I'd always loved the exhilaration of Qualifying day.

People buzzing around, engines roaring from garages and the track, but most of all the thrill of following how milliseconds on the screen decided the position of Sunday's race.

Jin's hand found my shoulder as I watched Phoenix pull out of the garage for his final lap in Q3. He was in second place right now, right behind Connor, meaning he had to improve his lap time to gain the pole position.

"It's two hundredth of a second, Flo," Jin said, the hope in his eyes just as bright as it was in every other Azure Racing mechanic lately. These guys were counting on Phoenix to make up for hundreds of hours of work we'd put into his car.

"I know. He'll make it." I shot him a wink before putting my headset on, redirecting my gaze to the pit wall where the screens showed our data and live-feed images of Phoenix rushing down the track.

With my hands behind my back, trying to hide my nervous finger-pulling from the cameras and engineers, I listened to the radio rumbling through my headphones.

"The car feels good. Anything on your end?" Phoenix asked.

"Nope," Chris responded, "Numbers are fine. Make sure to hit the apex at turn 1 to save some time. Other than that, you're free to go."

"Gotcha. Let's do this."

And holy fucking shit.

Did Phoenix do this.

He raced down the asphalt like he was born to do just that, coming down the start-and-finish straight with an advantage of unspeakable nine tenths to Connor, who was now closing his own lap.

We all anxiously waited for Connor to finish his lap, hoping to hell and back he wouldn't improve his times... And he didn't.

Phoenix was on pole.

The entire garage erupted in cheers and applause, my mechanics pulling each other in hugs to celebrate this milestone of a victory. I barely heard Chris as he gave the message to Phoenix, who was just finishing his victory lap. "Alright, Phoenix, I'm sorry but you only—"

"Don't you fucking say it, Jojo."

I snorted at Phoenix's frustration, but nudged Chris's shoulder to encourage him to clear the air. No need to torture the guy much longer. "Just fucking with you, mate. That's P1. Pole position for the one and only Phoenix McCoy! Great job."

Silence lingered on the radio, but the live-feed showed the cockpit of Phoenix's car as he came down the main straight. He hit his fists on the steering wheel before raising one of them into the sky, his head falling backward for just a split second.

"Oh my fucking god... Fuck. Damn, that's never felt this good. Holy shit." His laugh seeped straight into my bones, and I couldn't help the massive grin on my face as I watched him pull into parc fermé, where he stopped his car in front of the sign with a bold 1. "The car was amazing. Thank you so much for that. What a miracle."

He was still shaking his head by the time he got out, giving his car an appreciative pat to the top of its hood. Michael and a few other mechanics were already waiting to congratulate Phoenix with loud cheers.

Connor and Rafi got out of their cars, each of them fist bumping the other before doing the same with Phoenix. It was a sign of respect, and I knew no matter how much they hadn't gotten along in the past, all three of them would stick to this unspoken gentlemen's agreement.

Phoenix was the first to be interviewed since he was out of his helmet and in an Azure Racing cap faster than the others. Our host, Thomas Stewart, now shoved a microphone in his face.

"Almost a second ahead of the rest of the grid! What a lap that was, Phoenix. How does it feel to be on pole for the first time in years?"

Phoenix ran a towel over his face, taking his time in thinking of the right response to that question. I knew he hated interviews more than anyone else in the paddock, but that's exactly why people loved hearing him. It was entertaining, and a pleasant change from the usual media-prepped talks from the other drivers.

The compilations of his interviews on YouTube were ridiculous.

"Fucking fantastic, I'd say." Phoenix grinned mischievously, the green in his eyes sparkling even through the camera as he glanced behind the rest of the crowd and toward the garage.

I shook my head with a laugh when he raised a brow at me, almost as if asking why I wasn't there to celebrate with him. Raising my finger to my ear, I then pointed it at him, telling him to listen to the reporter, who was waiting for a response to a question I hadn't heard above the noise.

"Sorry, I wasn't listening," Phoenix said while still staring at me before finally glancing back at Thomas. "You were saying?"

Thomas laughed before glancing in the direction Phoenix was looking at, which made me hide behind the pit wall like a coward. No need to be spotted.

"I was saying you had a phenomenal pace today. What have you done to the car to get there?"

Phoenix raised a brow while adjusting his cap with the red seven on it, and I couldn't help but notice just how different he was in front of the cameras after a race or qualifier. The adrenaline of the car was still written on his features and gave him a dangerous vibe, one that's more lively than anything else I'd seen in him yet.

"I haven't done anything." He sounded almost annoyed by this question before he nodded to my mechanics at the side of his car. "These guys and the rest of our mechanical crew did. I just execute what our head mechanic tells us to. She knows what she's doing, after all."

His gaze flicked to me for a split second, and I tried my hardest to hide how much his appearance fazed me right now. The sweaty, disheveled hair on his head, combined with the confidence radiating off of him even from a distance... It was disarming, and damn scary.

"Speaking of your head mechanic, Florence Nyx..." Oh, oh. "What is it like having a woman in the garage? Especially one that knows more about cars than you do."

What a dumb fucking question. Who'd ask that during the Quali interviews? Or even in general? Men were so weird.

"That's a really stupid question, Thomas, even for you." Phoenix spoke my mind.

My eyes widened as I stared at the scene, watching how multiple gasps erupted around parc fermé. Connor and Rafi held back their laughter as they coughed awkwardly, trying to stay out of camera sight. Impossible at an F1 paddock, but A for effort, huh?

It was unheard of to disrespect any interviewer, much less Thomas Stewart, who had been doing this job for a while now. The look on his face made him seem like a rookie, though.

"Do you have a reasonable question for me or am I allowed to leave?"

My jaw hit the ground from Phoenix's assertiveness. This was unusual behavior from him, but then again... All I'd seen was Phoenix almost scraping the top, being disappointed weekend after weekend. Who knew who he'd be when he was at his best?

All I knew was that this version of him blew my mind, and frankly, any resolve to take things slow with him.

"Um... Yes, of course." Thomas cleared his throat, obviously as stunned as the rest of the paddock was. "So, what's your plan for tomorrow's race, then?"

"Oh, that's easy..." Phoenix's response came without hesitation, his mouth twitching up to his familiar crooked smirk. "I win."

The adrenaline from yesterday's pole position hadn't worn off by the time I was back on the asphalt, leaning against the wall by the starting grid as I watched Florence work on my car. I'd always loved the Austrian track, but this year was different.

I could feel it in my bones, in the way the car reacted to me, and how my body responded to the high-speed corners.

Every inch of me was ready and sizzling with excitement from head to toe.

I would win this race. I knew it.

"Hold on to this, will you?" I gave Idir the piece of paper I'd hidden in my race suit, knowing it would be destroyed during the race, anyway.

"Uh... Okay?" He glanced at the note with a smirk, but made the smart decision to not say anything about it. "There's only ten minutes left before the race. What the hell is she still doing there?" he asked instead, slipping the note into his pocket before he raised an umbrella to shield us from the glaring sun. It was hot as all hell, and I clung to my water bottle like my life depended on it, knowing I had to stay hydrated as best as I could.

"No idea," I responded while opening the top of my collar, letting the air hit my skin. "She'll have her reasons, though."

Idir raised a brow at me. "That's a lot of trust coming from someone with a truckload of trust issues."

"And that's a lot of bullshit coming out of your mouth for someone who insists he's allergic to it."

"Brother..." He laughed. "What has gotten into you?"

I shrugged, taking a sip of my water just as Florence stood up straight, eyeing her work on my front wing with a smile. Watching her had been my greatest hobby in the past months; her entire being radiated joy and excitement when she had her hands on my car. I envied the damn thing.

Flo glanced at us, pride lingering on her features as she made her way over. Even after months of working with her, I had a hard time ignoring the way her body moved in those Azure Racing overalls that gave a shit ton of room for interpretation. My fingers itched to zip it open and explore what lay beneath it, to figure out what she deemed worthy to be inked on her body. The sight of her back still hadn't left my mind.

Florence had always had the majority of my curiosity and attention. But lately, I had little left between her and racing. It was all my life revolved around, and I didn't mind.

"Alright." She came to a stop in front of us, hands propped on her hips. "The sensors on the wing were off. At least that's what the computers said, so I replaced them and adjusted the wing to give you more downforce. Might just give you that little push."

I nodded, trying to reciprocate the smile on her lips. "Thank you. I'm sure it will."

She smirked before her gaze fell on Idir for a split second, and I practically heard the turmoil in her mind before she shook her head and stepped closer to me. I didn't miss the way her dark eyes roamed over my body, one hand raising and closing the velcro collar around my neck.

My breath hitched from the motion; from the familiarity of her faint touch and cinnamon scent. It took all of me not to grab her hand and take her far, far away from here, just to have her for myself.

"You'll win this," she said above the noise of the starting grid; noise that became nothing but radio silence compared to the sound of her voice. Her green-blue eyes sparkled when she gave my chest a final pat, a smile directed at the racing suit she'd fixed up before she met my gaze again. "Go and get them, Phoenix. It's time they see who you are."

Again, she blew my mind with the things she said. Florence saw right through me, past the facade I put on and the image people had of me. She knew who I was and what I was fighting for.

That, in and of itself, meant the world to me.

"I will," I finally responded, nodding.

"Good."

After shooting me another heart-melting smile, she turned and left the asphalt to make her way through the pit lane and toward our pit wall.

And as I watched her disappear into the safe space of our garage, I just knew...

I had to win.

And so, that's what I'd set my mind on. Still feeling Florence's fingers on my chest, I got into the rest of my attire; the fireproof balaclava and rainbow helmet now on my head as I got into my car.

I was ready. So damn ready.

The formation lap already gave a good preview of how great this race could be. It felt like I was finally one with the car, like it knew what I wanted, and listened to what I needed it to do.

With that excitement sparking in my veins, I stared at the red lights above the starting grid, watching them disappear one by one until they were all out. I pushed the gas pedal and moved over, instantly closing the gap Connor behind me would want to drive through. He expected that move and got out of the way, leaving him a few feet behind me as we reached the first corner of the track. I listened to Chris's advice and aimed for the apex, the ideal line of a corner, and thus managed to get a better exit than Connor, which left me with more speed to get further down the track.

Connor and I repeated the whole spiel for the next few laps, with me closing every gap he could even consider using, and pushing him out at the corners. All within legal limits, of course. I could defend my position aggressively without causing a collision.

Cause that's what a good race driver did.

Halfway through the race, I got fitted with a new set of tyres, the hard compound, which meant I was supposed to finish the race with these wheels.

"Alright, watch out at the pit exit. Connor is now at the last turn, six seconds behind you. Five seconds... Four seconds... Three—and you got him. Phenomenal job, Phoenix. Keep pushing, your out lap needs to be amazing to prevent an overcut from Connor or Rafael."

"Jojo, stop talking," I said while looking into the mirror, watching Connor's golden car disappear and reappear in every corner. "I got this. I know what I'm doing."

Chris's laughter erupted through the radio, and I rolled my eyes as I took turn after turn, expertly hitting the apex at each one. "I know you do, mate. Bring it home."

"I will if you stop talking. Can't wait for summer break to not hear your voice for a change," I quipped while racing down the straight at 200 miles per hour.

"Copy." A chuckle followed his response, but I welcomed the silence.

This was how I loved to race. By myself, for myself, hearing only myself.

Well, myself and this beast of a car. The engine roared around me as I finished the next forty laps, always focusing on tires while I defended against Connor, who stayed just two seconds behind me at all times. My pace was good, but not good enough to drive away from him. I had to block him a lot, which took a toll on my tires.

But fuck, was it fun seeing his car struggle so much for a change.

"You wanna go for fastest lap?" Chris's voice reappeared through my radio as I approached the last lap of the race, Connor now a little further behind me.

I grinned. "What a dumb question, Jojo."

"I figured. We got you on maximum power. Give it your all."

Exactly what I wanted to hear.

And with that, I raced with everything that I had. I could feel it in my bones, in the way Connor disappeared from my mirror... This was it. The perfect lap.

I crossed the finish line in record time, the checkered flag announcing my first victory this year. My heart pounded rapidly in my chest, the post-race adrenaline rushing through my nerves as I hit the steering wheel to celebrate this win with the car that gave it to me. The crowd cheered, large Azure Racing flags with the number 7 on it waving in the stands.

It was unreal.

Parc fermé was crowded with Azure Racing uniforms when I parked, the excitement of this win coursing not just through my veins, but through the entire paddock. Michael was the first one I spotted as I got out of the car, and he waved me over with this big goofy smile on his lips that instantly made me laugh out loud.

Good thing I still had that helmet on.

Connor was the one who got to me first, though, his shiny race suit suddenly appearing next to me.

"Congrats!" he yelled through the open visor of his helmet, hand stretched out to me. I shook his hand with a grin, patting his shoulder.

"Thanks. You tried!"

His laugh surprised me; not how I would've reacted in his position, to be honest. "Yeah, I did. That was good fun though."

I nodded, the two of us now interrupted by Rafael, who stretched his fist out to me. "Great race!"

The chanting of my team made it hard to hear what he said, and so I simply nodded once more before I turned to the Azure Racing folks at the barriers. As soon as I got close enough, Michael pulled me into the group, allowing them all to shove me around, slap my helmet, and yell all sorts of congratulations at me.

I soaked it all up; the victory that felt like it was the very first in my entire career now settling in my bones. It was different with this team that'd worked so damn hard to get us to where we were now, competing against the big guys after a few years of bad luck.

"Told you, you'd win." Her voice made me look up, and I spotted Florence standing right at the edge of the barrier, surrounded by her mechanics, who kept shoving her further to me.

"This is your win, too," I yelled, hoping she heard me between my helmet and the noise.

The grin on her lips told me she did, and her beauty was so dizzying that I wanted to rip my helmet off and kiss her senseless here and now, just to feel her at this moment. It's what would've made it perfect.

And somehow, it seemed like she knew what I was thinking, her eyes darkening dangerously as she studied my being. She then raised her palm and pressed an almost unnoticeable kiss on it before she gently patted my helmet where it hid my cheek, giving me a silent promise that this day wasn't over yet.

And damn, did I know that, too.

Because when I spotted Idir a few feet away from here, his grin bright as ever as he stretched his hand out to me, I knew this entire journey had just begun. I gave him a fist bump and retrieved the note he held onto for me before I gave it over to Florence.

Part of me knew she'd be here today, no matter if I'd won or not. Usually, she'd hide behind her mechanics, letting them take the spotlight rather than have it for herself. But I could feel it today. I could feel her presence here before the damn race had even started.

She studied me with a frown before taking the piece of paper from my hands, eyes narrowing as she read the words I had written on there earlier today.

I'll pick you up at 8 tonight. Wear what you want — I want you to feel as stunning as you are.
Thanks for the win.
xx Blueberry

Author's Note

Hey, folks!

I know it's been a while, nut I won't be repeating myself, lol. I'll be this busy until the beginning of February, so just bear with me.

I hope you're all hanging in there and find a way to get through the winter! It's a tough time for me usually, so if you don't hear from me, that's why.

Stay safe and healthy, and lots of love as always.

xx Jane