Rush: Part One & Two (The Pitstop Series Book 3)

Gabriel pays for the round of eighteen holes, and the guy at the counter hands us two putters with an expression of awe. He knows who he’s helping, and my boyfriend even asks if he wants to take a photo. The man gives him a few excited nods, and I take their picture before we walk outside.

Gabriel hands me a golf ball and a putter, winking at me as he does it. I set it at the start line and move into position to hit it. The summer sun is hot on my skin, but I ignore it as I get ready to kick Gabriel’s butt.

Naturally, while I position myself, I push my ass out a little more than necessary to mess with his head. I swing my putter and the ball lands close to the hole, making me stick out my tongue at him. He shakes his head, his smile bright and his dimples deeply imprinted into his cheeks.

Gabriel hits his ball, and it rolls almost directly next to mine. However, he’s closer than I am, which is why I go first and sink the ball on my second try. Somehow, it takes Gabriel three more until he succeeds, which I can’t help but make fun of. I’m only joking, and he knows it, making him roll his eyes with amusement.

The next four holes are uneventful, but he is ahead when we arrive at the sixth one, and I have to find a better way to distract him. If he wins, he’s going to brag about it for the next few weeks, and I am not going to let that happen.

I clear my throat before I start my distraction plan.

“Mon amour, did I tell you how hot you look today? Your abs, your arms, and, especially, your ass look fantastic in that outfit.”

It does exactly what I want it to. Gabriel turns around with a shocked expression, but there is also something else on there. Pride? I’m convinced he’s proud, not of himself, but maybe of being with me, or because I’m confident enough with him to say things like that.

“Man, I really love your tight—”

“Okay, chérie, we’re in public.”

I hold up my hands in mock surrender and mumble a ‘fine’ before I let him get into position again. I get up and stand behind him, my hands covering his ass. He chuckles in response, but, for some reason, he doesn’t make me stop and doesn’t remove my hands.

“You’re being very naughty,” he tells me, and I grin.

“I know, but I also know you love it.” He hits the ball, and, just as expected, it lands far away from the hole. “Too easy,” I say more to myself than him, but he hears me anyway.

“Wait, does that mean you don’t actually like my ass?” Gabriel pushes his bottom lip forward, and I laugh.

“Of course I do,” I assure him, and he looks at me with a confused expression.

I don’t think he believes my intentions to be pure, which they aren’t. When I get a hole-in-one on my try, I jump up in disbelief and turn to Gabriel, who is shaking his head.

“Doesn’t count,” he says, and I let out half a laugh.

“Of course it does!” But Gabriel is shaking his head, his curls bouncing a bit from the movement.

“Nope, it can’t. It’s not fair,” he explains, and I burst into laughter, jumping onto his back when he tries to walk away. He catches me, holding onto my legs. “Don’t try to cheer me up when you’re kicking my ass,” he says, and I press my lips to his ear, whispering a ‘sorry’.

A couple of holes later, I’m barely ahead on the scorecard. I lie the ball on the line before me, for the fifteenth time, and position myself to hit the golf ball. Sweat drips down the left side of my face, and I wipe it away.

It is getting hotter now that it’s noon, and I look over at Gabriel to see if we have any water left. He hands me the bottle, and I give it back to him once I have taken a few sips.

“Do you mind if I empty it?” he asks, and I shake my head.

Gabriel takes the bottle, and, not very subtly, pours the content over his white shirt. It becomes see-through in an instant. The fabric clings to his abs in the most delicious way. My heart forgets how to beat, and my head forgets how to breathe. No matter how many times I’ve seen him shirtless, his body never ceases to make mine ache.

“Oops,” he says, but we both know it was no accident. He’s doing the same thing I was.

I clear my throat in an attempt to bring my head back to reality, and it works, somewhat. I force my full attention to the ball and hit it. It lands centimeters from the hole, and I turn back to look at my frantic boyfriend.

“What you gotta know is, mon soleil, I may love your body, but I also love winning.” He bites his bottom lip and nods.

“You know what I love? That beautiful smile on your full lips. However, I’m going to win and wipe it off your face.”

My mouth forms an O-shape, but then I giggle when he sticks out his tongue and puts on a concentrating face I have never seen before. It’s cute and weird at the same time, his nose scrunched and his tongue pressing against his teeth.

“I got this. Watch me, baby.” I’m a little disappointed when he misses the hole by at least two meters.

“Hitting the hole isn’t your strong suit, is it?” He touches his tongue to the roof of his mouth and stares at me with a ‘seriously’ expression.

“We both know no one fucks you as well as I do.” I give him an agreeing nod before we both grin at each other.

By the time we arrive at the last hole, Gabriel and I are head-to-head, and he ends up winning the game. My hand lifts to the necklace he gave me, and I smile to myself. I’m on his team, whenever he succeeds at something, I’m going to be happy for him because that’s how much I love him. If he fails, I will be upset. So, it’s a good thing he won, otherwise I wouldn’t have enjoyed my victory as much anyway.

At least that’s what I keep telling myself to feel better.

Gabriel turns to me with his smile bright and sweet. I take two steps toward him, closing the unbearable distance, and put my hands on his hips. He places his on my neck and leans down to kiss me. I grin against his lips, and he kisses my cheek before pulling away.

I wrap my arms around him, and he hugs me back just as tight. I could stay like this forever, but Gabriel has to get back to my house soon to start his preparations. Somehow, I manage to peel myself off him, frowning as I do. He smiles at my expression, running his thumb over my bottom lip.

“And you say I’m the clingy one,” he says, causing me to grin from ear to ear.

I hand him the keys to my Mustang and let him take me home. For the first time in my life, no part of me feels like driving. I’d rather look out of the window and appreciate how breathtaking my home is. There are no clouds in the sky, all of the plants are in full bloom, and birds are chirping happily.

Then, I turn my head to admire Gabriel. The way his veins stick out on his arm as he drives, the way he bites the inside of his cheek as he concentrates on the road ahead of him, and the way his stubble complements his green-brown eyes make me swoon.

I love his stubble. It’s short, clean, and I think it fits his face very well. It was patchy when I first met him, but that was only because he was so young. Now that he’s almost twenty-two, it is full and makes him look mature.

When we arrive back home, Gabriel tells me to stay in my room and get ready until he’s done and my guests have arrived. All of the presents he gave me this morning are on my bed, and I take out the helmet before placing it on the nightstand on the other side of where I sleep. My eyes drift to the mini one James gave me exactly one year ago. James…

I’m worried about him. I’ve texted him a couple of times, but he won’t answer any of the messages. Everything was fine, and now he’s distant again. I hope he’ll be at my party, but he hasn’t even called to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me like he does every year.

James’ life is upside down, and he doesn’t have the time nor the energy to deal with anything other than getting it back under control. I would probably do the same if I was in his shoes. Would I? Ugh. It’s frustrating that I have no idea how he’s feeling, or even how Annabel is.

Before I can overthink things any further, I go into my bathroom and put on some makeup to match the silk dress Gabriel bought me. I slide it on, the material smooth against my skin. I’m not surprised my boyfriend chose a dress that highlights my breasts, I am, however, surprised it doesn’t accentuate my ass.

I can’t help but notice ninety percent of my clothes have flowers on them. It’s the only connection I have to my grandmother. She loved flowers and buying clothes with floral patterns for me. I’ve been doing it without realizing it, but I don’t mind it one bit. We didn’t have the best relationship, but it doesn’t change that I loved her.

I let my mind freak out about the fact that Lorenzo Mattia will be at my house in less than an hour, contract in hand.

It’s really happening.

I’m going to be a fucking F1 driver.

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