[wattpad editor's picks, nov-dec 2023]
After a one night stand in Monaco between a fallen from grace championship surfer and an up and coming Formula One star, the two are sure they'll never see each other again...but what happens in Monaco doesn't...
There was a part of me that forgot what winning felt like. Or rather, forgot that I had the ability to win. But when my name rang loud over the speakers with a 9.45 final score, and Gemma ran over and tackled me into a hug despite the fact that I was soaking wet, it all became reality.
Atlas fucking Vaughn who? I had my own trophy and my own podium to stand on. I traded that ugly Pirelli cap for a lei adorned with plumerias and shells, and the champagne spray mixed with the fresh, tangy water from the ranch tasted sweeter than anything Silverstone, England could have conjured.
That night, with confidence and champagne still swimming in my system, I found it in me to conjure up something bold and brilliant, like the trophy that I clutched onto as if my life depended on it. I took a quick selfie next to me in bed and sent it.
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His response had come almost immediately - it was noon in Monaco. A tired chuckle escaped my lips, and I shook my head at my phone. "What an ass," I muttered.
"What happened?" Gemma stirred in the other hotel room bed, her blonde hair splayed out in ribbons against the crisp white comforter.
Another notification came through, and I thought my heart was going to burst from my chest.
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"Nothing," I gave a wistful sigh. "It's nothing."
"Mhmm," Gemma mused, rolling over so her back was to me. "Nothing is never nothing."
Nothing is nothing, until you trade drunk selfies and phone calls with nothing after midnight. Then nothing becomes something, though what that something was I wasn't sure.
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