Page 38 of Over the Limit

“I’m well aware. Believe me, I’m well aware.”

My contract is ending at season’s end.

I need to make something out of nothing.

And, it’s Rossi I’m competing with for the lone seat at Apex and now apparently the seat at Gravitas.

There is also an incredible crop of rookie drivers waiting in the wings to push us out and make our seats their own.

Pressure.

It’s fucking everywhere. All the time. Every minute of every day. While I wouldn’t have it any other way, at times it wears on you.

But my dad is the only person who I’ll let see that exhaustion.

“I told Gio the season’s about to turn around and that he’ll wish he grabbed you before someone else does.”

My dad lifts his hand and waves to somebody. I follow his gaze, thinking it’s Gio and in no way do I want to seem like I ignore the man who pulls the purse strings here at Apex.

But while my search ends up empty for him, my eyes stutter over the sight of someone else.

Over to Blair in pit row. Her boss—Paolo, I think it is—is at her side. They’re walking, both have sunglasses on, and both with intense expressions as if they’re discussing something of utmost importance.

Jesus. The woman takes my breath away. She’s in a pair of white pants and a red T-shirt. Nothing fancy. Nothing sexy. And yet every part of me is aware of her and wants. Desires.

“And dare I ask who that is?” my dad asks, his question seeping into my thoughts. But I can sense the moment he realizes who she is and why I’m looking.

His body tenses.

His exhale is audible.

The man knows me better than anybody else.

“Lachlan.” His voice is a warning I don’t want to hear or heed.

“That’s Paolo,” I try to cover as I tear my eyes from Blair. “He asked if I’d participate in a few more of the outreach programs. Just a cameo here and there but you know, to help reach disadvantaged youth.”

“Good to hear it. It’s always good to remember where you came from.”

“Yep.”

We talk a bit more. About the car’s potential. About the team’s time at Sterling. About my mum and a crazy case she’s in the middle of as a criminal defense lawyer. About how I’m doing—something he always asks as if I’m still a teenager.

But it’s comforting and normal for a big weekend where we as a team and I personally need to perform.

“Dinner?” he asks.

“Sure. Something low-key. I need to keep my focus.”

He flashes a proud grin. “Of course. I’ll text you later.”

“Sounds good.” I turn to go back to my team and my duties.

“Hey, Lach?” he says, pulling me back toward him.

“Yep?”

“You couldn’t fool me way back when. You still can’t fool me now. Pick any woman but her. You’re trying to win a seat. The last thing you need to be known for is disrupting a team over a woman. You have a teammate you need to keep happy. You have a reputation to uphold. Nice try, though.”