Love and Lies on the Grand Prix Circuit

I fell in love the moment I saw her. But my playboy reputation crossed the finish line before me.

She’s gorgeous. Smart. Sassy. An event planner fresh out of a brutal divorce.

Not looking for love—especially not with an F1 driver like me.

I “accidentally” bump into her at a gala just to get five seconds of her time.

I apologize for my “clumsiness” by offering dinner. One burger, and I’m completely spinning off the track.

She makes me laugh when I shouldn’t. Rolls her eyes when I flirt—and still blushes.

Keeps her guard up, but I see the hurt behind it.

When she won’t give me a shot. I shift gears. Hire her to plan my best friend’s wedding.

Supervised by me, of course and slowly, she lets down her guard.

Then a clickbait headline ruins everything.

Now I’m in her rearview, and she’s gone full throttle.

I’ll stop at nothing to catch her.

If I don’t, I’ll lose the only victory that ever really mattered.

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