"So I was just a fucking bet?"
"Well, I was just a dare, right?"
"Don't you fucking dare to compare some innocent
flirting with taking someone's virginity."
• --- •
Jasmine Leclerc gets dared to flirt with current WDC Max Verstappen, while Max in...
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»»———— ★ ————««
Slowly, I dropped my phone next to me on the couch. My heart raced at the memory of Jasmine's words, and I couldn't wipe the grin off my face as I kept replaying the conversation in my head.
Don't tell sober me that I told you I like you.
I would be lying if her confession did not make me feel all warm and giddy, drunk or not. In any way, I could've confessed my feelings for her too, but I wanted to make sure she would even remember her confession to me, and mostly, I want her to remember my confession.
As I leaned back against the couch, I let out a deep sigh. The confession wasn't a total surprise, and mine wouldn't be either. But actually hearing her say those words, is different and sent a wave of warmth through my chest, almost an electric spark of joy.
I closed my eyes and let the warm wave envelop me. I pictured her goofy smile right before her confession, the way she whispered it as if I sat beside her, the way she held her phone closer to her lips as if the secret would stay within her phone, and then the way her eyes lit up as she had giggled.
I looked at the time and knew I should get some rest, too, if I wanted to be fit for media day tomorrow. But the turmoil immediately started as I thought about seeing Charles too, who had sworn he didn't want me near his little sister anymore.
It's a good thing he didn't know the depths of the bet.
»»———— ★ ————«« 31 days until summer break Friday - Free Practice One and Two - Montreal, Canada
Delivered.
All of them continued to stay on delivered.
I had three minutes until I had to jump in the car for the second free practice of the day. In between all my duties, I had sent Jasmine another text, but that one, too, was left on Delivered.
All of my messages since I woke up Thursday morning, the morning after her confession, weren't read or answered.
Had she regretted her confession? Was she embarrassed about it? I had no idea, and an uneasy feeling crawled on me. Why would she ignore me about it? She could've just pretended she had forgotten about it.
A knock on the door immediately shook me from my thoughts, "Two minutes, mate. Come on, we gotta go to the car."
I closed my eyes, let out a deep breath, and put my phone on the little table before I opened the door and nodded to my trainer, "Yes, let go."
"You're losing 0,09 seconds per lap," GP informed me.
"Copy," I sighed, on the very edge of just requesting to box and forget about this awful practice.
