Heat pounds against the pavement under a smoldering Melbourne sun. Using the back of my hand, I swipe at the beads of sweat against my forehead while trying to balance my drink, phone, and badge in the other. I'm not sure why I was convinced wearing a jacket in the middle of Australian summer is a good idea, but here I am, ready to sweat my entire weight off before I even make it to our seats. The FIA will have to weigh me after the race to ensure I haven't sweat all the water out of my system.

        "Wait!" Stacey calls out to me, causing me to turn around. She bends down and the crowd behind her parts like she's Moses. "My laces got untied. One sec."

        A group of fans walk past us with their F1 Paddock Club badges hanging around their necks and one of them attempts to sneak a picture of me, but they don't realize it's near impossible to accomplish at this point in my career successfully. At this point, I could start an Instagram account where I only post pictures I've snapped of fans trying to sneak ones of me.

        I glance down at my wrist to check the time. "Do you think we're cutting it close?"

        "It's almost an hour and a half until lights out," Hudson replies before taking a sip of his beer. It leaves a layer of foam on the edge of his mustache that he uses his hand to wipe away. "Bash said he was going to see you before the race started, yeah?"

        "Yeah," I sigh. "But it's been kind of a while. I'm sure he's super busy. I can just send him a text if I need to."

        Glancing around us, I don't see any of the drivers walking about. Most of them are probably trying to get in the zone or getting ready for the race, and I imagine that's what Brendon is doing, or should be, at least. If he doesn't make it out to see us before the race starts, I can't be mad. Starting the new F1 season at his home race means extra stress and excitement. Taking time to himself might be good. He deserves it if that's what he wants.

        Stacey jumps to her feet after she's done, and scrambles to catch up to us with a bucket of popcorn in her hands, the occasional stragglers falling to their demise. Once she catches up, I place my hand on her back and guide her between Hudson and me so we can keep an eye on her. The Windsor crew is familiar with her but I don't want her to get caught in the storm of a crowd.

        "Is Bash here yet?" she asks, looking up at me.

        I shake my head. "No, he might be too busy. Do you want to go up to our seats already? We can always walk back down if he calls."

        "Okay!" she exclaims before bouncing in the direction of the VIP seats above the garages. Knowing our luck, we'll see him hanging around there and have to just yell down to him before the drivers all head out.

        Hudson does his best to keep up with her, but he's much older than her so he has to dodge a few people to get to her. I shake my head with a laugh and start toward them, making it a few feet when I feel arms encircle around my waist.

        My mind goes into overdrive and I almost through my drink in his face but stop myself when I turn around and realize who it is.

        "You little shit."

        Brendon smiles down at me, and it takes genuine effort to not immediately admire the way he looks with his racing overalls tied around his waist, giving me a perfect view of the way his long-sleeved shirt hugs his body like a second skin. Something so simple shouldn't look so good, and yet here I am, still drooling over him after seeing it a handful of times up close before.

        (Get yourself together, Stevie. You have time after the race. And his sister is right there.)

        "Missed me?"

        "I was just thinking how much my feet are killing me. Would love to go sit down."

        Brendon smothers the lies out of me with a kiss, and I fall helplessly beneath his touch, so distracted by everything Brendon that I almost drop my drink onto the ground. "I missed you."

        "Ew, you must like me." He playfully glares. "Which is a good thing 'cause I like you too."

        "Like," he hums thoughtfully.

        Bringing my free hand up to rest behind his neck, I play with the ends of his recently cut hair. He pulls off the long style better than most, but I like this length the best. Makes it easy to see his beautiful face. I'm a sucker for that face, no matter how many times I get to see it. Whether it's in front of me or on a banner outside of a Grand Prix. Forget the maps; get lost in him.

        I press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Love," I correct.

        "Love what—"

        With a laugh, I shut him up with another kiss to the mouth this time. "I love you."

        "I like the sound of that better."

       "So needy," I joke.

        "Brendon!"

        Out of the blue, Stacey boomerangs back to us and wedges herself between us so she can wrap her arms around her brother. If Brendon's parents can't show up, I'm at least grateful they allowed his sister to come and see his race. It's been too long since the last time she saw one in person, and she's been enjoying herself this time around.

        "What did I tell you about making Hudson carry all of your stuff?" Brendon scolds.

        "Uh—" Stacey looks back and forth between the two of them. "To do exactly that?"

        "Oh. Right."

        Hudson shakes his head. "I could be getting munted in my bar and this is the thanks I get?"

        Brendon unwinds himself from his sister. "You've got the best seats on the whole track."

        "Doesn't come with an unlimited tap so—"

        Stacey whips around and lifts her finger in the air. "Shut it, mister."

        Hudson shuts it with a salute. "Aye, aye captain."

        "Tell Rix I'm throwing tomatoes at him if he beats you," his sister orders.

        To no one's surprise, the two Windsors have a front-row lockout. Also unsurprisingly, Brendon is sitting comfortably at P1 looking to repeat a home race win.

        "Wasn't planning on letting him," Brendon replies with a laugh. "But I'll let him know."

        "Thank you."

        Hudson braves the younger Ellis sibling, placing a hand on her shoulder. "'Kay, bud. Let's go find our seats."

        Stacey whines, "But he just got here."

        "He's got to get back and I think he wants a moment with Stev."

        "Fine." Stacey gives her brother a quick hug before looking me over. After she finally smiles, I release the tiny breath I'm holding. Just because she's one of MARS' biggest fans, doesn't mean I don't need to make sure I play it safe. Approval from the sister is always necessary. "He's still such a dork around you. See you in a bit."

        Once the two of them are gone, Brendon turns to me. "I think she's letting being your friend get to her head."

        "You mean to say me playing her a sneak peek to new music is giving her an ego?"

        "Yes." He tugs me closer to him by the hand. "Especially since you showed her one before me. She's never letting me live that down."

        I can't help but laugh. "Don't worry, you're getting all of the first sneak peeks from now on."

        "You say that as if Maverick isn't the first one to listen to every single song MARS puts out."

        "Look, the little guy's gotta be first for something and he's not doing that on his own."

        When he stares at me like he's doing now, it's easy to forget the rest of the world exists. The sun could be inches away from my face and I would still find myself staring straight into his eyes. And if the glitter of the galaxy were within reach, I would still be starstruck by him and him only. I'm not sure if I'll ever get used to this sight or the feeling settling in my chest. It's not even honeymoon stage butterflies; it's a perfectly content state of existence. A gradual, lifelong state of wonder and the world's greatest wonder is standing right in front of me.

        Even amidst the constantly moving world of high octane, champagne showers, and golden trophies, we find our center of the universe together. I never thought we would end up here, but someone once told me the best love stories are the ones we don't see coming. Every time I see him, I'm reminded of this.

        "How are you feeling?" I ask.

        "Good. Usual nerves but good. Always nice to be back home." He smooths out the lines on my forehead. The more time I spend at races, the more relaxed I feel in this environment, but it doesn't eliminate the concern over the safety of the drivers. There's always a risk. "How are you?"

        "Ready to see you at the finish line. P1, of course."

        "Of course," he laughs.

        Getting lost in each other would be too easy, so perhaps it's a good thing when we both turn our heads at the sound of someone calling for him. A Windsor employee, probably his new handler, waves frantically in the air, pointing at their watch.

        "Duty calls." I point with my chin. "Show them what you're made of."

        Before he leaves, our moment together slipping away as easily as a bottle of wine on a warm autumn night, he brushes his thumb along the side of my cheek. I sink into his touch, not quite ready to ever let him go as my grip on his waist tightens. I'm never ready to relinquish him to the rest of the world but that is the nature of letting someone as brilliant as him soar to new heights. My saving grace is knowing I'll always be right alongside him reaching for my own set of stars.

        "Thank you for being here," he says. "For always being here."

        I lean into him, not caring where in the world we are. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

        We are one small part of the universe, but the world around us captures our kiss like we're performers on a stage. Sometimes the spotlight is blinding enough I want to forget I even exist. And sometimes, I'm so hopelessly lost in space I don't even realize I'm under one. Though I'm aware of the cameras going off around us, not at all attempting to be sneaky about it this time, I can't find it in me to care. I grip either side of his face like he's the only thing keeping me grounded. And when he pulls away, I'm already counting down the minutes until he'll be back in my arms again.

        "See you on the other side," he says. Brendon takes three steps before coming back for another kiss, to which I have to shove him away with a laugh even though every inch of me begs otherwise. We can't have him missing lights out.

        "Oh, and Brendon?"

        He turns around at the sound of my voice. Whether it's a few feet or a thousand miles; we'll always find our way back to each other.

        "Try not to slip from first."