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

Approximately Three Years Ago…

Gabriel has been on my mind constantly for the past two weeks. I’ve never had a crush on anyone before and don’t mind it at all. Every time I think about Gabriel, a smile spreads over my face, and my heart thumps against my ribcage.

I sit in my bedroom when Adrian comes in and lets me know he invited Gabriel over for dinner. I didn’t even know Gabriel was in LA, but I’m excited. James is already staying at our house, visiting from Monaco. Hopefully, James and Gabriel behave this time.

Without putting too much effort into how I look, I stroll out of my room and find James and Adrian sitting on the couch. They’re watching a show and laughing at whatever is being said. When James notices me, he winks before turning his attention back to the TV. I sit down on the arm of the couch and wait for the doorbell to ring.

My mind makes up all the different scenarios of what might happen tonight. At one point, I even jerk my head toward the direction of the door because I’m convinced the bell just rang. My heart goes wild when I think about seeing him so soon. I hope he will be happy to see me. I hope we’ll have some time to talk. I really hope James and Gabriel will get along this time. I almost sigh when I imagine them getting into an argument. For some reason, I also start doubting whether Gabriel is the guy I remember from the party. What if he isn’t the great person I’ve imagined him to be? What if I was completely wrong about him and just wasted two weeks obsessing over an asshole?Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

I force myself to think about something else when the doorbell finally rings. I jump up from the couch. Both heads turn in my direction, and my eyes go wide when I realize my behavior isn’t normal.

“I’ll just, uh, open the door,” I mumble, and they both give me a slight nod.

Before I open it, I take three deep breaths to calm myself, but Gabriel quickly knocks it out of me. His beautiful eyes seem greener today, and his curly brown hair complements them perfectly. The blue shorts and white t-shirt highlight his tanned skin, and I forget how to talk.

“Hello, Lady Valentina,” he says and chuckles. His damn dimples make my cheeks flush and heart pound rapidly.

“Please tell me this isn’t going to become a thing,” I beg, and he chuckles again. My lips betray me when they reveal a smile.

“Not if you do not like it, Your Majesty,” he jokes, and I shake my head, still grinning like a child.

Politely, he presses a kiss on my cheek to greet me and then walks past me to say ‘hello’ to his friends. My skin tingles from his touch long after he is gone. I roll my eyes and slightly groan. He makes me shy, nervous, and I hate the control he has over my usual confidence. Then again, isn’t a crush supposed to make you feel like this?

Everyone shares stories for most of the dinner, and I laugh harder than I have in a long time. It is so different with them than it is with my peers. I have much more fun with those three guys than I have with twenty classmates. Maybe it’s because I have more in common with the men sitting around my dining table. After dinner, I sit on the couch while the guys stay at the kitchen table. I have homework to do and, as much as I would love to continue talking to them, I have to stop procrastinating.

“Mind if I sit down?” Gabriel asks while taking a seat, and I grin. For a split second, I look at him. “What are you doing?” he asks, and I frown while looking at my paper.

“Biology homework,” I reply and look up at him once again. His eyes are focused on my face, and his dimples deeply bury themselves into his cheeks. I love this. I love how my mind, heart, and body respond to him. It is new to me but also fascinating and wonderful. My skin is tingling, shivers are running down my spine, and there is throbbing in places I haven’t experienced like this before. I enjoy feeling this way.

“May I steal your attention, or is the homework important?” he says, and I smirk.

“It is, but you’re more interesting,” I reply smoothly and mentally pat myself on the back for being cool about this. Gabriel takes my papers in his hands and places them neatly in my folder before putting them on the table. “Okay, what would you like to talk about?” I tug my feet under my butt and intertwine my fingers. I’m so nervous, mainly because his cologne is strong and delightful. Mahogany.

“You,” he simply states, and I roll my eyes before I touch my tongue to the roof of my mouth. He is smooth and incredibly cheesy at the same time.

“Well, as you know, I’m a huge Formula One fan,” I start, and he laughs a little. “I also love books, and I spend a great deal of time at school, studying things I couldn’t care less about.”

“I felt the same way when I was still in high school. I was always bored because I wanted to spend all of my time racing.” He runs his hand through his hair nervously, and I reflexively cock an eyebrow. I make him nervous? “I came across an article about you recently,” he starts, and I hold my breath. “You were in Formula Three and a fantastic driver. If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?” he goes on, making me look down at the couch.

“I don’t mind that you ask, but I also don’t have an answer for you. Your guess is as good as mine,” I admit. The only explanation I have for being kicked from the team is because I’m a girl. I followed all the rules, showed nothing but respect, and was rewarded with the opposite. Gabriel’s eyes reveal compassion.

“From what I’ve seen and what you’ve shared with me, you deserve a seat in Formula One more so than I do. I’m very sorry, Val.” His fingers slide on top of my hand, and I suck in a sharp breath. This is a very emotional subject and combining his touch with it overwhelms my head.

“Well, I’m not giving up yet. I’m still training, and an opportunity will come, I’m sure of it.” He nods in agreement. “Okay, so you know a lot about me now, and I barely know anything about you. What do you like to do in your free time?” A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth.

Gabriel is an artist. He has been drawing since he was seven years old. I ask to see some of his works, but he only shows me one of his drawings. It is enough for me to realize how talented he is. The girl in the sketch is gorgeous and, to my surprise, fully clothed. I would have expected Gabriel to have muses who strip for him. I would strip for him…

“You look shocked,” he points out, making me shift my gaze from the woman to him. “Should I be offended that I don’t look like an artist?” he says, but his smile reveals he’s merely teasing.

“Not at all. I just wasn’t expecting someone who puts as much time into his career to be this good at such a difficult hobby,” I state, and Gabriel winks playfully at me.

“My mom bought me my first art supplies,” he explains after a brief moment of silence. His smile has faded, and a serious look replaced it. “She had a brain aneurysm and dropped dead in the grocery store. My dad followed her and died a year after,” he admits, and I almost choke on my breath. I reach out to take his hand in mine and run my thumb over his smooth skin. Gabriel and I have more in common than I could have ever imagined. “It’s just my brother Jean and me now. Although we do have my aunt and her wife, who look after Jean, but that’s it, they are all that I have left,” he says, and a single tear escapes his eye. He’s witty, kind, has a great sense of humor, and doesn’t mind being vulnerable. This is a very dangerous combination.

“I understand,” I tell him, and he looks up at me. I lean forward and wipe the tear away. It’s instinctual, and I fear I may have overstepped my boundaries, but he closes his eyes in response to my touch. “My father died in a car accident, and my mother ran away before I could walk.” I shrug, and he is watching me closely. “The pain never stops. As hard as we try, as much as we want it to end, it never does. But I wish I could make you feel better,” I say, and he leans closer toward me. I don’t move; I simply can’t. His breath is hot on my lips, and I can taste his gum on my tongue before he even touches me. Gabriel’s lips are a centimeter away from mine, and I wish he would kiss me. But I soon snap out of it and remind myself that what we are about to do is wrong. I push him back gently. “We can’t. I think it’s best if you go back to the others,” I remind him, and his face falls. I stand up but lean down to press a kiss on his cheek. “Good night.”

I go upstairs, my homework in my left hand, regret in my right. With a groan, I drop onto my small bed, slightly hitting my head on the headboard and making another one leave my lips.

The following morning, I feel as horrible about what happened as I did yesterday. Without even trying to make myself look better, I walk downstairs in my pajamas and tousled hair. I stop and almost turn back around when I notice Gabriel is sitting on the couch, where he clearly slept. I should have known Adrian would insist he stay here. Instead of running the other way, I am too mesmerized by the way his hair is still in place, his lips somehow fuller, and his upper body without a shirt. His lean body looks delicious on the sofa, and it drives me crazy to see his muscles on display like this. When he sees me, I can tell he regrets yesterday.

“Morning,” I mumble and continue to make my way down the stairs in my Hello Kitty pajamas, which I am just now becoming aware of. I attempt to control my hair at least, but I’m convinced it is without success.

“Hey,” he replies simply. “I’m so sorry about yesterday,” he starts, and I stop halfway to the kitchen. “I don’t know what came over me. You and I have a lot in common. For a minute, I forgot…” I wish I could turn around and look at his face, but something tells me not to.

“Don’t worry, I’m not upset,” I assure him.

“Okay, I just wanted to say I would have never attempted to kiss you if-” he starts, but I cut him off because his words are hurting my feelings.

“You’re not my type either, so don’t worry about it,” I inform him, and he flinches.

“Oh,” he replies, and I go into the kitchen. Well, this is it, this is why I never liked anyone, to avoid this awful feeling spreading from my chest into my stomach. “Val,” I hear him say right before he comes into the kitchen. Luckily but disappointingly, he has put a shirt on. “I hope we can still be friends. I really like you. You’re smart, funny, and wonderfully passionate. Plus, you understand me in a way no one ever has, and I don’t want to lose you over a small moment of weakness.” I nod, and he holds out his phone for me. I put my number in, making him smile. “I’ll talk to you soon,” he states, and I go about my day without speaking to him again. I don’t even notice when he leaves my house because I’m too busy finding distractions.