There's Twice as Many Stars as Usual| L.S

13

The next week

Charlotte

I woke up to the hustle and bustle outside my hotel window. It was officially media day for the Monaco Grand Prix, a day filled with interviews, press conferences, and promotional events. Normally, I would be down there, mingling with journalists and promoting the team, but today was different.

I decided to skip out on media day and instead dedicate the day to writing. My publisher had been relentless about my draft not being finished. The novel was almost there, but I needed this day to focus, to polish those final chapters and make them shine.

Sitting at the desk in my hotel room, I opened my laptop and stared at the screen. The familiar characters and plotlines swirled in my mind, waiting to be penned down. The sound of engines roaring in the distance reminded me of the world outside, but I tuned it out, diving deep into the world of fiction.

Hours passed in a blur as I typed away, lost in the flow of words and ideas. Occasionally, I paused to sip coffee or stretch my legs, but my focus remained unwavering. By late afternoon, I could see the finish line in sight. The story was coming together, characters finding resolution, conflicts reaching their climax.

As the sun began its descent over Monaco, casting long shadows through my hotel room, I finally leaned back in my chair, feeling a sense of accomplishment wash over me. The final chapters were polished, the manuscript was ready for submission. I saved the document, closed my laptop, and stretched my cramped fingers.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. I hesitated, not expecting anyone. Peering through the peephole, I saw Mick standing there, looking slightly disheveled but with a smile on his face.

"Hey, Charlotte," he greeted me as I opened the door. "How was your day?"

"Productive," I replied with a satisfied smile. "I decided to skip media day and finish up the novel."

Mick nodded approvingly. "Good call. How's it looking?"

"Finished," I announced proudly. "Finally."

"That's fantastic," he said, stepping inside.

"Yeah, I needed the quiet," I admitted, closing the door behind him. "How was it for you?"

"Busy," Mick sighed, sinking into the chair opposite my desk. "But that's expected. The media always has a field day with Monaco."

We chatted for a while about the day's events, catching up on team updates and discussing the upcoming race weekend. As we talked, my phone buzzed on the desk. I picked it up to see a text from Logan.

Logan
Hey Charlotte,
wanna hang out in my hotel room for a bit?
I'm bored out of my mind.

I glanced at Mick, considering the implications. He raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Everything okay?" he asked, sensing my hesitation.

"Yeah," I replied, my mind racing. "Logan just asked if I wanted to hang out in his hotel room."

Mick chuckled knowingly. "Ah. What do you want to do?"

I weighed my options carefully. hanging out wouldn't hurt, right? Besides, it might be nice to unwind after a day of intense writing.

"I think I'll go," I decided finally, typing out a response to Logan.

Charlotte
Sure, why not? I'll be there in a bit.

Mick nodded. "Have fun. Text me if you need anything."

"Thanks, Mick," I said gratefully, grabbing my room key and heading out. The anticipation of seeing Logan again mixed with the satisfaction of finishing my novel made my heart race. It was going to be an interesting evening.

I rode the elevator up to Logan's hotel floor, my mind swirling with a mix of nerves and curiosity. Finding his room, I took a deep breath and knocked. The door swung open almost immediately, revealing Logan with a welcoming smile.

"It's great to see you," he greeted warmly, stepping aside to let me in.

"Likewise," I replied, entering the room.

"You can sit wherever you want," Logan offered, gesturing casually around the room.

I opted for the bed, settling in while Logan joined me. We sat side by side, a comfortable silence settling between us briefly.

"What do you want to do?" I asked, breaking the quiet.

"Up to you," he responded, scratching his neck thoughtfully. "We could watch a movie or go out or something."

"How about we watch a movie?" I suggested. "You pick."

Logan nodded, grabbing the remote and scrolling through the options on the TV. He settled on a classic action film, and we both leaned back against the pillows, the movie casting a flickering light over the room.

As the movie played, we occasionally exchanged comments about the plot or characters, the tension easing between us with each passing minute. It felt strangely familiar yet tinged with the excitement of the unknown.

Halfway through the movie, Logan shifted closer, our shoulders touching. I glanced at him, feeling a rush of warmth at his proximity. He caught my gaze and smiled, a silent understanding passing between us.

"You comfortable?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, perfect," I replied, my heart fluttering.

We continued watching, the movie's intensity reflecting the unspoken tension between us. As the credits rolled, Logan glanced at me.

"Thanks for coming over," he said sincerely.

"Thanks for inviting me," I replied, my voice soft.

"I should probably head back," I murmured reluctantly, though part of me wanted to stay.

"Yeah, of course," Logan nodded, his hand lingering on mine for a moment longer before we both stood up.

Walking to the door, I turned to face him one last time. "I had a really nice time," I admitted, meeting his eyes.

"Me too," Logan agreed, a smile playing on his lips.

With a final nod, I stepped into the hallway, my heart still racing from the evening's unexpected turn of events. As I made my way back to my own room.