Drive me Wild, Rival(BL)

Alaric

Second place.

After Q3 ended and the final whistle blew, I finished qualifying in second place, right behind Nico.

"P2, Alaric," my engineer’s voice sounded through my earpiece. "Nico managed to snatch first position again, but you have locked down the front row for tomorrow, and that is already better than the opening race where you came in sixth place. You did well."

I said nothing and just stared at the steering wheel display, my chest heaving heavily as the engine heat radiated through my fire suit.

Second place.

That was an upgrade, but seeing Nico Park sitting right above me on the leaderboard made my jaw tighten.

I did not want him above me.

Not here on the track, and definitely not in the bedroom.

Through the tinted visor of my helmet, I looked across the pit lane toward the scales where we had to get weighed.

Nico was already stepping out of his Red Bull, unclipping his HANS device. He did not look back at the track, and he did not look at me either. He simply pulled off his gloves with a frustratingly calm composure that made me frown before heading toward the media pens after getting weighed. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

After I finished getting weighed, I also headed toward the media pen.

It was already chaotic before I even reached it, cameras flashing everywhere, microphones being shoved around, and reporters shouting over one another.

Because Nico had taken pole and I had secured second place, we were immediately shoved onto the small stage for the post-qualifying interviews.

I stood there with my cap pulled low, trying to look anywhere but at him.

Nico stood right beside me, looking entirely too relaxed for someone who had just survived a high-speed shootout against concrete walls.

"Congratulations to both of you on an incredible front-row lockout for tomorrow!" the interviewer, one of Sky Sports’ popular presenters, beamed into the microphone with a sharp smile before turning toward me. "Alaric, that was a fantastic lap out there. You were setting purple sectors throughout the second stint, but you just missed out on the top spot by less than a tenth of a second. How are you feeling about the car?"

"The car felt great," I answered, keeping my voice clipped and professional. "The team did an amazing job getting the setup right for the night temperatures. It is a shame about the gap to P1, but tomorrow is a long race, and we have strong pace."

"A shame indeed," Nico chimed in, leaning casually toward the interviewer’s microphone with a smirk dancing on his lips. "But do not worry. Our little princess here did a very brave job trying to catch up."

Did he just call me a princess?

What the hell?

The interviewer let out a startled laugh.

My jaw clamped tightly, and I felt blood rushing to my ears, the heat of annoyance burning beneath my skin. I glared at him, completely abandoning the professional media face I was supposed to maintain.

Did he think he was the only one capable of coming up with nicknames?

Even I could do that, and there was absolutely no way I was going to get humiliated in front of the entire world.

"Watch it, mon chéri," I shot back coldly. "One lock-up from you tomorrow, and I am taking the inside line before Turn 1."

Nico gritted his teeth as he looked at me, but he immediately forced himself to smile again.

The reporter’s eyes widened, absolutely loving the drama.

"Oh, wow! Princess versus mon chéri? Have we entered a completely new era of rivalry between you two?"

Nico only chuckled, completely unbothered by my glare. He shifted slightly, brushing his shoulder against mine as he looked back at the reporter.

"Well, what can I say?" he said lazily. "We have gotten a bit close lately. We are at the stage where we can call each other cute names now."

The corner of my lips twitched for a moment before my heart suddenly started pounding hard as the memory of the living room flashed through my head again.

I swallowed harshly, my knuckles turning white around my helmet.

The absolute nerve of this bastard.

He was standing here playing games on live television while fully aware of exactly what he was doing to my head.

"The rivalry tension between you two is absolutely insane. It is something Formula One has honestly been missing," the interviewer laughed as she adjusted her notes while glancing toward the cameras. "The fans are losing their minds on social media already, and honestly, we are all counting down the hours until those lights go out tomorrow."

She stepped closer, holding the microphone between the two of us.

"So let us talk about tomorrow. Everyone wants to know. Alaric, are you going to win this race?"

"Yes," I snapped immediately before looking directly into the camera lens, channeling every ounce of fury and frustration boiling inside me. "I am going to do absolutely everything to win tomorrow. Everything."

The interviewer smiled before turning toward Nico.

"What about you? Would you lose your winning streak tomorrow?"

Nico did not even blink.

He simply tilted his head slightly, his eyes locking onto mine with a dark, confident intensity that sent a familiar, infuriating chill racing down my spine.

"He can try," Nico murmured, his voice smooth as he completely commanded the space between us.

Then he looked back at the reporter with a devastatingly calm smile.

"But this track is mine. It always will be, no matter what."

He grinned wickedly as his eyes met mine again.

"The first position will always be mine," he said slowly.

The way he said it, the pure condescension dripping from his tone, made me clench my fists so tightly that my wrists began to ache.

Then Nico blinked at me.

And somehow, that was all it took for my fists to loosen again.

My heart started pounding wildly in my chest.

Just what the hell was this stupid feeling?

"There you have it, everyone. Nico Park and Alaric De Villiers returning tomorrow for another incredible race. Look forward to it and—"

The rest of the interviewer’s words faded completely.

My heartbeat thundered loudly in my chest as Nico’s eyes remained fixed on me for several long seconds.

Neither of us looked away.

It felt as though we were the only two people standing there instead of thousands of flashing cameras surrounding us.

Then Dami shouted my name, breaking the tension between us.