Overdrive | ✓

36 | the art of racing in the rain, pt ii

Gemma and I had agreed to sit up in a VIP box together for the race.

Rain continued to trickle off of the overhang and onto the glass railing in front of us, little droplets racing down to beat each other to the bottom.

Gemma inched forward in her seat just the slightest as the cars' engines roared to life to begin the formation lap. Rain ricocheted off of everyone's tyres, sending sprays of water like palm fronds into the air.

The icy white of Atlas's car passed right behind Callahan's Ferrari, sitting in that same P5 and P6 they ended up in after yesterday's qualifying disaster. When Atlas had finally joined me back at the hotel, we acknowledged what had happened and his heated exchange with Callahan, but we didn't talk about it in the way we should have. It was race weekend, and I wasn't sure unpacking that would have made today any easier for him.

While we'd been getting used to sleeping in the same bed more frequently, Atlas and I weren't snugglers. In fact, we'd gotten so used to each other that we would end up waking up with our backs to each other, rolled over on our respective sides of the bed.

But last night, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me in close to him, feeling his breathing uneven as his chest pressed against my back. There was an unease to his presence that I couldn't place.

A gust blew a few rogue raindrops onto us, and I was thankful I'd finally made a substance over style decision and opted for Atlas's Porsche bomber jacket as I pulled it tighter over my chest. For once, Gemma lacked the substance, though her style remained in a black cropped blazer and slacks combo with a thick black headband to keep her hair back.

I gestured to her ensemble, which I knew was fresh from the Babaton winter collection. "Gem, are you sure you're good with all of this getting wet?"

"That's what umbrellas are for," she replied as she crossed her legs, turning her body to entirely face the track as the boys came around, but they went for another formation lap instead of lining up for the race start.

"They're going around again?" I asked her.

"It's raining," Gemma stated.

The silence Gemma let linger afterwards was self-explanatory. Everything did in fact change when it rained.

"You know," Gemma continued as she shifted in her chair again, pulling at the sleeves of her blazer. "This is the longest stretch of time that we've spent more time together than not."

I chuckled. "November has really been never ending. Like we're in the story."

Gemma tilted her head at me. "The what?"

"You know, with the dragon, and the book, and the song?" I waved around my wine glass.

Gemma arched an eyebrow at me, her features mixed with alarm and confusion.

I scoffed and waved her off. "You know what, never mind. Remind me when you're flying into John Wayne so I can make sure I'm around to come get you."

"The last weekend of November," she confirmed. "So the month will in fact end."

I breathed out an audible sigh of relief.

It would be the first time Gemma had been back to Encinitas since childhood, and since she wasn't coming to Tahiti, this was how we were going to spend time together before my last event of the season before the finals.

The first few cars made their way down the starting grid, with Adrian's silver Mercedes slotting into pole position. I smirked at Gemma. "Do you think Nina is watching? That's essentially her man up there now, isn't it?"