At Full Sprint (A BBW Shifter Romance) (Last of the Shapeshifters) Read Free Page A

proven wrong, no matter how lurid the details. It was as good a guess as any that he simply wasn’t interested in women, not that there was any indication he swung the other way, either.
    “Pay attention!” Ms. Jennings snapped, dragging Circe from her reverie by the scruff of her neck. “See how the tires have darkened?”
    Circe nodded. “Yes.”
    “That’s because the rubber is warming, starting to soften.”
    Circe looked up at the sky, saw the burning sun overhead. It was a hot day in Melbourne, the start of the new Formula One season, and she had scored the equivalent of journalism pole position.
    “The race is close to starting,” her boss told her. “They’ll lap one more time, and then take their positions. So we’re watching the final warm-up lap right now. Look at the way Cheat pushes his car right up to the tail of Michael Hamilton’s. Do you see that? What do you make of that?”
    “Flirting?” Circe offered, but instantly regretted the poor attempt at humor. After seeing the look on Ms. Jennings’ face, she replied in proper. “Um, intimidation. He’s trying to intimidate Hamilton because that’s his biggest threat to the drivers’ championship.”
    “Both right and wrong,” she said. “Right in that Cheat is trying to get in Hamilton’s head. It’s a bit of cocky showmanship. Wrong in even thinking that Hamilton poses any threat.”
    “Last season Hamilton finished in second place.”
    “And by how many points?” her boss countered. “Cheat Cohen finished first in all but one race. Nobody could catch him. There was no threat.”
    Circe thought back to the research she’d done on the season before, but couldn’t remember when Cheat had finished second. But she didn’t dare ask Ms. Jennings that one.
    “Everything the drivers do before the actual race,” her boss continued, “is more important than you think. What you are watching right now is character politics. Look at the way Sebastian Keitel has overtaken, even though he’s not supposed to during the warm-up period. Watch how Danny Webber is already taking his corners too sharp. The edges of his tires are touching grass. Watch each and every one of them! If you want a future at Speed , and if you want to cover Formula One, the most prestigious racing to cover – yes, more prestigious than Le Mans – then make sure you pay attention! Journalism is more than just the words, Ms. Cole. Journalism is understanding the nuance.”
    Circe turned her eyes toward the track, and saw that the cars had finished their warm-up, and were all moving into their starting positions. That was when she noticed that Miles ‘Cheat’ Cohen was at the very back of the pack.
    “Why is Cheat Cohen all the way at the end?” she asked. “Didn’t he qualify?”
    “Cheat will be starting last in every race this year. He deliberately throws qualifying.”
    “Why?” Circe asked, and her boss laughed.
    “Why else? The challenge.”
    Circe groaned. “Men.”
    “Well, this one is special, Circe. You watch. There’s more to him than simply being a man. I don’t know what it is, but I intend to find out when I interview him this evening.”
    Circe nodded. All around her people fell silent as the starting lights flashed their first double-red orbs. A series of five pairs of lights lit up in sequence, one second after the last, and when all five pairs were shining crimson, there was a short pause before they would wink out, and the race would start.
    One… two… three… the lights dropped. The bulbs went black. The cars screamed.
    Plumes of smoke were kicked up by twenty-two quadruplets of rubber tires. The entire seating area, opposite to where the checkered flag would be waved was choked in the white, foul-smelling gaseous secretions, and Circe coughed and spluttered, looking toward Ms. Jennings, who seemed to be holding her breath.
    The cars were off like lightning, with Hamilton’s pole position streaking out ahead, and the rest of the pack