Leo had been intentionally ignoring Ava. He knew that they weren't officially a thing yet, but as his jaw clenched as he gripped the steering wheel tighter, the memory burned in his mind —her laughter, the way she leaned in just a little too close to that guy.
His knuckles turned white, a sharp ache spreading through his fingers. He had poured his heart out, rushing to see her—only to feel like garbage when he found her happier with a muscular stranger instead of waiting for him.
The memory made his stomach churn. Rather than confront her, he threw himself back into the party scene. He avoided alcohol close to race days, but the attention from other women became a convenient distraction.
For a while, it almost worked. He didn't even bother filtering what his publicist posted. He didn't care. He just slipped back into his old lifestyle —the one he knew before Ava. As Ferrari's latest star, all eyes were on him. The paparazzi had started calling him The Midnight Maverick for his late-night escapades.
Staying home wasn't an option. The moment he was alone, his fingers would itch to check his phone, to reread her messages, to hear her voice echoing in his head. The pull was unbearable—but so was the thought of forgiving her too easily.
The Montreal Grand Prix was just two days away. Today, he passed his health evaluation, and tomorrow was his debut qualifying session as a Ferrari driver. He needed to focus.
The test went well, and afterward, he pushed himself through a series of intense practice laps. A late lunch at a nearby café gave him a brief break, but even there, overzealous fans crowded around him, his bodyguard barely keeping them at bay.
That night, instead of heading to a club, Leo decided to visit his old coach, James Maddon. He arrived at the restaurant around 7 p.m. and spotted James already seated with two women.
"I didn't know we could bring dates—or dates," Leo smirked, shaking James's hand.
"Leo, my boy," James said with a grin. "These lovely ladies are here to entertain us tonight."
Leo slid into the booth between the two women, draping his arms casually around their shoulders. They laughed, and he laughed along, but his eyes kept drifting back to James as they caught up. James, now managing several young drivers, had even hired assistants to help him keep up with the pace. Then James mentioned' her'.
"Have you heard from Ava?" he asked casually.
Leo's smile faded. "Why do you ask?"
"She called me a few days ago. Asked about you." he said and sipped his drink.
Leo looked away, jaw tightening. "Let's not talk about her, man," he muttered, steering the conversation elsewhere. James bowed down. A few minutes later, he took the two women to the dance floor.
For the next hour, he danced, flirted, laughed—but none of it felt right. Eventually, he called his driver and slipped out early, heading back to his hotel in silence. Back in his room, he checked his phone. No new messages so far, but he scrolled through the old ones:
**Saturday, June 1st**
Ava: "Hey, are you okay? James just texted me that you couldn't make it to dinner last night because you got a spot with Ferrari. Congratulations! I'm so happy for you, Leo."
**Sunday, June 2nd**
Ava: "Hmm, maybe you 're busy, but call me back when you 're free, okay?"
**Monday, June 3rd**
2 missed calls from Ava.
**Tuesday, June 4th**
Ava: "Are you in Montreal already? Why haven't you replied or returned my calls?"
**Wednesday, June 5th**
Ava: Are you ghosting me, Leo?
**Thursday, June 6th**
Ava: Are you really ghosting me, Leo?
**Friday, June 7th**
*2 missed calls.*
Today, there were no calls or texts. He didn't know what to say to her. He didn't have the guts to stay mad at Ava. He missed her too much but his ego has prevented him from caring about any of this.
The next morning, the elimination rounds began around 2 p.m. As expected, Leo qualified in second place, behind the Mercedes driver. 'Tomorrow, I'm going to beat them,' he thought, heading back to his hotel to rest. He even turned down his crew 's invitation to go out. He couldn't afford to lose focus.
He went to bed early but dreamed of Ava handing him the Grand Prix trophy, only for her to disappear as he reached for it. He woke up startled, then fell back asleep.
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Race Day
At 7:00 a.m., Leo woke up in his suite at the Ritz-Carlton Montreal, shaking off the pre-race nerves. His body was sore from qualifying, but his mind was sharp. By 7:30 a.m., he was having a light breakfast: oatmeal, eggs, and a protein smoothie. He avoided anything heavy. His team texted him about last-minute strategy discussions.
After freshening up, he gathered his team for a quick briefing at 8:00 a.m. At the circuit, he reviewed the track temperature, tire degradation predictions, and race strategy with his engineers. His biggest rival today was Andrew Antonio, a Mercedes driver known for his aggressive overtakes.
At 10:00 a.m., after some light stretching and reaction training, Ferrari put him through a brief media session. When asked about his chances, he smirked: "It's going to be a tough race, but I love a good fight."
By 11:00 a.m., he was suited up, helmet on, gloves tight. He headed to the grid. This was it. The engines roared as the five red lights illuminated. He started in P2, between Mercedes and a Red Bull. Leo got a strong launch, passing the Red Bull into Turn 1, but Mercedes held P1. The track was tight, bumpy, and unforgiving. Leo stayed within DRS range of the Mercedes but didn't push too hard, saving his tires.
In Lap 15, he radioed his team: "Rear tires are getting hot, but I'm managing." The pit wall replied: "Mercedes is on a two-stop. We might go long."
Leo pitted on Lap 23, switching to hard tires, and rejoined in P5. Mercedes pitted two laps later and came out just ahead. In Lap 35, Leo attempted a move at the final chicane but backed off—too risky.
"I need more power, guys," he said.
His engineer replied: "It'll come to you. Keep pushing."
By Lap 45, the gap was 1.2 seconds. Lap 52. Leo lunged, diving into Turn 1. For a moment, they were side by side, tires inches apart—but the Mercedes squeezed him out, forcing him onto the curb. He cursed, backing off. By Lap 60, he spotted his chance. The Mercedes wobbled slightly, rear tires screaming for grip.
On Lap 65, Leo saw his chance. In the Wall of Champions chicane, the Mercedes locked up, barely avoiding the barrier. "He's losing grip! Go for it, Leo!" his engineer urged.
On Lap 67, Leo dove down the inside at Turn 10 and took P1. The Mercedes tried to fight back, but on Lap 69, his rear left tire blew up! Leo kept it clean, crossing the line first on the final lap.
He screamed into the radio: "LET'S GOOOOO!"
He had won the Montreal Grand Prix 2024!
After the race, Champagne sprayed on the podium. His team lifted him up in celebration. He stepped onto the top step, shaking hands with the Aston Martin and Mercedes drivers. He grabbed the trophy and screamed, "Ferrari!" as his team roared. But despite the victory, he felt a hollow emptiness inside.
When asked about the final battle, Leo grinned: "I knew he was struggling. I just waited, and when the moment came—I took it." In the heat of the moment, he kissed a random woman on the podium.
A HUGE mistake.
As he looked up, he saw Ava in the crowd, pale and disappointed. She disappeared into the sea of people. He handed his trophy to his crew and chased after her.
"Ava? Ava! STOP!" he shouted, finally catching up to her about ten feet away. She turned to him, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
Her voice trembled. "I came to surprise you, but it turns out I'm the one who's surprised."
He ran a hand through his hair. "You moved on first."
Ava's breath hitched, her voice rising with disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about?" Her hands balled into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms.
"You didn't wait for me!" he shot back. "You were with him… hurm … that guy!"
Ava clenched her fists. "I waited for you for three hours Leo. And what guy? Oh, that guy? He's my client, Leo."
Leo faltered. "You two looked close."
"I rejected him." she admitted.
Leo's breath hitched. "You rejected him? Why?"
"Because it turns out I like someone who bluntly ignored me the whole week." She looked at him.
He stared at her, searching her eyes for the truth. Then, without warning, he pulled her close and kissed her— deep, desperate, and full of longing. "I'm so sorry, Ava," he whispered, cupping her face. "I'm sorry I assumed wrong of you. Please forgive me." He kissed her again, but she pulled back, breathless, eyes searching his.
"You can't just kiss me and expect everything to be fine, Leo." Then she continued asking "You really think I'd do that to you? That everything we shared during Lake Como meant nothing?" she asked.
"It meant everything to me, you meant everything to me." he said, holding her hands. "It's the best thing that's happened to me—well, after winning Monaco and Montreal. But yes, I really head over heels for you, Ava."
"Then never assume. Ask me. I'll tell you the truth," Ava said, tightening her grip on his hands.
"Come," Leo said, putting an arm around her shoulders. "I'll introduce you to my Ferrari team." He led her to the after-party at Ferrari's office, where his team cheered for his victory. He gave a short speech, thanking everyone for their support, and raised a toast. They mingled for an hour or two before heading back to his hotel.
The suite was steeped in silence, the distant murmur of the city filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The crisp scent of his cologne still lingered in the air, mingling with the faint traces of Ava's perfume. Leo leaned against the doorframe, his racing suit unzipped to his waist, revealing a thin layer of white inner drenched in sweat still clinging to his skin.
The tension between them was palpable. "I'll take the couch," Leo offered, his voice low but firm. "You take the bed."
Ava turned slightly, her eyes narrowing. "Don't be ridiculous. You just won a race. You deserve the bed."
Leo smirked. "And you deserve to be comfortable. I'm not arguing about this."
Ava rolled her eyes but didn't push further. She slipped into the bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. Leo sighed, grabbing a pillow and blanket before settling onto the couch. But sleep didn't come for either of them.
After what felt like hours, Leo couldn't pretend to sleep anymore. The silence of the hotel room buzzed in his ears, louder than the noise inside his head. Regret gnawed at him, but pride kept him rooted in place—until he heard the soft slide of the balcony door.
His heart kicked up. He sat up, watching the dim outline of her figure slip outside. Ava stood by the balcony, her silhouette framed by the moonlight, her designer robe loosely tied. The robe clung to her, the breeze catching the ends of her hair like it wanted to play too.
He cursed under his breath. He'd told himself to keep his distance, to stay casual. But seeing her like that —alone, fragile, beautiful—it broke something in him. Quietly, he slipped out of bed and padded toward her.
The air was cool against his bare chest, but he barely noticed. He stopped just behind her, hesitating for a beat before reaching out and placing his hands on her shoulders. Her body tensed, and for a split second, he thought she might pull away. But then… she didn't.
"You should be sleeping," she said softly, her voice barely more than a breath.
"So should you," he murmured, leaning closer. His lips brushed the curve of her neck. She shivered. He felt it—under his fingertips, in the way she leaned back into him.
His hands slid slowly down her arms, tracing the soft lines of her skin like a man trying to remember a dream. She turned, facing him. Their eyes locked. No masks. No bravado. Just two people caught between hurt and want. Her fingers reached up, gently grazing his jaw. Then she kissed him. It was tender at first—testing, searching—but it didn't stay that way.
His arms wrapped around her as the kiss deepened, mouths colliding with all the frustration and longing they'd tried to bury. Her robe loosened under his touch, and when it fell open, he swore under his breath. His lips moved down her neck, her collarbone.
Her skin tasted like warmth and temptation. She gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair as he explored, his tongue teasing spots that made her tremble. Every sound she made wound him tighter. Then his fingers found her center—and she moaned. He almost lost it.
He wanted to take his time, memorize every reaction, every shift of her breath. But Ava had other plans. With a sudden confidence, she pushed him back, her hands sliding to the waistband of his shorts. When she freed him and took him into her mouth, he groaned her name, eyes slamming shut.
His hands gripped the balcony railing, hard. She was ruining him. And when she looked up at him, lips wrapped around him, eyes dark with desire—he forgot how to breathe.
He pulled her up, claiming her mouth again. This time, it was raw. Desperate. He guided her back inside, the bed waiting like destiny. He laid her down gently, hovering above her for a breathless second before giving in. His fingers slid back inside her, and she gasped, her body arching. 'God, she was perfect'.
Every movement, every sound. But Ava wasn't just lying there—she was matching him. Her hands slid down his body, bold and sure, and when she stroked him, he nearly lost it again. She took him in her mouth once more, and he trembled. She was going to wreck him—and he'd let her. "Fuck," he whispered, pulling her up and kissing her hard. No more games. No more control.
He positioned himself between her legs, and when their eyes met, there was no turning back. Their bodies moved in sync, frantic, hungry. All the unspoken words poured out through touch, through moans, through the way she clung to him like she didn't want to let go. He kissed every inch of her, worshipping her like she was the only thing grounding him.
When they finally came together, it was explosive— blinding. He groaned her name against her skin, and she held him like she'd been waiting forever.
Afterward, they lay tangled in the sheets, skin still buzzing. Leo brushed a strand of hair from her face, his chest still heaving. "I'm sorry for ghosting you," he whispered. The words felt too small for everything he meant.
Ava smiled faintly, her fingers drawing lazy circles on his chest. "I'm sorry for making you doubt yourself ."
He hesitated, then grinned. "So… how about that second date?"
She laughed softly. "As long as you don't stand me up again."
He smirked, kissed her forehead, and pulled her closer. Lying there with her, heart still racing, Leo knew one thing for sure. He was falling for her. Hard.