barely legal | max verstappen ✓

chapter 15 | let it happen

«Uh oh, I'm falling in love. Oh no, I'm falling in love again.»

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The line of the conversation had been lost a while ago, it seemed. She didn't know how they'd end up in there when all she wanted to do initially was to greet Esteban and that was it. Sloane never meant to get stuck in such a debate with Pierre of all people, but she would admit that at least he humoured her.

Especially with what he kept saying.

"What I'm saying here Sloane is that it shouldn't be about the team or height." Pierre continued. "It's about what's inside." He pointed at his heart.

She tilted her head, quirking one of her eyebrows. "Are you still trying to sleep with me? This is your argument?" He didn't even try to look apologetic, or ashamed for that matter. "My dating history, which includes people you know more than well, means nothing to you? Let's recapitulate who my ex and current boyfriend are, shall we?"

Pierre shrugged it off. "Like I told Aurora once, some friends love to share."

If he wanted to play that game, she could do it. "Alright, let me just tell Max and see what he thinks about it. You're French, you know what they say about the Eiffel Tower."

"Don't put that image in my head before a race, Sloane." He said as if she'd subjected him to the worst suffering. "It does sound tempting, and I love him, but do we have to invite Max?" He offered again with a shameless smirk included.

Her lips twisted into a grin, a delighted expression taking over her face. "Of course we have to invite Max, Pierre. Or are you worried you can't keep up with him off track too?" She folded her arms over her chest. "I mean, if we don't invite him then who is going to make me c—"

"You're such a demonic presence," He cut her off before she managed to end her full sentence, and it allowed her to laugh. She always knew he was all bark and no bite. Though her moment of satisfaction didn't last long because he smiled playfully again when something else came to mind. "Wait," Pierre pointed a finger at her. "You do know this...who is better? Max or Charles? We're all friends here, you can tell me."

"Why don't you try them and then we can discuss it?"

His face dropped. "As I said, you're a demon." And he huffed in mock annoyance.

"You started it, I just wanted to say hello to Esteban." Sloane defended herself.

Pierre, ever the charmer, kept it going. "You know you hold information some people would die for."

"Lucky me then." She gave him an innocent smile.

At least it seemed like he resigned to his fate. "Fine, you win. You don't want to share your secrets with me or hook up, but do me a solid, you have model friends, right? Introduce me to one of them, come on."

If she wanted to be mean, because she could and Pierre probably deserve it, she would send Salma his way and let her humble him. Be the bane of his existence. Nothing was more demeaning than spending some hours with beautiful Salma. But then Sloane thought they both were French and it could backfire on her. Annoying met annoying and the maths were there, somehow. On the other end, Irina already had a type and it was definitely not a Formula 1 driver. The girl was a groupie by heart.

Poor Pierre wouldn't win there.

"I wouldn't do that to my friends," Sloane bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from chuckling at his expression.

But obviously, he enjoyed the back-and-forth and wouldn't back down. "Do you even remember who gave Charles your full name that night at the club? Don't be so ungrateful."