Chasing Daisy Read Online Free PDF Page A

anything to drink?’ I ask.
    ‘An orange juice, thanks.
    ’ I pass him a glass, my hand shaking ever so slightly.
    He grins and nods at it. ‘Is that a result of your scooter accident or alcohol withdrawal?’
    Actually it’s because I’m so nervous about being this close to you. But I lie and tell him it’s probably alcohol related.
    ‘You should have come out with us!’ Holly gushes.
    ‘Nah,’ he replies.
    ‘Too dedicated.’ I smile at him warmly. I can see Holly out of the corner of my eye and just know she’s on the brink of cracking up.
    He raises his eyebrows in amusement and backs away, holding up his bowl of muesli and glass of juice. ‘Better get this down me. See you later.’
    ‘Absolutely.’ I beam at him.
    ‘Way too OTT, Daisy!’ Holly exclaims when he’s gone.
    ‘Was not,’ I grumble.
    The hospitality area is situated directly behind the team garages, otherwise known as the pits, so later, when qualifying is already in full swing, Frederick allows us time out to go and take a look.
    The garage is a hive of activity. Mechanics in black, white and gold overalls are swarming all over Luis’s car. I think I can spot Dan hovering over the front wing, but it’s hard to tell. All the mechanics have to wear protective clothing from head to toe, so you can barely tell one from the other. But Dan sees me watching him and gives me a wave, before busily getting back to work.
    Will is out on the track at the moment, so we stand at the back of his garage and watch from every angle as six television screens broadcast the action.
    ‘Hey!’
    I glance up to see a big, tall mechanic looking down at me. He’s wearing a helmet so I peer into it and realise it’s Pete. He’s the chief mechanic on Will’s car.
    ‘How’s it going?’ I shout over the thunderous noise of the cars zooming down the straight on the other side of the pit wall.
    ‘Great guns!’ he shouts back. ‘WHOA!’
    His exclamation is mirrored by several other mechanics watching the TV screens. I glance up to see Will has taken first place, known in the industry as pole position.
    ‘Cool!’ I shout.
    ‘Got a little way to go yet,’ he shouts back, then to the lads, ‘He’s coming in!’
    They all swarm outside to the pit lane.
    As Will pulls up, Luis’s car zooms out of the garage next to us.
    The on-car camera is riding with Luis, and we watch as he speeds around the corners, car bumping over the kerbs as he takes the fastest racing line.
    Usually the drivers stay inside their cars for the duration of qualifying and watch the on-track action on a television stationed above their heads, but today Pete asks Will to climb out so they can make some adjustments. I stop watching Luis’s lap for the moment to focus on him. He takes off his helmet, a navy blue and silver design, and then tugs off his fireproof balaclava. His blond hair is damp with sweat, and as he pushes it back off his face, I’m hit by an image of him in bed with me.
    I shake my head involuntarily and force my gaze back up to the screens. Luis’s helmet is bright green, and I have to admit it does stand out, gaudy though it is.
    I feel someone’s presence beside me and turn to see Will standing there. Warmth radiates from him and the arm of his overall brushes against my elbow, freezing me to the spot. I watch him out of the corner of my eye as he studies the TV screens. His jaw is rigid with tension, then he seems to relax. I look back up and notice Luis is currently in fifth place on the grid, but the positions are changing all the time, and suddenly another driver takes pole position.
    ‘We should go back,’ Holly says.
    Will glances down and acknowledges us with a nod, before checking the screens again to see he’s currently in third place for the start tomorrow.
    ‘Will!’ one of the mechanics calls.
    ‘Daisy . . .’ Holly urges as I distractedly watch Will return to his car and pull on his helmet before climbing back in. ‘Frederick won’t let us