Chapter 5
MONTE CARLO, MONACO
T here was something so soothing and innately beautiful about Indy’s aura. About the golden energy she emanated.
When Miles crossed the threshold to his flat, the smell of cinnamon filled his nostrils and opened his appetite. Music was playing from the stereo, but not loud enough to conceal Indy’s soft voice as she sang to the lyrics while sitting at the central island, her attention zeroed in on her laptop.
Seeing her at first made his heart jump a beat because he still wasn’t used to her presence.
She had cleaned the penthouse, including washing the dishes he had left in the sink last night with the intention of doing them in the morning. Procrastination had overpowered his senses, and Miles had decided to go on a run instead of cleaning his mess. Indy didn’t need to clean up after him, but he wasn’t even surprised by her kindness—even after the way he’d treated her.
With her chin in the palm of her hand, she glanced at Miles as he took off his shoes before he strode towards her.
“Morning, stud,” she chirped.
Stud? Even though Indy had accepted the fact they wouldn’t sleep together anymore, she wasn’t afraid to show how much she was attracted to him. And listening to her flirtatious tone, seeing the salacious glint in her eyes, always made his control rattle.
“Hey.” He jerked his chin towards the kitchen. “Are you baking cinnamon rolls?”
“Yes, chef.”
Had she remembered they were his favourite baked goods? After an intense, rough, intimate moment in his hotel room a few months ago, he’d mentioned craving a cinnamon roll. She’d told him hers were excellent, and Miles had made her promise to make some for him one day. The only way to convince her had been to give her another orgasm. The girl knew how to bargain.
A hint of a smirk ghosted over his lips. “Are they for me?”
The scoff she emitted made him narrow his gaze. “They are, first and foremost, for my own pleasure but I guess I can share them with my rude roommate.”
Offended, he parted his mouth to argue. “I’m not rude.”
“I beg to differ,” she huffed, diverting her attention to her laptop before sighing and locking her gaze back to his. He didn’t like the way her features hardened into annoyance, into vexation. “You know what? You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to treat me like shit just because Kai told you to stay away, or whatever bullshit he put inside your head. Just because we aren’t fucking anymore doesn’t give you the right to be like this.”
“Indy—”
“I’m not done,” she snapped. He widened his eyes and nodded frantically. “You like to be cold and arrogant and untouchable when you’re racing. But you’ve never acted this way with me before, and I don’t understand why it’s changed. Why do you suddenly hate me?”
She had a point, and he felt terrible for the pain he’d caused. He was used to distancing himself from people, but his thoughts had kept him awake last night. Indy had always been nothing but good to him, so he needed to start giving her equal goodness. But what if he got too attached? She was bound to leave—sooner or later. “I don’t hate you,” he murmured. “I could never, Indy. I’m sorry. I truly am. You know I’ll make it up to you.”
After holding his gaze for a few beats, she looked away. “I’m holding you to that, Huxley.”
He simply didn’t know how to act around her. They’d gone from secretly meeting after races to hook up, to living in the same penthouse. All he knew was that he was constantly a blushing mess around her, and that he needed to get a grip if he was supposed to see her every single day.
“I think I just need a bit of time to adjust to this new lifestyle. Going from Kai to you as a housemate is different.” Kai was loud, she wasn’t. He was organised in a way, and she was a beautiful tornado crushing everything in her path.
A small smile pulled at the corner of her lips. “I promise my company is fun.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He scratched the stubble across his jaw. “Can we call it a truce? Start over?”
Her eyes shone. Hope. Relief. “I’d like that.”
Extending his hand, he couldn’t deny the sparks jolting through his veins when her palm connected with his. “Friends?”
“Friends.”
“Cool.” He cleared his throat, fighting a smile. “Cool.”
After downing a glass of water and not-so-discreetly observing Indy type on her keyboard, he went to the balcony. He enjoyed stretching over there just to revel in the view of the ocean, listen to the peacefulness on the coast, and watch people walk on the shore.
But it was Indy’s hypnotising voice that lured him back in. Made his world spiral as she softly hummed to the tune echoing through the entire penthouse. She was the embodiment of sunshine—a light slipping through the cracks of brokenness and loneliness, rendering a once dark world entirely colourful.
Shit .
He needed to erase those thoughts from his mind. Needed to focus.
“What kind of music do you listen to?”
He pivoted, brows raised caused by her genuine intrigue, then slowly made his way towards her before taking a seat on a stool. It was an effort not to let his thigh touch hers.Not to leave lingering caresses dancing across her skin the way he used to love doing after making her reach the pinnacle of pleasure.
“Huxley.” She snapped her fingers, the insolence in her demeanour making his irritation spark. “Are you going to keep staring at me or answer my question?”
“I’m still deciding,” he answered tersely. “You’re not too bad to look at.”
“Is this how you flirt? Because it was terrible,” she scoffed. “You can call me beautiful. Gorgeous. Sexy, even. No need to be shy with me.”
Certainly, she was all three. Indigo was breathtaking beyond measure—the entire world was aware of that—but she’d ruin him to ashes.
“Friends don’t flirt, Indy.”
She had the nerve to roll her eyes. “Right. My apologies.”
“Apology accepted. Here.” He offered the earbud he had taken out before entering the flat, holding her gaze when she plucked it into her ear.
“Classical music?” Brows lifting, sheer surprise drew onto her expression.
“It’s my favourite after a run.”
“That’s funny. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a classical music kind of guy.”
He shrugged as he went through his numerous playlists, selecting the one with more upbeat rhythms. “I listen to everything. Even audiobooks.”
Her eyes snapped to him, curiosity dancing around the edges of her pupils. “What kind of audiobooks?”
“You know, about mental health and such.”
She snorted softly. “Sounds like you.”
It was no secret that Miles was an advocate for mental health. He spoke freely about it, wasn’t afraid to show that high-performance athletes needed to take care of their health—both mental and physical.
He nodded, noticing the glass filled with a green beverage and ice cubes. Grabbing it, he asked, “What’s this?”
“Iced matcha latte. Try it.”
He obliged, but the regret was so instant that he grunted. Indy’s laugh was akin to flowers blooming in the spring, to a ray of golden sunlight after spending an entire day in the pouring rain. The grimace he made must have been funny enough to laugh so heartily. He pushed the glass towards her before shaking his head.
“This is disgusting.”
Taking a sip after him, Miles couldn’t help but watch her full lips wrap around the straw, the tip of her tongue making a brief appearance to collect a stray drop. “The first time’s usually hard, but you get used to it. It’s really good for your health.”
“No thank you. I’ll stick to protein shakes.” His gaze slid towards her laptop. Next to it lay a notebook on which she had scribbled information about the Saudi Arabian track—where the first Grand Prix of the season would take place next month. “What are you working on?”
“I have my first day of work on Monday. Just checking my schedule, going over what I’ll have to do before we travel for the pre-season testings, doing some research. All that stuff, you know.”
Miles knew she would have done it. Secretly, he’d smiled and felt a flare of pride warm his chest when he had learned she was going to be one of the lead presenters this upcoming season.
She’d worked hard—harder than anyone he knew—and it was evident her efforts had paid off.
His lips broke into a minuscule smile before he asked, “Are you nervous?”
“About my new job?”
He nodded. Making conversation with her had always been effortless. There was just something about her that encouraged him to be himself.It had been a while since he’d felt this way, but he refused to linger on the thought.
“Yeah, I am.”
The waver in her voice and the slight tremble in her fingers didn’t go unnoticed. He frowned, taking out his earbud and repeating the motion with hers. He remembered Kai telling him about Indy’s anxiety caused by certain insecurities. That statement had piqued Miles’ curiosity—what was she hiding beneath the golden girl surface?
“You’re going to do great. So many people are rooting for you and are excited to see you on the screen and in the paddock. This is huge for you.”
Her smile was drop-dead gorgeous. He was thankful for sitting down already, otherwise he would have fallen to the ground—plummeted into an abyss of foolishness. “I’ve always dreamed of this.”
“I know.” He winked. “I’m truly happy for you.”
“Thanks.” The tint of pink staining her cheekbones deepened. “I’m going out tonight by the way. A friend’s in town.”
“Yeah? Do I know her?”
“ His name is Alex. And you do know him. He’s Tito’s best friend. The photographer.”
How was he supposed to conceal his irritation? “You’re going out with Alex Myers?”
Miles didn’t share any animosity towards Alex. He genuinely seemed like a great guy, always smiling and creating beautiful content for Thiago. He shared some kind of similar vibes to Indy’s—bright, fun, positive. Maybe that sudden wave of protectiveness crashed over him because he’d promised Kai he would look after her. Or maybe because imagining another man’s hands on her made?—
If she was concerned by his sudden frustration, she didn’t let on. “Got a problem with that?”
Those cerulean irises dropped to his jaw that had just twitched. “Nope. I’m going to be busy the entire day, anyway.”
“Are you going somewhere?”
“My sim room. Need to train.” Irritation streamed through his veins as he shut down. The thought of being abandoned because Indy was going out tonight only brought his walls up.
Her gaze softened. “You never stop.” It wasn’t a question, just a simple statement without any hint of judgement.
“I can’t stop if I want to keep on being the best.” She scoffed amusedly at his remark, but he continued, “And my father’s also in town so I’m going to invite him over for pizza, or something.”
Her brows shot upwards. “Oh, Henry’s in town? Good thing I’m going to be out then. I wouldn’t want to be a burden to you two. But Diana would have loved to be here.”
“First off, Dad would love to see you. And don’t call yourself a burden because you’re not and never will be. Second of all, why are we mentioning your grumpy friend?”
Diana was a friend of Indy’s whom he had met a couple of times. She was pretty but had an attitude as fiery as her copper hair.
“She’s got a crush on Henry,” Indy casually explained.
A grunt vibrated in the back of his throat as he frowned deeply. “Why?”
“He’s a DILF.”
She’d said it with such nonchalance that he reared back. “Don’t—seriously?”
“He’s tall, handsome, in seriously good shape, and he looks like Henry Cavill. See? They even have the same name.”
He shook his head. “That’s disturbing.”
Indy nudged his thigh with her knee before hopping off the stool as the oven’s timer went off. “If it’s any consolation, you do look like your father.”
“I feel so much better,” he deadpanned, forcing himself not to stare at her bare legs and her tiny shorts.
She smiled brightly. “Good.”
Debating if this conversation was now over as she was too focused on her freshly baked cinnamon rolls, Miles went to seek some quiet time on the balcony. But something was twisting inside his chest—something he couldn’t name or describe but made him voice his thoughts without so much as thinking.
“Are you planning on coming home with Alex?” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling an unsolicited heat.
“No.” She pivoted to face him, arching an eyebrow before scanning his entire body. “Unless you want me to bring him back? You know I struggle to be quiet. I wouldn’t want to disturb your sleep.”
Anger flared through him, but he scoffed. She was toeing a dangerous line—again—by hinting what he was missing out by cutting off their deal. “I’d rather you brought no man up here.”
“What about a woman?”
She’s good.
Fuck.
“Don’t test my patience.”
The fucking audacity she had to smile innocently up at him. “As long as you don’t bring your special friends up here either, we’ll be fine.”
“I don’t bring anyone up here.”
“Ever?” The fact that she sounded surprised was baffling. Indy was well aware that Miles didn’t hook up with anyone else. They’d had that conversation once before he took her rough and hard in a hotel room after a party.
“Ever. You’re the only woman I’ve invited to my home.”
Though the mischief shimmering in her eyes was noticeable, he didn’t miss the flicker of relief and tenderness. “I’m honoured.”
“Yeah, you should be.” He turned on his heel and went outside, not realising he’d been holding his breath until now.
The sound of heels tapping on the floorboards followed the ding of the lift.
Miles observed Indy stroll inside the penthouse, pushing her coat off her slender shoulders, revealing a satin top with a plunging décolleté.
God fucking spare him. She was so effortlessly stunning that, sometimes, it hurt to look at her.
“Oh, you’re sweet,” she crooned as she spotted him lounging on the sofa with Rosie at his feet. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”
“I wasn’t.” He grabbed the remote and shut off the television. “You really think the world revolves around you.”
“It does,” she scoffed. “Have you looked at me?”
He had, and she was absolutely gorgeous. Devastating. No wonder why so many men were at her feet everywhere she went. A beautiful woman? That was tempting. But a beautiful woman who loved cars and worked in motorsports? There was nothing sexier to him.
When he didn’t react to her smug remark, she laughed. “Is Daddy Huxley still here?”
Miles rubbed his face and stood up. “Don’t call him that again. And no, he left a couple of minutes ago.”
He was on the cusp of telling her that Henry had loved her cinnamon rolls and helped himself to seconds, but this would only inflate her ego. She embodied arrogance and insolence, yet in a very graceful manner that tended to make his irritation prickle.
She had left a note atop the dish before leaving: For the Huxley men. Bon appétit xx. Of course, they were delicious. Indy was a godsend, and he’d realised he didn’t regret having her around.
Her red-painted lips twisted into a pout. “I’m gutted that I missed him. Is he coming by any time soon?”
“He’s going back to London in the morning. But you’ll see him around the paddock. He’s attending every race, or so.”
The glow of tenderness in her eyes made his heart race. “He’s such a great father. I love how supportive he is.”
Miles smiled. He had a soft spot for very few people, and his father was at the top of the list. “He’s the best. Zach is an amazing one, too.”
“My dad is great, yes, but you’re just saying that because he used to be your favourite F1 driver back in the days.”
He admired Zachary Bailey a lot. Had so much respect for him that most times he couldn’t grasp the fact that he was his best friend’s dad. Zach had taught him a lot about racing, and even to this day, he was his mentor and a trustworthy man he could rely on.
“Doesn’t change the fact that I still think he’s good to you and Kai.” When she only shrugged, he asked, “Did you have a good date?”
“It wasn’t a date.” She hung her coat in the closet by the entrance. “Thiago was there, then Cal”—Thiago’s physio—“joined us, too.”
“Ah.”
Burying his hands in the pockets of his joggers, he almost chuckled when she found support on his shoulder to unstrap her stiletto. The heat of her small hand burned through the fabric of his t-shirt, her intoxicating smell rendering his knees weaker than they’d ever been. But it was the sheer proximity that almost obliterated him.
He should have stepped back, should have pried her hand off of him, but all he did was smirk as she shifted to the other foot to take off the shoe.
“Did he kiss you good night?”
The heat of her fingers lingered on his skin. “Again, it wasn’t a date. Even if it was, do you kiss on the first date, Golden Boy?”
His gaze flicked from her enticing mouth to her bright sapphire eyes. The moment his right hand left the warmth of his pocket, he pulled Indy in by the waist, her body taut against his. Her eyes were wide with surprise as they flickered back and forth between his, her hand slipping to his chest. Whispering, his stare dropped to her lips. “I don’t date, Daisy.”
If she was affected by the nickname he’d given her—the one he liked to call her by since the day they met when she wore a daisy crown atop her head—she didn’t show it. If she was affected by his previous action, she sure as hell didn’t show it either.
Travelling her fingertips down his torso, she studied his expression like she was trying to solve an enigma. But all he could think about was how wild his pulse was until she stepped back. “Right.” Pivoting, she went for her bedroom, making sure to sway her hips and give him a full view of those legs and that perfect backside. With one hand holding her shoes, she used the other one to bid him farewell. “Sweet dreams.”
His heart was still hammering—the cause of his recklessness—but Miles watched as she halted before the spare room to which he had left the door open. She peered inside, frowning before looking over at him.
“Huxley…”
“Indigo,” he deadpanned. “What?”
“You set up all my pottery and painting equipment in here?” He had to blink to make sure she wasn’t teary-eyed. Had to take a step closer to hear her frail voice. “Are you serious?”
With his father, they had spent the entire evening moving out the junk boxes into the garage downstairs before setting up the room for Indy. Earlier when he’d seen how stressed she seemed to be for her new job, he simply knew that painting would help her relax and soothe her nerves. Miles hadn’t been entirely sure how to set everything up, but they had unpacked it all and moved the desk so it would be facing the window. If she wanted, she could use the space to set up her laptop and microphone to host her podcast. They had also installed a reading chair and a couple of blankets in case she wanted to take all her romance novels in here. Miles had made a mental note to order a shelf if she was planning on having her entire book collection shipped to Monaco.
“You’re welcome,” he said gruffly.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Indigo was all bravado, confidence, and sarcasm, but she was also someone who cared about the people surrounding her and took care of them. Miles thought she wasn’t used to receiving freely, to be taken care of, so perhaps that was why gratitude was shining in her eyes at that moment.
He smiled, feeling like his heart was about to lodge inside his throat. “It’s my apology gift to you. Part of it.”
All glimmers of tenderness faded away. “There’s more?”
“I’m full of surprises.”