Chapter 7
MONTE CARLO, MONACO
I ndy tried to focus on five things surrounding her to ground herself and not let her thoughts destroy her. The feeling of the cold breeze brushing against her temple. The specific, salty scent of the ocean. The sound of waves gently collidingwith each other. The?—
“You’re a dog-sitter, too, now?”
Startled by the deep voice, she opened her eyes and scowled at Thiago as he strode towards her, brown hair blown away from his forehead, a thick jumper hugging his torso and a smile growing on his lips. The sudden urge to claw at her tight throat vanished, and she inwardly thanked the universe for sending her friend to her rescue.
Was he…moving in slow motion? Under the setting sun of Monaco? This was utterly ridiculous.
“You scared the crap out of me,” she huffed, leaning back in her seat, her hands buried in the pockets of her coat.
He stared amusedly down at her. “What were you even doing?”
“Breathing.”
Thiago snorted before taking a seat next to her. “Thank fuck for that. Didn’t want to give you CPR, or something.”
“You’re such a good friend, Tito,” Indy deadpanned, eyeing him up and down. He had the audacity to mock her with a loud snicker.
“Thiago,” a voice scolded from behind. “Stop bothering her.”
Indy turned just in time as Kamari reached the bench they were sitting on, a thick scarf wrapped around her neck.
“Thankfully, your girlfriend is always here to defend me,” Indy teased.
“She’s so sexy when her claws come out.” Thiago grinned as Kamari took the seat on Indy’s other side.
Kamari glared at her boyfriend. “Now’s not the time to hit on me, pretty boy.”
He sighed, his smile widening. “God, I’m so in love with you, it’s unbelievable.”
“Ugh,” Indy groaned, pushing Thiago away when he reached across the bench to caress Kamari’s flaming cheekbone. “You two make me sick.”
Truth was, Indy was undeniably enamoured by the innate love they had for each other. He was warmth whilst she was coldness, yet they were a perfect fit.
“Oh, come on. You already know you’ll be our maid of honour if we ever get married.”
“I better be,” Indy chastised. “You would have never met without me.”
“True,” Kamari chimed. “And we’re always so grateful for you. Now, are you going to tell us why you’re wallowing alone on the beach?”
“Can’t a pretty blonde enjoy the sunset with her dog and take a few moments to do her breathing exercises?”
“Isn’t it Huxley’s dog?” Kamari asked, looking where Rosie was playing near the water, tail wagging happily.
“Same thing.” Indy whistled, and Rosie jogged towards the trio. She cutely barked at the sight of Indy’s friends before sniffing them, then went to sit at Indy’s feet, making herself comfortable as she watched the ocean reflecting the orange sky’s colours. “She loves me. Might as well become my pup.”
“How’s living with Miles going, by the way?”
“Definitely better than the first couple of days. He avoided me for an entire week before coming out of his shell. I feel like he’s still trying to warm up to my presence, but I’m scared he’s going to close himself off again when he comes back from London.”
“Maybe he’s just trying to get used to the fact you’re living under the same roof,” Kamari said as though it was the most evident fact. “Or maybe he wants you and doesn’t know how to act around you.”
Miles had, in fact, told her last week that he was still trying to adjust to her presence. Indy had realised during these lonely days that she had wormed herself into his quiet and peace, and she needed to give him credit for his efforts.
“Don’t give me hope, Kam. When he acts all broody and mysterious, not to mention when he walks around shirtless, I just want to bang his brains out.”
“Jesus Christ,” Thiago mumbled. “This situation is not too uncomfortable for you, right?”
Indy shrugged. “Not really. He’s taking me in and doing it all for Kai, but I want him to do it without thinking of his best friend. Without feeling like he’s forced to talk to me.”
“Is your brother protective of you?”
Indy’s chest warmed at the thought of Kai. The love she had for her brother was incomparable. He’d take a bullet for her, and she’d tear herself apart to see him happy. As teenagers, they only had each other. Their parents were set on letting them learn the value and life, never allowing them to use their privilege of being “rich kids” to succeed. Kai was undoubtedly her favourite person in the universe.
“Yes,” Indy answered. “But in a deep brotherly love kind of way. I’m not sure how he’d react if he knew I was into Huxley, though, but at the end of the day, he simply wants me to be happy.”
Miles had always been her brother’s best friend. And he’d always seen her as Kai’s annoying little sister. Until that one night where everything changed; the night he won the Driver’s Championship and finally made a move after years of secret glances and limited interactions.
Though Indy was only three years younger than Miles and Malakai, Malakai had always made sure to include Indy if they were to hang out all together. Younger Miles used to be quite awkward around her, but he’d always been very nice. She’d watched him grow into this confident, courageous, handsome man he was today.
What hurt the most, though, was to embed inside her head that she would never feel his touch again. That he was adamant on staying friends. There was nothing wrong with that, but sometimes she wished they could have been mature enough to find closure for their previous relationship.
“Anyway,” Indy continued. “My main focus has to be my career. I’m not going to let that man ruin this for me. He wants to strut out there wearing nothing but boxer briefs with ‘friends’ written all over his abs and ‘Kai’s best mate’ on his ass?"—Thiago laughed at that—“Well, be my guest, Miles Huxley. Not going to complain. But it’s not like there’s deep feelings involved. Just mutual attraction.” Though her tone stayed steady, she wondered if one day she’d find a man who would look at her as though she was his entire world. “But I get on my knees for no man, and I cry for no man. He’ll open up to me if he trusts me enough. Maybe he can just fuck me into oblivion until I meet my future husband. That’s a good deal to me.”
Her friends chuckled at her comment, but that weight weaving through her chest didn’t go unnoticed. Indy had to repeat to herself that Miles wasn’t the ultimate goal. That she hadn’t moved into his home to bed him or build a romantic relationship. The thought certainly obliterated a folded corner of her heart, though she wouldn’t let the foolish pain be too overpowering.
“No, seriously,” said Thiago, pushing the travel mug he’d been holding into her hands. Just like that, her thoughts drifted to this moment she was sharing with her friends. “Take this, and tell me why you interrupted us. I was about to take Kam against the window when she spotted you and said you were more important than a fucking orgasm. Still made her come before we ran downstairs, though, because what the fuck was she thinking?”
“Not my fault if your girlfriend chooses me over your small dick.”
Thiago snickered. “It’s anything but small, Indy. Kam can confirm.”
She shoved him away. “Please, shut up. I’m sorry for being an inconvenience but knowing Kam, she’ll make it up to you. Just close your curtains.”
Kamari huffed. “I genuinely hate you two.”
“You love us,” Indy and Thiago jested.
Glancing down at the steaming beverage she was holding, she smiled at the sight of hot chocolate. By the scent itself, she knew it was Kamari’s recipe, and it was her all-time favourite comfort drink.
“I took the time to brew you some hot cocoa,” her friend murmured softly. “You looked like you needed one.”
“Thank you.” Indy sighed deeply. As the sound filled with dismay echoed, Rosie lifted her head, cocking it in concern. All Indy did was scratch the spot between her ears before taking a small sip of the delicious drink. “I’m terrified, guys.”
“Ah, shit,” Thiago whispered, exchanging a glance with his girlfriend. “Indigo Bailey isn't afraid of anything or anyone.”
“Well, breaking news, she is.”
Kamari’s voice caressed the shell of her ear, as soothing as the sound of the water crawling to the shore. “What happened to the fearless Indy who made me run through these very streets to hop on a boat and sneak into a party? What happened to the Indy who doesn’t care what the media says about her when she leaves an event early to go clubbing?”
“She vanished.”
“Shit,” Thiago repeated. “This is serious.”
Kamari twisted, a deep furrow of her brows perceptible. “Who do you need me to talk to? Is it the people at work? Is it those who critiqued your most recent podcast?”
She blew a raspberry, focusing on the heat seeping from the mug to her palms. “What if I mess up during my first interview? What if I suddenly stutter, or something? Maybe they’ll fire me because I’m not good enough for this job?—”
“Hey,” Kamari coaxed gently. “I know this is scary, and I know you’re working with people who’ve been in the job for several years, but that doesn’t mean they’re better than you. That doesn’t mean they can’t learn from you. Absolutely does not mean you’re less professional or smart or capable than any of them. You were born for this, Ind. Motorsports is your thing. You live for the cameras and being under the spotlight. You’ve worked so hard to get the job.”
“But—”
“You will do great,” Thiago continued with the same delicate tone. “You can’t let those fears control you now. You have to step in the paddock and prove to everyone this job was meant for you, and that no one can do it the way Indigo Bailey does.”
“Fuck,” she whispered, her eyes burning. “You’re right. I have something in my eye.”
“A grain of sand?” Thiago snorted.
Indy sniffed, and took a sip of her hot cocoa. “Yes.”
“It’s okay if you cry. You have a big heart, and we know you care so much about making a good impression. Trust me, we can’t wait to have you interview us in the paddock.”
The pride rushing through her veins made her feel alive. Reminded her why she’d gone through so much to attain her goals. “And I’m beautiful.”
“Gorgeous,” Kamari emphasised.
“Kind.”
“The absolute kindest.”
“And I deserve this.”
“More than anyone.”
Thiago gently squeezed her shoulder. “Indigo Bailey bows for no one.”
“Damn right, she doesn’t.”
It was the featherlight knock on the door that brought her back to reality.
Peering up from the canvas splayed out before her, Indy felt her heart skip a beat as Miles leaned against the doorframe, looking so ethereal that she wondered if she’d lost herself in a daydream.
She had heard him enter the penthouse as quietly as possible, but hadn’t expected him to stop by her painting room, let alone check up on her.
“Holy shitballs,” she whispered, dropping the paintbrush she’d just dipped into paint. “Shoot.”
There was now a random stain of red in the middle of the green canopy she had painted.
Miles Huxley had no right looking this handsome this late at night. That messy chestnut hair. Those thick-framed glasses. Those biceps contracting when he folded his arms across his equally toned chest.
“Didn’t mean to cuss,” she whispered, blinking.
“No worries.” His next move was to turn around, but then he pivoted again to face her, a crimson flush apparent atop his cheekbones. He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around the room. “So… I’m here. I’m home.”
Amusement threatened to skitter across her body, but Indy held composure over herself, and nodded. “I can see that.”
“And you’re awake.” He cleared his throat, scrubbing a hand over his jaw.
Tilting her head, Indy frowned at his fidgety demeanour. “I didn’t know we were pointing out the obvious. Is it my turn?”
With a disinterested look, he shook his head. “Save your breath.”
It was fascinating how Miles had gone from the cocky, confident man relaxing in the tub a couple of days ago, to this nervous, stuttering yet still handsome man.
“Well… Good night. Just wanted to check on you.”
Chuckling softly, she grabbed her paintbrush, the tingles on her cheekbones and the warmth flooding her chest unmistakably powerful. “Good night, Clark Kent.”
The frown taking over his features was downright adorable. “Oh. The glasses? I knew you were going to say that.”
She made sure not to meet his gaze as she dipped the brush into paint. “You did it on purpose to seduce me, didn’t you?”
“You wish,” he grumbled, causing her to laugh. “Was staying on your own okay? You didn’t break anything, did you?”
Oh, Indy was about to rile him up. Seeing him frustrated was one of her favourite forms of amusement.
Straightening herself, she smiled coyly. “I accidentally threw a pillow at your trophy shelf and two of them fell and broke.”
His eyes widened with bewilderment, his jaw tightening. “Indigo… How the fuck did it happen?”
“Pillow fight with Kam,” she stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “Then I snooped in your closet and God, man, your watch collection is insane! I touched them all with my greasy fingers after eating a pizza. One of them slipped from my grasp, the Audemars Piguet, and?—”
“Please stop.” Dragging his palms over his face, he sighed heavily.
The pain etched on his features was the reason a laugh bubbled out of her mouth. “Relax,” she said. “I’m kidding. I didn’t break anything and didn’t even go in your closet. I bet you have a cool watch collection, though.”
“I do. And it wasn’t funny. I nearly had a hard attack.”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, looking into his eyes. “You know I like messing with you.”
He shook his head, a smile threatening to split on his face. “You’re a brat. But I’m really going to bed now. You’re going to give me grey hairs soon enough. Good night.”
Another knock resonated not even ten minutes later, and Indy hid her smile when Miles peeked his head inside the room. Still wearing his glasses, he had changed into a pair of grey joggers and a large t-shirt.
She wished she could’ve taken a photo of him standing there to send it to Kamari, and say, See? I’m just hopeless and defenceless. You can’t blame me if I suddenly drop to my knees in front of him.
“Yes?”
For a moment, Miles stared down at her, his expression unreadable. But when the slightest shift on his brows was noticeable, she thought she was seeing concern glimmering in his eyes.
“You okay?”
The mere question made her heart skip a beat.
She nodded. “Yes. You? Can’t fall asleep?”
“I haven’t given it a try yet, but I wouldn’t have been able to fall asleep knowing you weren’t okay.”
Indy swallowed, using her free hand to tuck a loose strand of hair that had fallen out of her bun behind her ear. “I’m fine.”
Miles emitted a soft scoff, running fingers through the hair at his nape. “Indigo, there might only be one woman in my life”—his older sister, Maya, who had moved to South Africa after meeting the love of her life—“but I know damn well that when a woman says she’s fine, that she’s not fine at all.”
She couldn’t tear her gaze from him as he entered the room before taking a seat across from her on the floor and grabbing a blank canvas along with a paintbrush.
“What’s up with you?” he asked with a delicacy that she adored.
She looked down at her painting, uncertain of why tears were about to well in her eyes. Miles wasn’t one to express his feelings with grand gestures, but when it came to caring about Indy, it was the smallest things that mattered. His genuine concern. His willingness to spend more time with her and make art, when it was obvious that he was tired from his day.
Watching him dip the paintbrush in black acrylic, she just sighed. “Do you ever get nervous?”
He drew a vertical line. “I’m not a robot.”
“Some people would think otherwise.”
Seeing all the comments about Miles’ attitude truly broke her heart. He’d built an impenetrable brick wall around himself and refused to let anyone in. Sometimes, he was downright rude to some reporters. Sometimes, he would purposefully ignore a question regarding his private life because he simply liked his mask. Well, at least that was what Indy supposed.
He glared at her. “Of course I get nervous. All the time.”
“Even before a race?”
“Especially then. A race is the moment I have to prove myself to millions of people.”
“How do you deal with hate?”
Miles looked up at her. For a beat, she saw something that gripped her heart tightly before letting go as that sentiment vanished—tenderness or worry. His expression hardened then, and he looked exactly like the man ready to get into his race car, ready to show the world he was the best. “Who’s hating on you?”
With a shake of her head, she said, “No one. I’m just bracing myself for the criticism I’m going to face after my first appearance on live TV.”
Indy looked away, loathing the way she allowed her thoughts to tear her down.
“I’m sorry,” she said when the silence stretched out for too long. “We don’t have to talk about me?—”
“Hey, look at me,” he demanded with such a chilling softness that she couldn’t help but follow the command. His green eyes flicked between hers. “Life doesn’t end because someone didn’t like something you said or did. If anything, you should rise above the hatred and use all the constructive criticism to become the person they envy.”
“I’m so terrified of messing up.”
“And that’s okay,” he said in a whisper. “Your feelings are valid. But I know you, and you will work so hard not to mess up. You’re going to go out there and smash it, Indy. You’re going to show everyone that the key to success is perseverance, the way you do it so seamlessly. You’re going to stand in front of those cameras and smile, and everyone’s going to worship you. But when you’re with me, or whoever you want to talk to, you can always share the way you feel because I’m never going to invalidate your feelings or thoughts. I’m never going to judge you.”
And that was exactly why it was always so easy to talk to him. Why her heart had been beating so fast for him, and solely him.
She gave him a wobbly smile. And just like that, her confidence sparked again. All she’d needed was encouraging words. “Thank you.”
“Of course. You’re capable, alright?” She nodded. “Say it.”
“I’m capable,” she repeated with confidence.
He studied her for a beat, then the ghost of a smile appeared. “Good girl.”
Were her cheeks red? Certainly. “Don’t say things like that, Huxley.”
His lips twitched. “Couldn’t help myself.”
Silence fell again as they both went back to completing their paintings. As she caught a glimpse of his careful hold around the paintbrush—like she imagined the way he’d touch a sheet of music—she thought about getting used to this—pouring her worries and hopes into swirls of colours in Miles’ company. The high crashed down as soon as it bloomed, the constant reminder that she was only temporarily staying here ringing like a bell.
“You’d tell me if someone bothers you, right?”
With her hand freezing above her canvas, she took a small breath in. “I can defend myself just fine.”
“Right. But what’s so bad about having someone to take care of you?”
A lump thickened in her throat at the idea of Miles caring for her. Not a lot of people had come to her defence because she’d always felt strong enough to stand up for herself, but it felt nice to know he’d have her back in case she became powerless.
“Don’t be like this,” she said quietly, keeping her attention on the colour palette. “You’re making things hard for me too.”
The silence, however brief, made her peer up into his eyes. “Would being an asshole help then?”
She chuckled. “I’m not sure because it appears that I’m into sarcastic jackasses.”
“Noted.” A grin spread across his lips as he teased her with a wink.
Making art and sharing it with someone else wasn’t something she was always comfortable with, but there was something about him that procured her solace. The glimpses he kept stealing weren’t judgemental. They were simply made of admiration, and that only eased her more and more as her paintbrush caressed the canvas.
“You’re so fucking talented,” Miles whispered in awe.
When she slid her gaze towards him, he was focusing on his artwork, but she didn’t miss the heat crawling up his cheeks.
“So many compliments in such a short amount of time.”
He scowled. “I see you still don’t know how to accept kindness. Just say thanks.”
“Thank you,” she said earnestly. “What are you drawing?”
When he turned the canvas towards her, she barked out a laugh. He’d drawn a stick figure standing next to a Formula 1 car. “Autoportrait,” he said, grinning.
And as they laughed together, unrestrained and carefree, Indy knew that everything would be alright.
Maybe she could do this—just be friends with Miles. Maybe she was okay with it after all. Because focusing on her career was way more important than giving out her heart to a man who could shatter it too easily.