"You look beautiful."
"And you're drunk."
"Maybe...but when I wake up tomorrow I'll be sober. And you...you'll still be beautiful."
What happens when a secret summer romance burns like a match...quick and hot?
Are there mistakes that can be forgi...
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The past few weeks have been a whirlwind. Splitting time between the tracks and the studio with May helped curb the rumors just a bit. I did however receive an earful from May about how the kiss was wildly reckless and that there was no turning back now. But, she made sure that I knew how happy she was to see me happy.
I flew to Abu Dhabi with Lewis and George, relishing in the time away from all the reporters. We shared champagne and marveled at the fact that this is the final race weekend of the season. Verstappen already clinched the driver's championship and if we're being honest, I don't think I could handle another season like 2021.
The alarm blares and my eyes begin to flutter open. There is a weight over my midsection and it takes me a second to register that it's Pierre's arm. His muscles flex, as he pulls me back closer to him and plants a kiss on my shoulder.
"I have to get up," I whisper into the dark and all he does is grunt. "Pierre...seriously we have to get up and move."
"No." The one word comes out gruff and sends my heart racing.
"Yes!" I break free and hop from the bed, laughing as Pierre makes one last grab at me. My heart is filled with warmth as I look back once. I am met with his sleepy gaze and mussed hair, let out a soft sigh heading to the bathroom. My shower is fast but necessary as I prepare for our full day.
'Our' day, if you would have told me a few months ago that Pierre would be sitting in bed reading through his interview notes waiting for me to be done showering...I would have laughed in your face. But, as the Frenchman looks at me like the rising sun and a hot cup of coffee I can't contain the happiness that blossoms within me.
"Okay so we are getting to the track at 10. I have team prep and final AlphaTauri interviews while you're with Daniel and Lando. Then I have the Drivers' Parade then we have the race." He pulls the team shirt over his head and I can't help but stare at his exposed muscles. "Hamilton...you know it's rude to stare." He grins and sends a wink towards me. I flip him off and storm towards the kitchen, his laugh follows me out of the room. I start making our breakfast and smile as Pierre turns on music. He grasps for a utensil to use as a microphone and I can't help but join him as our eggs cook. Pierre takes my hand and spins me around and I laugh at the gesture. "You should wear my shirts more often." He nods at the black shirt that hangs low on my body.
"Well the press is going to get a kick out of this one." I smile at the surprise that shows on his features.
"You're actually going to wear it?"
"Well of course. It's a Pierre Gasly original. How could I turn that dow–" my words are cut off by his lips crashing against mine. My hands find his neck as he pulls me closer, deepening the kiss. When we pull away, we're both breathless and his cheeks are flushed.
"C'mon Hamilton, we only have seven minutes to get downstairs and into the car." He takes my hand in his and we hurry out the door.
The drive to the paddock is mostly uneventful...until we see the hoards of people. We are still about a half a kilometer away from the circuit, but groups are already forming. They snap pictures of cars as they go by and cheers arise when they see drivers' waving. We both roll the windows down and stick our hands out the window. The yells drown out our radio as we both grin for pictures. When we find Pierre's parking space, my face hurts from smiling. He hops from the car quickly and comes to my side. As Pierre pulls my door open, I hear more cheers from fans who are trying to snap pictures from outside the fence.
