RACING HEARTS ---- | O.P |

5

The paddock had emptied, leaving only echoes of the day's chaos. I could see Oscar stood by his car, his expression unreadable and I'd seen him fierce, vulnerable, and even drunk.

"You look tired," he said, his voice low. "Let me take you."

I hesitated. The hotel wasn't far, but my legs felt like lead. "Thank you."

The car was sleek, the leather seats cool against my skin. As we pulled away from the paddock, I glanced at Oscar. His jaw was set, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

"About last night," I began, my voice shaky. "I'm just glad you don't hate me anymore."

He shot me a sideways glance, his eyes searching mine. "I never hated you."

I blinked. "But—"

"Disagreements," he said, "aren't hate."

And just like that, the awkwardness returned. We sat in silence, the engine's purr filling the car. The night blurred past—the city lights, the empty streets. I wondered if maybe—just maybe—this was our chance to find common ground.

"You know," I said, my voice small, "I've never been good at this."

"At what?" Oscar asked.

"Working with people," I admitted. "I'm better with data than emotions."

He chuckled. "Emotions are overrated."

I leaned back, watching the road. "Maybe. But they're unavoidable."

And then, as I closed my eyes, the gentle hum of the engine lulled me into sleep.

 Amelia slept, her head lolling against the car window. I'd seen her fierce and crazy side But now, as I walked around the car, I was something else—gentle, almost caring.

I lifted her, her body warm and pliant in my arms. She stirred, murmuring something unintelligible. I wondered why I was doing this — why I was carrying her like a knight rescuing a damsel. 

I'd never been one for chivalry, but here I was, cradling her against my chest.

The hotel lobby was a hushed sanctuary, the marble floors cool under my shoes. The hotel staff stared, their eyes wide. I ignored them, my focus on the elevator. I stepped inside, the doors closing with a soft hiss. Amelia shifted, her cheek brushing my shoulder. I held my breath, willing her to stay asleep.

The elevator ascended, the numbers ticking upward. I wondered what to do about her work clothes—whether to undress her or leave her in the rumpled polo. But I didn't want to overstep, didn't want to cross a line we hadn't even defined.

Her room was down the corridor, the carpet plush under my feet. I fumbled with the key card i found in her back pocket, my hands unsteady. The door swung open, revealing a dimly lit space. I carried her to the bed, her weight a reminder of vulnerability.

As I lowered her, she stirred, her eyes fluttering open. "Oscar?"

"Shh," I whispered. "Go back to sleep."

She blinked, confusion in her eyes. "Why are you—"

"Because you looked tired," I said, my voice gruff. "And because—"

"Because?" Her lips curved into a half-smile.

"Because maybe I don't hate you," I admitted, my heart pounding. "Maybe I—"

She interrupted, her voice soft. "Maybe you what?"

I hesitated. "Maybe I want to surprise you."

She laughed, the sound like a secret shared. "Maybe I want that too."

And then, as I turned to leave, she whispered, "Stay."

I almost froze in place. "What?"

"Stay," she repeated, her eyes half-closed. "Just for a while."

And so, I slipped into bed beside her, the sheets cool against my skin. We lay there, side by side, two rivals turned something else. And as I watched her drift back to sleep to make sure she was ok before I drifted of too.

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ok yayy its going somewhere

honesty i have no plans so ... lets just see what happens.

also got alot of school work so ill try to update most weeks