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

The past week has been the most exhausting one, physically and mentally, I have ever experienced. Christian and me bickering has drained me emotionally too, and I’m ready for Gabriel to come and pick me up today.

We’ve spoken every day, especially on Sunday after he won the fourth race of the season. He’s been strong in these few Grand Prixes, proving he deserves the Ferrari seat more than anyone else but Adrian, who came in second place. James had an engine failure toward the end, and I spent a good ten minutes reminding him he did everything right and the next race will be better.

Being away from home and everyone I care about makes me homesick. As happy as I am to have been given this opportunity and found new friends, I miss how things were. I miss my brother’s humor, James’ warmth, and Gabriel’s love. They try their best to give me as much of it as they can through the phone, but it’ll never compare. That’s why I’m more than giddy to pack my luggage and rush outside to wait for the man I love.

To my surprise, he’s already here, leaning against a bright red Ferrari he must have been given by the team. I drop everything and run toward him, joy spreading through me. Gabriel catches me with ease, holding me as close to him as humanly possible.

“Ma chérie,” he says softly, letting me hear how much he’s missed me. I pull back, my palms moving to his cheeks. He smiles, bringing his dimples out, which I trace with my thumbs. “Hi,” Gabriel adds, but I don’t respond.

I press my lips to his, needing to feel his kiss after over a week of being apart. His tongue slips into my mouth, making me moan from happiness and pleasure. He moves on to my cheek, jaw, then neck, where he nuzzles his face and inhales.

“I’ve missed you,” he says against my sensitive skin before placing a few more kisses on it. I’m finally home.

“Oh yeah? What did you miss?” I tease, and he steps back.

“You. Your face. Your scent. Your body…” Gabriel trails off and grabs my hips to guide me against his chest. His green-brown eyes stare into mine as his fingers slip onto my ass. “Next time, I’ll find a way for us not to be apart for this long. I don’t like it.” A chuckle vibrates off my chest, my hands sliding under his shirt to feel his muscles.

“Neither do I.” I lean my forehead against his, and my heart slowly calms down from the excitement of being in his arms.

“Let’s go, we have a long way ahead of us,” he reminds me before kissing me one last time and opening my car door.

Gabriel and I talk a lot for the first hour of the drive, trying to catch up on what we’ve missed in each other’s lives. Even though we spoke every day, there are little things we want to share.

Eventually, silence fills the car, so he connects my phone through Bluetooth, telling me to play whatever I want. I shuffle random songs from my ‘liked playlist’ before turning my head to look at him. The bandana he put on is keeping his hair in place, his curls draping over the red fabric. I can’t help myself as I lift my phone to take a picture of him and set it as my lock screen. He looks too beautiful, and I love how happy he is.

We arrive at a traffic light, and Gabriel hits the breaks a little too hard, the notebook he carries around with him everywhere falling into my foot space. It opened, and a sketch of me standing in the Ferrari box, looking at the screens, is drawn on the page. Before I look further, I close the book so I can place it back in the cupholder where it was before.

“You can look through it. It’s mostly you anyway,” he says, and my mouth drops.

“But isn’t this like your diary?” I ask, and he smiles, his eyes never shifting from the road to keep us safe.

“I’m not ashamed to show you what is going on inside my head.” He flashes me his dimples and perfect teeth.

My fingers run over the black, rough cover of the notebook, and I smile before I even reopen it. On the first page is a drawing of his Formula One car, and I scan it, admiring the detailed sketch. The next page has a wolf on it, which I know is his favorite animal.

The following ten pages are drawings of me either sleeping at the airport, doing yoga, lying on the beach, smiling, crying, laughing, or every other emotion I have ever shown him. Each drawing is so damn beautiful, and all of them have one interesting thing in common: I’m wearing a necklace with an F1 car and the number seven on it… his number.

I’m pretty sure I’ve forgotten how to breathe because, eventually, I silently gasp for air. I reach for Gabriel’s hand and take it in mine, squeezing it. He lifts our intertwined hands to press a kiss to the back of mine while I skip through the empty pages and find another drawing on the last one. I don’t recognize the woman in it.

“What’s wrong, ma chérie?” he asks, but I’m too stuck on studying her features to respond.

She has straight, long, red hair and green eyes, the only two features in color, along with full lips and, unlike mine, a slim face.

“Valentina,” he says, and I cover my mouth with my hand. “Talk to me,” he begs, but I don’t say anything to him. He pulls over on the side of the road, and I turn my head as soon as he parks. “What did I do?” His eyes are pleading with me now, and I swallow hard. I show him the page of his notebook that has my throat dry.

“Who is she?”

The answer terrifies me. There are no other girls in this book, only me, and all of a sudden I notice this woman, more beautiful than any other I’ve ever seen.

“Her name is Harlow. We slept together a few months ago, after you went on your date with Eduardo,” he explains while I nod along to his words. “It was a one-time thing, chérie, a distraction. I have no intention of ever seeing her again,” he explains, his hand reaching out to touch my cheek. I let him, even though there is something about this that still bothers me.

“Why did you draw her if she was just a one-time thing, a distraction?” My voice is filled with pain, and he flinches when he hears it.

“Chérie, I can explain,” he starts, but hearing those words makes me realize I don’t want to hear what he has to say right now.

“Don’t, I just need a minute.” Without a doubt, I’m being irrational. I should be listening to him, and I shouldn’t be reacting like this.

“But I can—”

“Don’t, just please, don’t,” I interrupt him and turn my head so I don’t have to look at his defeated expression.

“I’m yours, baby, you have me, one hundred percent. I’ll explain when you’re ready, but I don’t want you to question that, ever,” he says, and I close my eyes in response. He starts the car again and drives to the hotel.

Gabriel wouldn’t cheat on me, and this is far from it, but it doesn’t sit right with me that he kept the drawing for some reason.

He checks us into our hotel room while I try to understand his desire to draw someone he slept with and then keep it after.

We take the elevator to an antique-decorated room. The colors on the walls are light pink and cream, and the couch in front of the television matches it. The bed is huge, and I wish my thoughts would move in the right direction.

Gabriel puts his bag on the chair on the far side of the bedroom, and as I watch him, I have to turn away. I sit on the couch and don’t talk to him for quite some time. When he settles down opposite me, I can’t control my feelings anymore. I’ve been quiet, thinking about what it could possibly mean for long enough.

“Why the hell did you draw her?” I ask, and his eyes drop to the floor. “Why? Why her? You slept with her, you drew her, and you kept the fucking drawing? What am I supposed to think?”

“I drew her because I hoped it’d take my mind off you. I tried everything and it was just another way for me to deal with the fact that I’m never going to be good enough for you. You went on a date with Eduardo, and I was hurt.” This only irritates me more.

“Are you trying to make me feel bad?” I ask with a raised voice and stand up. He gets up too but keeps his distance.

“No, fuck no, that’s not what I’m trying to do, I’m trying to explain!” he defends, his hands lifting to point at absolutely nothing in front of him.

“If she’s still in there, maybe you do have some sort of feelings for her!” I don’t know why I’m yelling, but it frustrates him.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

“Pour l’amour de Dieu, Valentina, je suis amoureux de toi!” he says, his voice raised as he tells me he’s in love with me for the first time. “I tried to get you out of my head by sketching her, but you can see I wasn’t into it by looking at it. It’s horrible, it’s ugly, it’s nothing compared to the ones of you. So, please, stop reading into this. I forgot it’s even there, that is how meaningless it was.” He is out of breath, and I tug on the hem of my shirt. “I know how much this must be bothering you, trust me. I am so sorry she is still in there, but you know what?”

He takes the notebook into his hands, goes to the page of her, and rips it out before he tears it apart and throws the shreds all over the room.

“I love you, I need you, I want you.” Gabriel walks over to me, puts his hands on my hips, and shakes them while he is talking.

“I don’t want you to draw other girls you slept with,” I mumble, and he puts his forehead against mine.

“I never will again. I don’t enjoy drawing anyone else,” he admits and chuckles, relief settling over both of us. “I want to draw you, all of you.”

I pull back so I can look at his handsome features and remember the time I thought about him drawing all of me.

My hands cup his face, the stubble of his beard rough against my soft skin, and teasingly press my lips to his. He groans in response, making me grin. I lean away, leaving us both wanting more, and then, remove my clothes, pull my hair out of my ponytail, and lie down on the bed.

“You want all of me?” I ask, and he nods. He seems to be in a trance as he looks me up and down. “Then draw all of me,” I say, but he shakes his head.

“Not here. I want a big canvas for you.” I smirk, and he looks at me with a confused expression.

“Well, I’m naked, so either draw me or fuck me,” I offer, and he rips his shirt over his head before he moves between my legs, claiming my lips.

His tongue slides into my mouth, and I moan into his. He lets his hands roam my body and swiftly runs his fingers over my clit. My hips push off the bed so I can press my sensitive area even more against his finger.

“I love you so much,” I blurt out, and his movements come to an abrupt stop as he leans back to look into my eyes.

“Say it again,” he begs, both of us smiling like we just won the lottery.

“I love you, Gabriel Matteo Biancheri, with my entire heart and soul.” He attacks my face with kisses, and I giggle underneath him.

“I love you,” he repeats over and over again, his lips eventually settling onto mine. I’m sighing against them when he pulls back with wide eyes. “Shit, we have to go in twenty minutes,” he says, lifting me up and off the bed.

He leads us to the shower, but I assure him I already took one this morning. He barely acknowledges my response before jumping in by himself.

“Fuck,” he repeats every once in a while as he washes, and I can’t help but laugh.

He’s done within minutes, rushing past me and toward his suitcase. I finish my makeup in record time. It’s simple, mostly brown tones that highlight my unique eyes. The dress I bought from Evangelin fits my body snuggly, showing off my curves. The white high heels match the dress with the flower-pattern well.

When Gabriel notices me, his eyes fixate on my face, then my body.

“You look…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, he simply walks over to where I am and puts his hands on my hips, his favorite way to drag my body against his. “Let’s ditch the event. I can think of a thousand better things to do.” I laugh a little, and he presses his lips to mine, stopping my laughter.

“Let’s go.”

Gabriel does as he is told, and I have to take a few deep breaths to calm my body, which is making my life a lot more difficult than it needs to be at the moment.