in the sight; Phoenix looked dangerously handsome when he was shirtless, only wearing a pair of used jeans and some old sneakers. It was damn hard to tear my eyes away from him and his chiseled body.
I watched how he stretched himself to reach the top shelf, securing the pasta-machine at the very back of it. The muscles on his back flexed with every move he made, his bicep straining until he'd disposed of the appliance.
"Stop doing that," he said in a warning tone, but as I looked up at him, he greeted me with a mischievous smirk.
"Stop doing what?" Leaning against the kitchen counter, I waited until Phoenix was right in front of me before I allowed myself to breathe again, his citrus scent instantly invading my senses.
"You know what, Nyx." His voice was low and husky, the strain of the past months audible in his chords. "We won't be able to finish anything here if you don't stop looking at me like that."
The mere proximity of his body made me swallow hard, his lips inches away and his stare as potent as the storm he was causing inside me. My body tingled from anticipation, my fingers itching to feel his skin beneath my fingertips, and yet I stood still.
"I know someone's going to finish if you continue to walk around half naked in our apartment," I quipped, feigning confidence.
The laugh rumbling through him warmed my heart, even more so when he hoisted me onto the counter and stepped between my legs, now having to look up at me. "Our apartment, huh?"
"Of course. It was ours the second you stepped foot inside the first time." I couldn't help but smile at the memory weeks ago — so much chaos had infiltrated our lives back then, and I couldn't deny I was glad as shit that it was all over. That we'd finally found our peace, too.
Phoenix leaned up, his hands framing my face as he pressed a kiss on my lips. It was swift and precise, too fleeting to be remembered, and yet I already knew this kiss was burned into my memories. Every second I spent with his man was memorable, so exhilaratingly calm and soothingly stormy.
