[b][center][h2]Joel Nicolosi[/h2][/center][/b]

Joel glanced down at his watch. They had a few hours until he’d have to be back. The first stage was an evening to night run out of town towards the mountains. They’d already done a shakedown test in the morning and carefully made the pacenotes for the section. Everything went fairly well with no real surprises and the car was in good form. The roads were just as beaten and winding as the mountain passes around Sol City, perhaps even more so; while the dusty terrain was noticeably faster than the tough, rocky grit of the Pacific Northwest putting more work on the brakes and requiring a little more finesse at the controls to find grip. They’d drawn a good number in the lottery so the car wouldn’t have to lead off nor would it have to deal with a degraded route from the other competitors. All of it washed together in his mind as he glanced out from their posh balcony suite. Sio was right, [i]he wanted to win[/i]. International press and nationalism aside, he was only concerned with how fast he could drive and if it would be enough- Nothing else mattered.  

Sio’s scantily clad approach caused an eyebrow to raise slightly from the side of his vision. “You're a real distraction,” He said with feigned seriousness accepting the small bottle. “I should have left you back in Sol.” He said as he rubbed the sunscreen into her skin pinching the top of her shoulders and pushing his thumbs into her back gently as he did. Her fair skin and blazing red hair stood out starkly in the Caribbean, which he liked. So far, she was [i]different[/i], though he knew the pitfalls of the expression. It was not often that he concentrated on anything other than how to plant four tires across a corner, but she had never tried to make it about anything else. She’d become an [i]addition[/i] rather than a distraction. He let his hands fall down around her hips and glanced out briefly towards the clear-blue ocean leaning over her shoulder. The beach did sound like a good idea for a while. It was a private and closely guarded property where prying eyes wouldn't be allowed to follow them. Still, he had a nagging bit of intuition and knew it wouldn’t go unnoticed by her strong sense of perception. “I keep getting the feeling like we’re being watched,” He said more as a point of curiosity rather than concern. “I’m not talkin’ about the cameras and what not, I don’t really mean stalker-level either, but you know what I mean.” 

[@Almalthia]