Chapter Text
Chapter 2
James woke up like always. Got dressed like always. Grabbed his coffee like always.
Then he headed to the track.
That… was not like always.
He hopped on a train, answered a few emails—like always—but when the train rolled to a stop, the entire atmosphere shifted. He looked up, unplugged his headphones, tucked his laptop away, and stepped off.
Straight into chaos.
The track was louder, hotter, and more alive than he expected. People ran everywhere—some crowded around the cars, hands smeared with grease. Photographers swarmed like bees. Team managers paced under tents, already yelling into radios. The air buzzed with engine heat and impatience.
James took a breath.
Then he saw him.
Will Lenney. Or, as the public insisted on calling him: Willine.
James made his way toward him. Will was lounging in one of those director’s chairs that looked too expensive to be real. Instead of PRODUCER or DIRECTOR across the back, it just said WILLEN in bold white letters.
James rolled his eyes.
Up close, Will was… something else. Close to James’s age—maybe a little older, though it was hard to tell. A little shorter than James, brunette, pale, fit, and impossibly careful about himself. His F1 suit clung to him, showing the outline of his waist and the shape of someone who clearly spent a lot of time working out. His hair, despite the chaos of the track, looked perfect, and his posture radiated confidence.
He looked peaceful. Content. Almost too content.
And smug. God, so smug. The kind of guy who knew he was hot. Knew he could get away with anything. One of those annoying, charming, reckless types.
James stopped in front of him. Now or never.
“Excuse me—”
Will looked up slowly, dragging his gaze up James’s entire body with a half-smile.
“Love, how can I help you?”
James cleared his throat. “James marriott. I’m here to interview you. I’m doing the feature story on you.”
“Oh? James Are you now?” Will tilted his head, smiling with all teeth. “You’re much prettier than the picture I saw.”
“That’s because the person who was supposed to interview you quit.”
Will raised a brow. “Their loss. I’m very happy I got you instead.”
James stood straighter, trying not to react, but he could feel Will’s gaze lingering—warm, focused, impossible to ignore. Annoying. Especially because Will had a girlfriend. Not just any girlfriend—a model girlfriend. James knew that. And now he had to follow this man around for what? Nine months?
“Can I ask you some questions for the article?” he asked.
Will leaned back, sunglasses sliding down his nose. “Sure. But only if I can take you out for dinner.”
“James. No.”
“Mr. Willine—”
“Ugh, fine. You’re no fun,” Will groaned. “And don’t call me Willine. I hate that crap.”
“Oh? Why’s that?” James asked.
“Okay, so here’s how this is gonna go,” Will said, pointing at him. “You can ask me questions. But so can I.”
James blinked. “…What?”
“And I don’t like being called Willine,” Will went on. “It’s me, but also not? It’s… louder. Too loud. Too much. And I can’t have a hot guy calling me that.”
James froze a little at that, but before he could say anything, Will nodded toward the cup in James’s hand.
“That coffee you’ve got—what is that?”
James stared at him for a moment. Whatever this man was, he was something else.
“Uh… it’s just cold brew.”
“That’s it?” Will asked.
“Well—Cold Brew Oat Latte,” James clarified.
“See? That makes you more—”
“Will,” someone yelled over the radio. “You’ve gotta get onto the track. You need to be driving.”
Will sighed dramatically. “Well, James, duty calls. Hey—what do you say to dinner tonight?”
“Nope.”
Will pouted like a kicked puppy. “Fine.”
James escaped to the bleachers, opened his laptop, and started clearing out emails and researching for the article. The noise of the track faded into a steady background hum. He was halfway through his inbox when someone sat way too close.
James paused, looked up—
Will.
James looked him up and down once… then immediately looked away and scooted an inch over.
“Jamesss,” Will sang.
“Yes. What do you need?” James asked.
Nobody else was nearby.
As James looked around and realized they were completely alone, he muttered “shit” under his breath and started gathering his things.
Will watched him with that smug little smile.
“Sorry, I’m—uh—gonna be going now,” James said.
Will’s face fell, surprisingly genuine. “Why don’t we go out? We can at least get a drink.”
“I don’t drink,” James said.
“Why not—” Will caught himself. “Oh—sorry. That was rude. I didn’t mean—”
“Nah, you’re good,” James cut in. “I just… don’t like who I am when I drink.”
“Oh.” Will paused, then perked up. “Then how about food?”
James hesitated. Really hesitated. For a second he considered it.
But he shook his head. “No, I can’t. Plus, I’ll be here tomorrow.”
“You’re so boring,” Will sighed dramatically.
“Don’t you have a girlfriend to get back to?” James said, a little sharper than intended.
Will blinked. “What—are you jealous?”
James didn’t answer. He slung his bag over his shoulder and started walking.
“Nope. See you tomorrow