Without A Little Risk

Just Maybe

I'm up at the crack of dawn on race day. Far too busy with work, finally starting to feel like I understand what I'm doing. Finding my footing brings such a sense of relief and grounding. Grounding I've desperately been in need of.

I'm walking into the paddock with Amelia when I see him. Just shooting the shit with her but I nearly stop in my tracks at the sight of him.

Daniel, chatting away with some haas team guys. He's never met a stranger in his life, and I really like that about him. The smile on his face tattooed there like always. He doesn't see me, but I can't miss him.

Can't miss my heart racing at just his presence.

I haven't seen him since Bahrain. Since I left him sleeping. I wonder if that bothered him...

Something about the way the girls had taken the news at brunch made me feel stronger. Like maybe one day I could tell him. Maybe it would all be alright if I did.

Just maybe.

"Elsa!" I hear a french voice call out to me. A frenchman who can only be one person: Pierre.

Amelia releases my arm with a squeeze, letting me turn to see Pierre as she keeps moving towards the Ferrari garage.

Just looking at him brings a grin to my face, I haven't seen him since the coffee in Bahrain. We never exchanged numbers either so I have no idea what he's been up to. But he's got flowers in hand and a small smirk on his face under his sunglasses. He's the kind of man who looks good and he knows it. I can appreciate that.

"Hello stranger!" I pull him into a hug of greeting.

"You look amazing," He compliments me with a squeeze before we break apart. "These are for you."

Handing me the array of purple flowers wrapped in paper.

I'm breathless. "Oh Pierre, thank you. I've never gotten flowers before."

Because I haven't.

Never had anything serious, nobody to think of giving them to me. Only ever the ones I bought myself.

He's so thoughtful, I'm fucking floored.

"You deserve flowers all the time," Pierre is always on it with the one liners. His smirk transitioning to a full out smile. "And I wouldn't want my competition to get a leg up on me."

Competition.

As in Daniel.

Does he know?

I guess this is a small world.

I giggle, telling the truth "You're in a league of your own, no competition."

His facial expression says he's pleased at the affirmation. "Good, will you come out with me tonight then?"

Out to party. Amelia had already invited me, but I don't want to ruin his lovely gesture. "I'd love to."

"Give me your number and I'll pick you up." He extends his phone and I follow his request.

Pierre makes me feel special.

Seen.

Not something for keeping under wraps in the wee hours of the morning.

By the time we part, my cheeks hurt from smiling. Flowers in hand and I can't wait to go out with him tonight. With somebody who respects me at the very least.

Daniel is still there, no longer chatting with the haas guys. Instead, mouth in a straight line and staring at me. Not pleased.

Whatever.

He doesn't own me.

I should walk way, but my feet draw me towards him. Unable to resist. Like my legs have a mind of their own.

A mind that is drawn to him.

"Good luck today." I start with something sweet and a smile. Hoping to break the ice at least.

But I can tell he's pissed before he even speaks, it's written in his eyes.

"You know he got those flowers from a fan, right?" Daniel can't help but ruin the moment for me. Refusing to acknowledge my good will.

Lovely.

And what the fuck should it matter to him? He's just trying to piss me off.

"What's it to you?" I cross my arms, not amused.

Not like ever troubled to give me some, second hand or not. I don't need grand gestures or anything but it's nice to be thought of. For someone to want to make you smile at the least.

"Just interesting to see you rolled out of my bed back right back into his." His nostrils flare, his normal smile nowhere to be seen.

Mkay, now I'm pissed. I categorically did not to that but I also don't have to explain myself to him. He doesn't deserve any excuses with this accident.

Blood boiling, I know I can't diffuse the situation, so I throw fuel on the fire. "His is better."

The moment the words leave my lips, I regret them. They aren't even true. But damn it, I don't appreciate him scolding my choices.

Or my flowers.

I should have known this was a bad idea.

My arms aren't the only ones crossed now. "Fuck you." He says, more enraged than I've ever seen him before.

Part of me wants to shove him against the wall and kiss him until he doesn't care. Part of me wants to slap him for the disrespect. Part of me wants to ask forgiveness.

I want to stomp my foot like a child, but I don't. "Daniel, I..." Starting but trailing off. Not sure where to even go with this.

I'm insulted? I'm sorry? I think we need to talk? I don't know.

"You what?" He demands, arms crossed and looking for a fight. A fight I don't want to have.

Instead we just stand there, staring at each other. Nothing but anger and hurt passing between our eyes. Each of us unsure of what to say.

I want to hate him.

He's hurt me, time and time again and I hate myself for being so drawn to him. For wanting him. I don't know how long we stand like this, but it feels like hours.

We're probably making a scene. Standing here angrily without a word. I know I should go, but I feel so pulled to him. I want to cry.

A hundred things left unsaid between us, but somehow still nothing left to say at all.

Nothing to ease it, I turn on my heel and walk away from him.

Daniel doesn't try to stop me, and I have to force myself not to look back at it. The divide between us only growing ten times larger.