Love Has No Limits

22.

An hour passed and you still couldn't sleep. You head was asking constantly if George could sleep and if he was also thinking of the proximity, even when the bed was so big. You were even scared to move, as it touching him would be weird.

Well it would be, since you were in bed but still.

George stirred and moved to his side, facing you.  "What's wrong?" He asked in a soft voice.

You gasped, thinking he was totally asleep. "Oh sorry, couldn't sleep, did I wake you?"

"Nope, couldn't sleep either..."

"Ah, too nervous?"

"You could say that, yes..." he answered, unsure. "You?"

"Same, I think I'm hating you at the moment..." you dared to say.

He giggled very softly and came closer to you, taking your hand. "What a coincidence, I was thinking the same..."

You bit your lip and cursed yourself internally, getting closer to him, as he cuddled you against his chest, never letting go of your hand.

"Better?" He asked.

"More than," you said, and closed your eyes.

In five minutes, you both were asleep.

—

Next morning, George woke up very early and went to make some tea. You followed him and saw he was getting into the race mode, so didn't bother him that much. You got ready with him and took your stuff to work at the track, because he wanted to be there soon, since he had a boat scheduled to arrive.

"You okay? Remember to be glamorous but not unrealistically glamorous," you chuckled.

He nodded. "Sunglasses but not bling?" He said with a smirk.

You laughed and continued to the marina in his car, where you got into the boat. The one that the reigning champion had was the biggest, full of his team and an official photographer. It was all a bit much, but he liked it. You didn't so much, so you stayed a bit out of the limelight, watching him.

When you reached the garage, it was all data and training of reflexes, on both drivers and mechanics. That's how you went to a corner and replied some emails, checking for the upcoming events and open PR possibilities for George.

Time flew and it was time for the parade, then the race. You moved your station to the driver's room to watch the race in peace. In a moment, George came in running and stood by the door with an impatient face.

"What?" You asked. "Do you need anything?"

"Yes!" He snorted. "My good luck hug, I need it more than ever!"

You giggled and went straight to him. "I'm sorry, didn't want to disturb your focus! Best of luck, G," you told him and cuddled him tightly.

He sighed and nodded at you with a smile before leaving. You turned to the sofa and also sighed, waiting for the race to begin.

—

George started the race spectacularly. Charles was still ahead but thanks to George's faster reacting, the monegasque was in danger of losing the position. Max was behind him, not too close but not too far either, so George had double tasks: attack and defend. Not to mention the maintenance of his medium tyres.

You couldn't hear what was going on at the garage since you were at the driver's room, but on the broadcast, they showed George's radio, saying he should focus on defend his P2. Charles had more tyre degradation and would pit sooner.

A few laps later, Charles pitted and went straight to P4, leaving George in first place. He was given a few laps to open the gap to Max in hard tyres and then just make his last as long as they could.

By lap 42, George was asked to pit in an impressive stint with medium tyres. The degradation wasn't as bad but he had to pit for a new set of hards. George came out of the pits only a small distance behind Max, who went full speed to widen the gap between them.

It went on for a while like that, the radios commenting on the possibility of rain, but nothing as sure so far. On lap 56, Max had to pit and went for softs, to make them last to the end, where he would win comfortably. It seemed George would end up in the podium, because his hard tyres would be 36 laps older and Max's new ones would be only 22.

What everyone wasn't counting on, or maybe it didn't seem like a probability, was a safety car. Around lap 63, call it fate, Stroll crashed after a bad turn at the casino, causing a yellow flag and then a safety car. George was immediately called and changed his last set of soft tyres. Max already had his, and was quite upset at the turn of events. Even then, with almost ten laps to go, the gap was considerably long. George closed it a bit more, trying to get away from Charles who was coming behind him, ready to pounce the moment the safety car left, just like he was planning to do on Max.

The car did its last lap and the rolling start proceeded, with Max and George flying almost side to side. It was already lap 68, and you were standing on the sofa, almost trying to push George's car towards the finish line. The mood in the garage was silence and screaming every two seconds. Four laps later, the fighting stopped and Max was still on the lead. You turned off the tv and ran to the garage to pick on your headphones and watch everything from there.

With six laps to go, it was do or die. You saw Toto press George's radio button and say something, hoping it was some sort of strategy and not an order to just bring the car home. Almost immediately, George pushed and hit the brakes a bit later than Max, giving him an advantage to pass the Dutch in a corner.

You saw everyone cheer as the pit wall started sending messages left and right, giving George permission to widen the gap until the end.

And he did, he finished with a ten second gap on Max and won the Monaco Grand Prix.

—

The joy that was felt around the team was amazing, they all ran towards the podium area to wait for George. He jumped on the team as they all patted him in the back and congratulated him, who was a bit teary eyed. You were hidden behind the mechanics, so they pushed you to the front when George reached towards you with his hand.

You hugged him tightly. "Told you you had it in you, champ!" Then you placed your hands on either side of his helmet and kissed it below his visor. He put his hand over yours and gave it a soft squeeze before leaving to continue with the celebrations.

While looking up at George so happy on the podium, hearing God Save the King, Kelly came closer to you.

"He looks quite happy! I'm glad he won, they both gave a masterclass there," referring to Max as well.

"Never been prouder, except maybe when he won the championship last year," you chuckled.

"I saw you stole my 'kiss the helmet' move," she nudged you with a smirk. "Never mind, looked beautiful."

You blushed intensely. "Oh, well, it was in the spur of the moment, really..."

"Without the helmet it's even better, trust me," she winked and laughed as the champagne part started.

—