Drive me Wild, Rival(BL)

Chapter 131: Mon chéri vs Princess(2)

Nico

​The race was the best I had ever had since we started, and it was because Alaric was trying pretty hard, like hard, to win against me.

He was driving with this fierce, reckless desperation that left me breathless behind the wheel, and I couldn’t help but wonder if his reasons for wanting to win so badly were related to what I had sent him.

​If that was the reason, it just made the race hotter.

​We were close to the final lap now, and he was leading. It wasn’t because I wanted him to, or because I was letting him, but because this was all him.

This was the king of the grid I had always admired before the accident happened. This was the boy I had been looking up to even as a child, the unreachable prodigy, and I couldn’t help but smile as he remained a few seconds in front of me, his Ferrari tearing through the corners of the Suzuka Circuit like a flash of scarlet.

​"Nico, you’re within DRS range of de Villier," my lead engineer’s voice suddenly crackled sharply through my earpiece, breaking the roaring rhythm of my engine. "Push now, Nico! You need to make the move on the inside of Turn Eleven. We need this win for the championship points!"

​"I can’t," I lied slowly, my voice calm and completely steady despite the immense G-force pulling at my body as I handled the steering wheel. "My wrist... it’s still hurting from the vibrations on the curbs. I can’t force the overtake safely."

​Deep inside, though, I knew the truth. My wrist was fine. I just wanted to see him take it. I knew Alaric was going to win, and I wanted to witness him reclaim his throne with my own eyes.

​This time, it was all him and not me.

​When we finally crossed the finish line, passing beneath the black-and-white checkered flag waving from the gantry, I glanced down at my steering wheel dashboard to see the final timings. We were just apart with less than ten seconds between us. Alaric had taken the victory.

​"P2, Nico. P2," my engineer shouted into the radio, his tone laced with heavy frustration and disbelief. "That is the second time in a row that Alaric has won against you this season. Where was your head at during that final sector? We had the pace to catch him!"

​"Relax," I responded over the radio, letting out a soft chuckle as I began the cool-down lap, letting the car slow down as the massive Japanese crowd roared from the grandstands. "We can’t always be winners. He drove a perfect race and I could not have overtaken him."

"I don’t think the agency will think like that," my engineer responded but I said nothing else.

​As our cars coasted along the track side by side for the traditional post-race lap, I steered slightly closer to Alaric’s Ferrari. I turned my head toward him, raising my gloved hand to give him a prominent thumbs-up.

Through his dark visor, I couldn’t see his eyes, but I grinned widely inside my own helmet. I couldn’t help but wonder if his desperation to win today had everything to do with me and the bet I had dangled in front of him. I was desperate to find out what his question would be or what he would make me do.

​An hour later, all the racers headed to the media pen for an interview. As soon as we arrived there, microphones were shoved into our faces the second we stepped out of the garages.

Flashbulbs went off in blinding succession, reflecting off the metal barriers as the press swarmed us.

​"Alaric! Over here!" a reporter called out, turning the camera toward him. "You’ve completely turned the game around this season, taking the first position from Nico two times in a row now. What changed?"

​Before Alaric could even answer, another journalist turned to me, the lens swinging sharply toward my face. "Nico, does this consecutive loss make you feel vulnerable on the grid? Is the dominant Park era coming to an end?"

​I just laughed it off, flashing a completely relaxed, charming smile at the cameras as if I hadn’t just lost a major race. "Vulnerable? Not at all," I said smoothly, leaning my hip against the media board. "Everything that happened out there today was simply because my shoulder was hurting a bit. Our rivalry is still very much on, trust me. I just decided to be a gentleman and let my princess have his moment at the top today."

​Alaric’s head snapped toward me, his jaw tightening as a faint flush hit his cheeks. He let out a dry, mocking laugh, rolling his eyes directly at the media crew before training his dark, piercing gaze right back on me.

​"Don’t listen to him," Alaric responded, his voice dripping with amusement and sharp irritation. "And don’t worry, mon chéri, your shoulder won’t save you from getting beaten a third time next week."

​"Is that a promise, de Villier?" I countered immediately, stepping closer into his space right in front of the flashing cameras.

I lowered my voice just enough to hit the microphones, letting my smile turn deliberately wicked. "Because if you’re going to keep chasing me down like this every single weekend, people are going to start talking. Don’t use your car just to get close to me."

​Alaric scoffed, his chest rising as he took a sharp breath, his fingers tightening around his cap. "The only place I want you is behind me, Park. Where you belong."

I chuckled because I had interpreted that wrongly and when Alaric realized what he had said, his frown deepened.

​"Sexy," I mouthed silently, completely ignoring the cameras as I held his gaze and gave him a slow, deliberate wink.

​He raised the corner of his lips in pure disgust and scoffed, turning his face away with a sharp jerk of his chin, though the subtle darkening of the flush on his neck didn’t escape me at all.