Page 58 of Formula Fling

“That doesn’t sound too stressful. What about qualifying? I understand that it’s basically to get your starting place on the grid, but I’m not sure how it’s done. Do you all just go out and run balls to the wall and whoever is the fastest starts first?”

I can’t help but chuckle. “If only it were that easy, but qualifying is a process. You know that there are three rounds, right?”

She nods against my chest. “Q1, Q2 and Q3.”

“The first round, the five slowest drivers are eliminated.”

“Do you go out individually?”

“No. It’s an open session in Q1, meaning all drivers get eighteen minutes to set our fastest lap. Not all drivers will go out immediately as we’ll strategize best options, depending on traffic and track conditions.”

“Sounds like timing is everything.”

“Exactly. You don’t want to get caught behind someone slower because it can ruin your lap. But you also don’t want to be out there too early when the track conditions might not be optimal. The team monitors everything in real time, so there’s a lot of strategy involved.”

“And Q2?” she inquires.

“Same thing. Five more drivers eliminated, but now you have fifteen minutes to get your fastest lap. Except there’s a twist,” I say, my tone sly. “They instituted a new rule this year that the ten drivers who make it to Q3 must start the race on the tires they set their fastest lap on in Q2.”

“Wait! What?” she asks, her head popping up and eyebrows furrowed. “That’s very confusing. And what tires do they use in Q3? I don’t understand.”

I laugh softly and pull her head close, shifting my body so she’s sprawled across my chest, my fingertips stroking her soft locks. “Enough lessons for tonight. It’s getting late and I’ve got an early day tomorrow.”

Posey immediately settles, her body going heavy. “Okay. But you need to teach me more about qualifying before Saturday rolls around.”

“Deal,” I promise, twisting my neck to press a kiss to her forehead.

She’s silent a moment, then says, “It’s all so intense. I can’t imagine the pressure of knowing that one mistake could cost you everything.”

“Happens all the time.” God knows it’s happened to me on more than one occasion. “But that’s what makes it fun. The adrenaline, the split-second decisions… that’s what I live for.”

“I’m nervous for you,” she whispers, her breath fanning over my chest. “I know it’s ridiculous because you’ve done this a million times, but… I guess now that things between us have changed, I feel more… invested.”

“Don’t worry about me,” I reassure her, my arm tightening around her waist. “I’ve been doing this a long time, and I know how to handle myself out there. But I have to admit… it’s nice having someone worrying about me other than my parents. Knowing I’ve got you in my corner feels… right.”

She sighs. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No.” I wrap both my arms around her. “You being here… it matters. More than anything.”

“It matters to me too,” she says sleepily and those words… the things they do to me.

Posey falls asleep and I listen to her steady breathing for a while before I finally drift off into a perfectly contented slumber.

CHAPTER 20

Posey

God, my handsare sweating and my stomach is in knots, and all I can think is that I’m not sure I’ll bear up under this pressure of caring for an FI driver.

Lex made it through Q1 and Q2 to advance to Q3, which just started.

The top ten fastest cars, twelve minutes to set the fastest lap.

I’m planted in a section of the paddock, very near the pit wall. I had been so eager to see the paddock because watching on TV doesn’t do it justice. It’s considered the heart of the racing world during a Global Prix weekend where the teams, drivers, media, sponsors and invited guests gather in a temporary city of motorhomes and hospitality suites. It sits directly behind the team’s garage, and on the second floor over said garage is the paddock club.

It’s an exclusive, VIP area where celebrities, sponsors and other important guests can watch not only the action below in the pit lane but on the track’s main straightaway. It’s where Harley has me parked, standing on an outdoor balcony to watch this last round of qualifying.

If I bend over the rail and look down, I can see the pit area where drivers come in for their astonishingly fast tire changes. These are done in two to three seconds, much faster than stock car racing as there is no refueling in Formula International.

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