Chapter 13
MONTE CARLO, MONACO
The sound of Indy’s laughter fed his soul. Melodious, feathery, and joyous—it felt akin to a ray of sunshine.
It was the first thing he heard when he stepped into the flat. It was always the first thing that would procure him solace whenever he was in her presence—even if he heard her laugh through the closed door of her room when he passed by.
Sitting at the kitchen’s island with her laptop opened and her phone in hand, Indy didn’t seem to acknowledge his presence just yet. But it was when he started whistling, toeing his shoes off, that she dragged her attention towards him.
With the grocery bags in hand, he walked into the kitchen. “Thought you were going out with Ava and Kam?”
He’d once been startled by her being there, but now the contentment he felt any time he would see her roaming around couldn’t be ignored. The relief to know he wasn’t enveloped by solitude. The ease and serenity her company provided.
“Change of plans.”
“Oh.” He was aware of how much she cherished her time with her friends. “Hope you’re not too disappointed to spend the evening here.”
Her shoulders popped. “I love slow nights, too. I might just run myself a bath and read a good, smutty romance.”
Miles couldn’t help but lift his brows, slightly curious about the type of books that were scattered around her room.
She interrupted his thoughts by saying, “ You look disappointed to see me here, though.”
A scowl took over his features. “Come on, Indigo. We’ve been through this. I don’t mind your company. In fact, I think I’m happy to know that we’re both home tonight. Doesn’t mean I’m agreeing to putting a chick-flick on.”
“Damn it. We were getting somewhere.”
“With that being said, I’m not opposed to watching a horror movie.”
“You’re just saying that in hopes that I’ll end up curling in your chest and stay in your arms.”
He hummed, the corner of his mouth tipping upwards. “Maybe.”
“You wish. I’m a tough kid.”
“That’s not what I remember from the times we had movie night over at your place and you’d end up hiding under the blankets.”
She scoffed. “Honestly, Huxley, you simply missed your chance to comfort me. That was when I was young. Now I’m brave.”
He barked out a laugh, seeing right through her shit. “It’s never too late to give it a try.”
She put her phone down, eyeing him suspiciously. “You must be ill.”
“Pardon me?”
“You seem to be in a good mood.”
“I am.” His grin widened.
She blinked. “That’s unusual.”
Shrugging, he took the groceries out of the bag. “I had a good day off. Ran twelve kilometres this morning, then trained on the sim all afternoon.”
“ That’s your definition of a good day off? You and I are so not alike.”
He chuckled. “What’s that saying again? Opposites attract?”
Dragging her reading glasses atop her head, she said, “Did you just admit that you’re attracted to me?”
Miles turned around to wash his hands, but mostly to hide his face where a burning blush had bloomed. He couldn’t voice the confirmation for numerous reasons, but he didn’t deny it either. Physically, she was everything. But it was her soul and heart that he was desperately trying not to adore. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Indy.”
She hummed, and when he peered over his shoulder, she was looking at the groceries he had splayed out atop the counter. “What are you making?”
“Bolognese, but I wasn’t sure if you liked it.”
Sparks ignited in her eyes. “Are you kidding? I love it. Let me finish writing this email, and I’ll help.”
“You don’t have to.”
Her soft smile sent his mind into overdrive. “I want to.”
While he took a cutting board and knife out, he couldn’t help but observe the way Indy was thoroughly focused on the screen of her laptop. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows, not missing her fleeting glance when he did so. “What are you working on?”
For a heartbeat, their eyes locked, and her brows tugged together like she couldn’t believe his interest was genuine. Like she was wondering if his kindness was real. But the walls surrounding him always came down when he talked to her. “I just sent over my report from last weekend, and now I’m just reading over my text for the video I’m shooting on Thursday.”
Even as he tried to busy himself by sorting everything out to make the dish, he couldn’t help but be concerned by the soft sigh escaping her nose. “Is something bothering you?”
“No?”
“Is that a question or your answer?” His frown deepened when his gaze dropped to her right hand, where she was busy rubbing the spot between her thumb and forefinger. “Indy. What’s going on?”
Loosening a heavy breath, she closed her laptop. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“Don’t ask too much of me,” he teased. It made her lips pull upwards, though the twisting feeling in his chest was a sensation he despised.
A beat passed before she confessed, “I’m dyslexic.”
Miles blinked, crossing his arms over his chest. Relief flooded his senses—he’d been expecting something terrible. “And? You thought I was going to laugh at you or judge you for that?”
Her shoulders dropped. “Well, I’m used to it, so?—”
“People have made fun of you for being dyslexic?”
She nodded, her expression solemn.
Miles ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Shit, Indy. That’s not okay.”
“It’s not a big deal. A lot of people suffer from it.”
“Yeah, exactly, but it doesn’t make it okay for people to belittle you because you struggle to read or write at a normal pace. Do your colleagues know?”
“They do. I just need more time to read, but I do get how it can be inconvenient for the team. Also, what kind of reporter is dyslexic?” She emitted a nervous laugh, rolling her eyes.
But Miles didn’t find it funny in the slightest. He cocked his head in curiosity. “Can I help in any way?”
She shook her head. “No, but thank you. That’s why I wake up extra early and go to bed later than I should during a race weekend because I take the time I need to read over my texts and memorise them perfectly. I try avoiding checking my cards because they can confuse me.”
Miles nodded. He wished he’d known. Wished she could see how strong and brave she was.
She went to wash her hands as Miles took out the flour from the pantry. “It can take me two weeks to read a book,” she admitted.
A smile nearly made its appearance on his lips at the sight of her slippers. His gaze trailed up her legs to settle on the shorts hidden below the oversized jumper she was wearing. “So? Life’s not a competition.”
“Says the guy who competes in a racing car for a living.”
“It’s different, and you know it. I know you love reading, and you do it for your own pleasure. Ava can read three books in a week while you take two weeks to read one, so what? It’s your journey, your life. You go at your own pace.”
Leaning her hip against the counter, she grabbed a hair tie to gather her locks in a messy knot at the nape of her neck. “Do you know how hard it is not to compare yourself to others? I feel like everything’s a competition. Even reading. It’s just so overwhelming.”
“Comparing yourself to others is inevitable, but don’t let others ruin this for you. You’re smart, and if the people around you make you second-guess yourself, then they are not your friends or worthy of your time.”
Her blue eyes shone with emotions he couldn’t exactly name, but made his breath catch. The twitch in his fingers forced him to curl his hand by his side, otherwise he would let his control slip away and tuck a rogue strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “You always know how to reassure me.”
“Always,” he murmured, smiling down at her. “A woman with a burning confidence like yours shouldn’t let worthless people step over her flame.”
She laughed. “So poetic. Careful, I might start thinking you’re flirting.”
Time seemed to freeze the exact moment Indy smiled, bright and unrestrained, and he took a mental picture to which he would hold on for eternity.
Miles had always found Indigo beautiful. But when she was herself, not fancied up or not trying to impress her entourage with rouge lips and high heels; when she was laughing heartily with her hair unbound and that paint-stained jumper, that was when he found her most beautiful.
Her smile dropped ever so slightly, her eyes flickering between his, her cheekbones tinted with a smattering of rose as she looked at his lips.
He cleared his throat. “Okay, let’s cook.”
Her mesmerising eyes sparkled. “I’m listening, chef. What do you want me to do?”
Hearing Indy call him chef made his blood heat up. But to conceal the obvious effect of her words, he just said as nonchalantly as he could: “You can cut up the carrots and celery while I make the pasta?”
She beamed. “That works for me.”
Not that the calmness between them was ever disturbing or uncomfortable, but Miles liked having music in the background, and he knew that Indy loved it just as much. He glanced over at her, only to see her thoroughly focused on the carrot she was busy peeling as he clicked on the playlist he’d created on the plane a few days ago.
Songs for Daisy.
Would he ever share it with her? Probably not.But this playlist was filled with over a hundred songs that reminded him of her.
“Oh!” she squealed as Noah Kahan’s Orange Juice weaved through the room. “I love this song.”
And how did he know that? He had heard her play it on repeat during one of her pottery sessions.
As he kneaded the dough, he could feel her whole attention on his moving hands. Catching the reverence in her gaze, he smirked. “Want a photo?”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass.” He smirked again at the way she peered at his hands before focusing back on her task.
Indy interrupted her soft singing to ask, “When did you learn how to cook?”
The pasta was ready to be cooked, so he helped her cut the remaining vegetables. “I think I was around nine or ten.”
“Wow,” she whispered. “Really?”
He nodded. Usually, he’d shut himself down or would change subjects when people wanted to pry into his past, but this was different. This was Indy. And everything felt easy and natural with her. “My dad, he’s always worked hard. When he would leave the office late he’d either bring us some take-out food or ask if we were okay making ourselves something quick. Maya and I would eat grilled cheese or pasta. Sometimes, Zoya and Andrew would come knocking on the door and have us over to eat with them.”
Indy was now standing next to him, leaned against the counter as he waited for the saucepan to heat. “Ava’s parents, right?”
“Yeah.” He smiled at the thought of the girl who he had considered a sister his whole life, who was now his press officer. Smiled at the thought of the two people who had taken him and Maya under their wing when they were on their own. “Such good people. Anyway, I just wanted to help Dad. I could see how tired he was, working two jobs at a time, driving me left and right for my karting competitions, taking care of Maya and I. So I learned to cook on my own, with books and TV shows.”
“That’s very admirable. Would you be a chef if you weren’t an F1 driver?”
“Probably. What about you?”
“This isn’t about me.”
“So? I want to learn about you every second of the day.” That was a foolish thing to say—a paradox to the rules he’d set.
She smiled softly. “Actually, I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it because I’ve always had one goal in mind. I remember hearing Mum and Dad talking one night, saying how badly they wanted to help your family. I guess I never realised how much you struggled to survive whilst I grew up with a maid and personal chef.”
A lump started to build inside his throat, but he swallowed it before the dismay could be heard through his words. “It’s okay. Dad sacrificed so much for me, but I also needed to take care of my sister. She cooked at first, just to fulfil her duty as a big sister, but then she stopped. She was so angry at our Dad for working so much, for not being home, but she couldn’t understand at the time that without him, we’d be nowhere today. I started taking care of them, of the little flat we lived in, just to allow Dad to breathe when he got home.”
“Oh, Huxley…”
For a moment, only the sounds of onions sizzling in the pan filled the silence. The smell of it swivelling in the air. The empathic regard in Indy’s eyes.
“What about your mother?”
A phone ringing prevented him from answering, and instead of sighing with relief, he found himself wanting to reveal his deepest secrets to Indy. Secrets he’d kept to himself, ones he hadn’t told anyone. Secrets that had obliterated him, but simmered deep within him, asking to be freed.
“It’s Daddy Huxley,” Indy said, liftinghis phone that he had left on the counter.
He jutted his chin all the while stirring the mix of vegetables in the pan. “Go ahead, answer it.”
She shrugged, bringing the phone to her ear. “Hello! Hi, Henry. Yes, it’s Indy…Well, he’s cooking, but…Oh, he’s making bolognese. Oh? It’s the best I’ll ever have?” She raised her eyebrows, and Miles chuckled. “Well, I can’t wait to have a taste. I’m doing good, thank you for asking…Yeah, jet lag is a bitch. I don’t know how you do it…Yes, hang on, let me ask him.”
Miles closed his agape mouth, rubbing his chest where he felt like a cord had pulled and released his vital organ. Seeing Indy and his dad bonding so easily did something unexplainable to him.
“Your dad asks: navy blue or grey?”
He frowned, ready to ask for more context, but then he understood. “Blue.”
She repeated, “He says blue, Henry.” She gave Miles a thumbs-up to which he returned a solemn nod. He listened to their conversation whilst continuing to cook, a small smile dancing on the corner of his lips. “Flowers? Yes, flowers are always a good idea! First date? That’s so exciting! What’s her name? Oh, pretty. Well, have fun. Be careful. Yes? Of course.” Her voice had just cracked, causing Miles to look at her with a frown. Indy nodded, her gaze on the floor as she rubbed her nose. “Bye.”
Gently, she deposited the phone atop the counter and found his gaze.“Your dad is going on a date.”
Miles chuckled. “I figured. He was asking me about the suit he should wear.”
“He’s adorable.”
He grabbed two plates as Indy retrieved glasses and the cutlery. “I hope it goes well. He hasn’t been on a date in a while.”
“How come?”
It was when their plates were full and they were sitting across from each other at the table that he continued, “The women he dated were awful.”
When Indy complimented him on the food after taking the first bite, he smiled and thanked her. “But Henry is such a wonderful man.”
“He is,” Miles agreed. “The best man I know. But the women he tried dating in the past only wanted him for one thing: money.”
Indy groaned frustratingly. “That’s not fair. Why can’t good people find happiness?”
He twirled his pasta around his fork. “I’d love to see my dad happy. Not with the watches and cars I buy him, but with a woman who will love him for his true self, you know?”
Indy nodded. “He’s… Your mother… Actually, you don’t have to answer me. I remember Kai telling me to never ask about her.”
He took a sip of water. “You know, I’m really grateful for Kai. We met when we were just kids but he’s been there during my worst moments. That guy pulled me up every time I kept falling.”
Emotions swamped her eyes. “Kai is an amazing guy.”
“He is.” He cleared his throat, deciding to give more pieces of himself. “I don’t know if you already knew that, but…my mother left when I was ten.”
“Did you completely lose touch with her?” Sadness was woven to her tone, questions dancing in that crystal gaze. “I just know she’s out of the picture.”
“Yeah. We don’t talk about her.”
“I’m sorry,” Indy whispered. “Let’s move on. But if you ever feel the want to talk about her, or about anything, you know where to find me.”
“Thank you,” he said earnestly. The glow of the fading sun shone softly upon her face, and he was absolutely enthralled by her effortless beauty. Her beautiful aura. He could get lost in those ocean eyes, so he needed to hold control over himself lest he fell and drowned. “I really appreciate it.”
“Of course.” She smiled. “I have one thing to ask.”
“You get one free pass. I already told you so much about me tonight.”
She shrugged. “If you want to make it fair, I usually spill a lot about myself on dates.”
He barked out a laugh. “Keeping that in mind. Ask away then.”
When her expression softened, the warmth dancing inside his chest enveloped him in a cosmos of comfort. “Do you have a dream?”
Miles should’ve been alarmed by the rapidity of his answer coming to mind, but then he realised that it was okay to be hopeful. “I want to be happy. You know, happiness that doesn’t involve racing and winning.”
He also wanted to tell her that he wanted to be enough, worth it, and good. But no matter how much he would voice it or wish upon the stars for it to happen, he simply knew that he wasn’t worthy of that.
Indy’s fingers twitched around her fork, but her eyes stayed locked to his. She gave him a devastating, beautiful smile. “You’ll get there. I know you will.”
Miles was grateful to Indy for changing subjects and telling him about a canvas she’d seen in Thiago’s flat, but he felt the urge to ask her something in return.
“Can I ask a question?”
She nodded. “Hit me.”
“What did my dad say to you? You seemed a bit emotional over there.”
She set her cutlery down, the tenderness etched on her face stealing the air straight out of his lungs. “He thanked me for looking after you because you’ve always been the one to take care of others. I hope your father knows that he raised an incredible man. Whoever you marry will be one lucky woman, Huxley.”
Heartbeat speeding up and threatening to go in overdrive, he gaped at her in awe. It was at that moment that Miles felt everything shift.