Off the Track Series Book 2
Elsa has been alone nearly all her life. Thrown into a career she didn't choose out of sheer need. But now, for the first time in nearly a decade life has given her the chance to take up her dreams and join the Ferrari te...
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My mind is still fully scrambled by the time we fly to Bahrain. Work has become an all too welcome distraction, but not distraction enough. I've had to take up fucking running again to clear my head.
Running.
A workout? So not me.
More like running from my problems.
At the very least, trying to.
How come after two nights with Pierre it only took one graze of Daniels skin to absolutely fuck me up.
What is wrong with me?
"What is it?" Amelia asks the question on both of our minds, coming over from her seat with Charles.
If she can feel my moody girl vibes too, it's gotta be bad.
"I'm fucked up. I can stop thinking about him."
Although which him, doesn't cross my lips.
"Tell me more." Amelia grins wide, falling back into her seat. After all, what girls doesn't love a good tea session?
"Pierre took me to dinner. Probably the nicest dinner of my life." I confess, not sure yet I want to fess up to the worst of it.
"And the sex?" She presses, curious just as I would be.
"It was good."
Her blonde eyebrow cocks at this, not pleased with the answer. "Good? Good doesn't sound like I can't stop fucking thinking about him sex."
She hits the nail on the head.
"It's not him." I admit, closing my eyes and pressing my head on the cool glass window.
I'm so scrambled I can barely speak of it.
"Daniel?" She asks, assuming from last year.
A deep groan is all I can manage. With Charles here, I really do not want to get into the nitty gritty of what happened between us.
"I get it." And, she does.
Charles groans loudly, making it know he doesn't like this turn of topic. We can't help but giggle like silly schoolgirls at his reaction.
"I can't stop thinking about the sex." I lay it all out on the table. "His hand fucking grazed me and my mind is fully scrambled ever since."
"So that's your type of sex" She emphasizes the that a little to much for both Charles and I's liking now.
He groans, I blush.
I mean, what can I say?
A woman has needs. "I can't fucking stand him. But the sex..."
Because after all this time. After the heart ache and mistakes. I still want him. Even when I know I shouldn't.
"Just fuck him then. Get it out of your system." She offers me the advice I want to hear, but shouldn't take.
Right?
"But, Pierre. He's so sweet."
"Good guy." Charles chimes in, thrilled we've moved on past the sex talk.
But Amelia's face says the contrary.
Interesting.
"Nothing is serious yet, I'd tell you to explore both."
Charles groans again, not happy.
"Yes?" I ask, wanting more than a noise of displeasure.
"If you do that, you risk pissing both of them off." He offers a surprisingly good males point of view.
But not if they don't know.
"Worked for me." Amelia smirks at Charles, then me. And it sure as hell did.
So who am I to question her logic?
Yet, somehow I am all the way through pretesting week.
Teetering on the fence.
Whose to say Daniel would even want to even if I decided I do?
A good dress will have to seal the deal.
Luckily, I brought just the one.
I manage to avoid Daniel, but not in my mind.
Pierre is less easy to avoid, popping up to check on me one afternoon with a coffee. I don't even drink black coffee, but still it was kind. Amelia rolled her eyes. She's clearly on team Daniel, but still nothing has quite swayed me.
If I'm brutally honest with myself, I know I want him.
I'm just scared to go there again.
It hurt so much last time. Too much.
But maybe just this once, I'll give it a go. It's really just the physical chemistry stuck in my head.
Right?
Outside of my wandering mind, it's been a hell of a weekend. For a shock, it looks like it'll be a Ferrari and Mercedes competition this year. Unless Redbull is sandbagging. But judging by Max's outbursts alone, I don't think that's the case.
Amelia is so happy she's practically skipping on our way out of the paddock.
And me? I'm happy too honestly. This is a whole new side of things for me and I have a million questions. It's fascinating just how much Ferrari puts into racing.
We're almost home free, when we run smack into the aussie I've been avoiding.
He's clearly just showered, hair mused and damp and looking far too sexy for my liking. When he waves and looks me dead in the eye, I swear my heart skips a beat.
Yup, I'm totally fucked.
"Great car you have this year." He compliments the both of us, but we know he's jealous.
That's just how the cookie crumbles sometimes.
"Thank you," Amelia doesn't comment on the sore spot of his car, instead asking "You coming out tonight?"
I'm hanging on every word he says. If he's there, so am I. Need to get this out my system. Him out of my system.
Bad.
"Wouldn't miss it." He grins wide, eyes on me. But I don't say a word. I may want to fuck him, but I still don't like him.
