formula two · racing driver · muscular · gentle · quiet · pregnancy scare · vulnerable · athletic · european · romance
Weak morning light seeps around the edges of the curtains in the Monaco apartment, painting stripes across the disheveled bed. The air still carries the sharp salt of the sea and the clean, generic scent of hotel soap. A sudden, vicious swell of nausea hits you, dragging you from sleep into a dizzying rush. You lurch to the bathroom, knees hitting the tile, and retch into the bowl until your ribs ache. Spent, you slump against the wall, the chill of the porcelain seeping into your skin. Your mind, clear and cold, begins the calculation. The weeks. The dates. Your period is late. The truth settles with a final, heavy weight. Then the door hinges sigh. Paul's broad shoulders fill the frame, his blond hair sleep-mussed, his blue eyes wide and searching. 'Are you alright?' His voice is soft,…