Could You Not Tease Me?

For a business event or a charity dinner, for Vann Winston, it's like drinking a cup of English tea with a bad taste. He can look polite in a gentleman's manner, but ignore everyone.

Ferrari's charity dinner can be described as a group of talents, bright lights, mouth-watering public relations managers and marketers who work between major sponsors and potential sponsors, and he is like the most delicate billboard.

Everyone wants something at this dinner.

Maybe it's concern, maybe it's money, maybe it's the network.

The woman's complaining voice sounded from behind Winston.

"Hunt ... why are you still playing with your phone?"

"Oh ... what should I do?"

The voice between the teenager and the youth sounded like a glass of water was suddenly handed over after being drunk, and the lemon aroma was smelled at the first glance.

"Go chat with those sponsors! Let them recognize you, maybe you can get more opportunities for advertising endorsements, depending on your income from the Marcus team ..."

"Hahaha ... I didn't even get points, who would give me the opportunity to endorse advertising?" Laughed the boy named Hunter.

His voice is casual, as if it is normal to never get points as a racer.

Not arrogant, with a touch of inexplicable calmness.

Winston clung to the wine and turned around.

The young man was wearing a somewhat unsuitable suit, and his dangling brown hair blocked his forehead, which made him look a bit childish compared to the man who combed his hair all over the entire banquet hall.

Winston can only see the tip of his nose from this angle, while his hands are holding the mobile phone, his fingers are moving quickly, that concentration, as if he is driving Formula 1. Winston turned his face to the side. He wanted to see the young man's expression clearly, but he never looked up.

"Then you can't just play mobile games like this! Socialize with other people! You're wasting a great opportunity!"

"Okay, okay ... tell me which driver you like? I'll take you over ... though I don't think any of them will talk to me."

"You ..." His female companion looked up, and then bumped his arm. "Hey! Hey! Fann Winston of the Ferrari team is watching you!"

"Huh?" Hunter still didn't look up. "Dear Miley, he must have seen you, not me."

Miley looked again and found that Winston's gaze had shifted elsewhere, listening to what the PR manager of the Ferrari team was saying. Everything just now is an illusion.

The dinner continued, listening to similar words and looking at similar expressions. Winston was already a little tired, but his face was still indifferent.

Keep alive.

The only difference was the young man who was playing with his mobile phone at the dining table.

He seemed to be out of this world.

What attracted him in the end?

Perhaps because it was really boring, Winston walked towards him, came to his side, and glanced at his mobile phone screen, which turned out to be a pleasure that was not of interest to middle school students.

And such a game, he played for more than an hour.

How can a person who is in love be addicted to such antique games so far?

Just as Winston was about to pass him by, a fire alarm sounded in the banquet hall.

Everyone looked up and remained quiet for less than a second, and someone shouted "Fire!"

The woman in the long skirt lifted the skirt, and the men threw down their wine glasses and rushed to the exit of the banquet hall.

"Don't crowd!"

Winston stopped and looked around subconsciously. He didn't see the smoke, and even the air was still the fragrance of champagne and red wine.

Reason told Winston that the fire alarm might have been accidentally triggered.

The exit has been blocked by panicked guests. Even if they used to squeeze in, they were prone to stampede accidents.

The young man intoxicated beside the game finally raised his head and looked at the fire alarm that was constantly flashing.

Winston finally saw his eyes clearly. They had naive outlines, and the posture of half-upward looking was like looking for something in the sky.

"Miley!"

Winston only felt that his hand was pulled by the other side, his hand was firmly held by the other side, and rushed towards the crowd.

"It's on fire! Let's run!"

The young men rushed forward desperately, and soon they were drowned.

Winston could obviously get rid of the other party, but when he felt the strength and temperature of the other's fingertips, he subconsciously tightened his fingers and clasped the other party.

He looked at Hunter's back. The young man could obviously get into the crowd but couldn't fully integrate into the crowd because he was pulling himself.

Just then, a woman's roar came from behind them: "Damn Evan Hunt-you left me alone and ran!"

It turns out your name is Evan Hunt.

Touching her lips, she consciously remembered the name under her heart.

"What?" The young man finally realized what, and turned his face in pain, seeing Miley looking angrily at two or three people apart.

She raised her hand and compared him with a clear middle finger.

Winston thought that Hunter would release himself, so he also released his fingers, but he pulled his force hand forward even harder, until his chest hit the opponent's body.

"Oh ..." Hunter's eyes widened. "I'm even dragging Vann Winston of the Ferrari team?"

Miley's yelling came through penetratingly: "Evan Hunt! I'm done with you! Completely done!"

Hunt sighed and murmured in a voice that was only readable by Winston, who was next to him: "It's as if we've started ..."

Winston wouldn't say apology, because it was Hunt, not him.

The guests all left, and Winston felt his wrists tighten, and the other party even held his hand.

Only this time, Hunter's footsteps were calmer.

Winston was then pulled out of the crowd.

The wind came up that night, and Hunter leaned on a street lamp to pull a cigarette out of his pocket. He held his lighter, his hair rising, as if narrowing Winston's eyes.

"You just knew you were pulling the wrong person, why didn't you let me go?"

Winston's voice was cold and transparent.

It took a while to sip the cigarette and Hunt closed his eyes and took a sip of pleasure, and then opened it again and looked in the direction of Winston.

His eyes were bright, giving Winston the illusion of burning the widest world with the tiniest force.

"Because Miley is already mad at me, I can only catch you for a long time, otherwise I will lose." He smiled and handed the cigarette in his hand, "Do you smoke?"

"Thank you, I don't have to."

"Do you know your voice is good? But it's like being bottled and locked up," Hunt said with a smile.

Winston didn't care about the other person's comments, but pointed to the position of the eyes.

"Your eyes are blue."

"Oh, you say this!" Hunter smiled heartlessly, leaning in the direction of Winston, with a sense of pride, "In the bathroom of the Spanish Grand Prix, my teammates stung . "

"Why would he hit you?"

"Because I didn't stop Penny, he wanted me to help him over the car."

"Are you penned by Penny?"

"Why am I trapped? Can't I drive in front of Penny?" Hunt looked dissatisfied.

"If you don't get trapped, it's even more unlikely that you can push your teammates. Because Penny is in front of you, you haven't passed him."

"Okay, okay ... the essence of Formula One is to surpass, even if my team is weak and my level is not good, my car is bad ... I don't want to overpower others, I want to go ahead of me Even if it's just one person, "Hunter smiled helplessly," isn't he naive? "

"will not."

"Van Winston is really a gentleman."

"Not because of my gentleman, but I think so too."

Just then, Assistant Winnie's voice sounded.

"Oh my God, you are here! Mr. Miller is looking for you!"

"Okay, here I am."

Winston looked back, but found that Hunter watched him step by step back, saying "goodbye".

After a few steps, he turned and left.

"Winston, were you chatting with that ... seems to be a driver too?" Annie asked in surprise.

"Well." Winston followed Anne back to the banquet hall.

Seeing Hunter again, it was in the next race, he chased all the way from the starting point in the middle and the back, taking sixth place.

That night, Winston looked back at the race in the room. He subconsciously paid attention to Marcus's car. Hunt's tangent and cornering were smooth and beautiful. Winston raised his hand to support his chin, subconsciously Open your eyes.

After watching a video of the entire game, Winston suddenly felt a bit hot and wanted to walk around the hotel.

As soon as he entered the lobby, Donald Sauber was smiling and chatting with his teammates.

"Hahaha! Hunter, that silly boy, I took him to the bar today, and he made a beautiful girl. As a result, the girl had a fierce suitor, and he was almost stung by others!"

"No, can't Hunter beat each other?"

"The opponent is a rugby player!"

"I wipe! He's really unlucky! Where is he now?"

"Smoking outside, hahaha!"

Winston walked past Donald and came outside the hotel.

The night breeze was cold. Winston thought he was just walking casually, but he found he could not restrain himself from looking for every faint red dot or every possible smoking figure in the dark.

Finally, on the steps in the shadow, he saw Hunt sitting there.

His back is not as strong and masculine as other riders, but he still has a little youthfulness.

"Your race is awesome." Winston came to sit next to Hunt.

"Really? Maybe I'll stop the next stop."

There was a self-deprecating smile in his voice.

"Will not."

After Hunter was quiet for more than ten seconds, he looked at Winston and said funnyly, "Hey ... this is how you comfort me, just not a word? Generally not the next time you are great, you will exceed Who, you will one day reach Irving and Shire levels? "

"I'm not sure who you can surpass, or whether I can reach Irving and Shire. I just don't think you will stop there." Winston's voice was calm.

This calmness calmed Hunter's mind.

"You don't look like someone who would comfort people," Hunt smiled. "Even if you come to talk to me, no one will believe it."

"Why do you think I won't talk to you?"

"Because you are already a first-class driver, enough talent to compete with Irving and Shire. And I am the tail of the crane, and occasionally rushed into the top six."

"Anything else?" Winston asked softly.

"And you are always cold. Do n’t let everyone approach me. You ca n’t walk into my field. Even sponsors worth billions or tens of billions of dollars can nod and pass. , Not to mention my nameless pawn? "Hunt seemed more happy.

"What about the other reasons?"

"The media said that you are a rare aristocratic gentleman in Formula 1. I am neither aristocratic nor gentlemanly. We are very different."

Hunt stopped for a few seconds, and Winston remained silent and didn't mean to speak.

"Hey ... shouldn't you say two sentences? For example ... I'm not what you think." Hunt tilted his head.

"I can't change the thought in your mind. When you understand, it will naturally change."

"Haha ..." Hunter laughed, and his soft forehead trembled softly in the night. "Do you say everything so slickly? If the female fans who adore you know that you are so dull and boring, they will not Fan you again. "

"You are not my female fan," Winston replied.

"Okay, okay ... smoking?" Hunt pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and handed it to Winston.

"Cigarettes, although refreshing, are not good for your lungs."

Hunter shook his head helplessly: "It really is. A self-disciplined guy like you must not smoke and drink, sleep at a fixed time, insist on exercising every morning, day after day, and arrange life to the second."

Hunt was about to take the cigarette back, but he didn't expect the other person to pick it up. And there was a lighter on Winston's body, and he lighted the cigarette lightly.

He just took a sip, and the gesture of smoking a ring of smoke was casually elegant.

"Ahhhh ... my cigarette is burned out like this ... I haven't smoked two!" Hunt regretfully threw the cigarette **** in the trash can and then clapped his hands.

Winston beside him looked quietly forward, with the cigarette between his knuckles.

Hunter laughed: "Forget it, if you don't smoke, don't force yourself, just give me."

"Well." Winston leaned over and handed the cigarette in the direction of Hunt.

At that moment, Hunter's hand propped on the steps, leaning in the direction of Winston, just as his hand holding the end of the cigarette was about to retract, his lips were up.

The illusion was that his lips seemed to touch Winston's fingertips, or he didn't, just because the temperature was too close to make him illusion.

His fingertips were burned, Winston stiffened, and felt the power to lightly push on the cigarette butt, and the moment the cigarette broke off Winston's finger, he subconsciously wanted to grab it, but He has straightened his back.

He squeezed his pockets and stood up with a smile.

"Hey, thanks. It's comfortable to be with you. You're not as cold and cold as those media and other drivers say."

Hunt turned and left.

Winston was still sitting there, unconsciously remembering the feeling of the cigarette leaving his finger ... He suddenly realized that it was the tip of Hunter's tongue.

Suddenly, the gentle heartbeat suddenly surged upward as if burned.

Winston took a breathless breath, stood up, and walked back to the hotel.

The next race will be more intense.

Winston and Penny faced each other, and the two were fiercely competitive.

What happened to Winston did not happen. Penny's car was out of control. His tail turned and he was about to hit the Winston's flank. Distance, he can't completely avoid it, even in an instant he calmly judges to minimize the damage.

At that time, another car caught up from behind, and the other side directly stood against Penny, and Winston passed smoothly.

Until his car had entered the next corner, Winston suddenly realized that the car belonged to the Marcus team ... and it was impossible to avoid Penny from the distance of the other party!

Deep in his mind, he seemed to be severely cut by a sharp blade, and the pain spread from his brain to his fingertips.

He still calmly judged, doing everything he could to adjust his breathing, and reached the finish line as fast as possible.

He surpassed Shire in the corner and began to chase wildly. He passed Irving in the hairpin corner and won the championship.

Ferrari manager Miller was trembling with joy.

"Great! Winston! You did a great job! This track has always been Irving's good at it, and you have surpassed him!"

"The car that stands against Penny ... who is driving?"

Winston's voice was gentle and cold in the ears of others, but only he knew how urgently he wanted that answer.

"Ah! Thanks for talking about it! Otherwise you won't win the championship!"

"You haven't told me who it is."

Winston clasped the steering wheel.

"It's Evan Hunt of the Marcus team. You're lucky, this young man has been chasing behind you. When Penny's brake pads are out of order, he just came up!"

"I'm not lucky. Has he been injured?"

His nerves were tight.

On the track, any bad accident can happen, and Winston has been prepared for this.

But at this moment, he was inexplicably afraid.

"No injuries. I also saw the young man climbing out of the car himself. The front suspension of his car was completely damaged, so he retired."

"I see, thanks."

After the match, media interviews made Winston extremely impatient for the first time. There was no trace of temperature in his eyes, and the answers to the media's questions were so concise that everyone in the room felt chill.

The media shrouded in inexplicable pressure ended the interview earlier than Mr. Miller had thought, and Winston got up and left quickly.

Even if Mr. Miller was screaming his name behind him, he would not listen.

As he left the taxi and was about to step into the hotel, he saw Hunter walking out of the small supermarket across the road carrying a cola bottle.

The young man didn't have any sorrowful expression on his face. He unscrewed the bottle cap, took a big sip, closed his eyes and took a snoring breath, exhaling comfortably.

He paused when he walked across the road and found Winston standing in front of him.

"Hey ... Winston."

The other smiled, and was about to walk past him, as if everything that happened on the track had nothing to do with him.

Winston didn't know why he was so impulsive. When he woke up, he had already pulled Hunter over.

"Hey! What are you doing!"

Hunt's back bumped into his arms, and Winston let go.

"Why did you do that during the race?"

"How do I do that?" Hunt looked unclear.

"Stop Penny for me." Winston's face didn't have any expression.

"Hey ... I'm chasing after you all ... I didn't control it all of a sudden ..."

"You can get behind Penny and me, but you can't control it?" Winston asked.

There was a strength in his voice that lifted all cover and overcame all excuses.

"I ... I only got lucky to catch up with that position, but my luck wasn't very good either. It happened that Penny's brake pads were broken ..."

Hunter smiled helplessly, his smile suddenly made Winston feel a little pain.

I don't know where it hurts.

"Is it honestly difficult for you?" Winston asked.

Hunt stood there, turned his face, and was silent.

After such silence lasted for more than ten seconds, the young man finally sighed.

"Okay ... I didn't expect that I would do that, but I was on top when I reacted. From the position, if you are flicked by Penny, you are very likely to be injured. . And I ... at most hanging up reimbursement, but the chance of accidents is not great. "

"I and you are not in a team," Winston began.

"I know, I know we are not a team. Maybe I am passionate about myself and thought that I had talked to you, even if there is friendship. You don't have to think so much ... continue to be Vann Winston and catch up with you The driver is just fine, why bother with what happened behind you? "

Hunter is leaving again.

Winston clasped him tightly again.

"We certainly have friendships."

"What? You and me ... have a relationship?" Hunt looked incredulous.

"We talked, didn't we?" Winston asked back.

"Of course ... but if you have talked to you, even if you have friendship?"

"Do you think I talked to many people?"

"should not."

"So talk to me, isn't it a relationship?"

"... Oh." Hunt scratched his ears with his fingers.

The author has something to say: salted egg time:

Hunter: Where did you learn your tricks for hooking me?

Winston: How did you get past me, I just came back in the same way.

Fat melon: So this time, how did Hunter unconsciously winch Winston in his life, and the sweetness is just right, he won't put glass **** in, big guys rest assured, hahaha