Chapter 27
MIAMI, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
T he soft knock on her door brought a smile to her lips. Indy looked up from the book she’d been reading to check the time—nearly eight p.m.
Later than she had anticipated.
When she opened the door, Miles was leaning against the doorway, a smug smile on his lips.
“Can I help you?” She feigned annoyance by huffing. “I was in the middle of reading.”
He peered behind her shoulder. “I bet it was a steamy scene.”
“Do you want me to show you?”
Mischief shimmered in his gaze as he lifted a card—the key to her room. “Actually, this is a very creative way of telling me you want to hook up. Giving your key to Ava and asking her to give it to me.”
Indy shrugged. “Took you long enough to get the hint.”
As he walked past her, the brush of his shoulder against hers made electricity barrel through her bones. “You could’ve handed it to me yourself.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” she teased, closing the door.“So, I was wondering what you do with the photos I send you.”
Ever since they’d landed in Miami days ago, they hadn’t been able to catch a moment alone, but their nights had been filled with text exchanges—photos, to be specific. Indy in the bath. Miles’ naked chest reflecting in the mirror. Another photo of him a while later, drops of water glistening on his abs, his arousal straining against the white towel. A peek of Indy’s thong. A selfie with her shirt unbuttoned, giving him a glimpse of her lacy bra. Later at night, a hand shielding her bare breasts as she lay naked and alone in her bed.
“Take a wild guess, Daisy.”
“I have an idea.”
Maybe he’d fisted himself in the shower, thinking of all the photos they had sent to each other and listening to their recording from a few nights ago. Indy had certainly used her vibrator every single night, wishing he would come and seek her out.
Her hands trembled with anticipation as she wondered what was about to happen. During the post-Grand Prix dinner, all they had done was look at each other, even from either ends of the large table. Secret, stolen glances, even when she was busy talking to someone. Secret smiles and heated looks.
He looked so handsome with his linen pants and matching shirt, his hair ruffled like he’d passed his fingers through it. Indy was ready to take her clothes off, but it was his frown that stopped her in her tracks.
“You were painting.” It wasn’t a question. He turned to her, his brows high.
“I was,” she admitted, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress.
Miles didn’t say anything. He threw her keycard onto the bed, though, which elicited confusion to rock through her. “I’ll be back.”
“Wow, if you’re not interested in me, just tell me,” she teased—just because she loved to give him shit.
Before he could walk towards the door, he went up to her, grabbing her chin. The softness in his gaze made all the anxiety coiling in her gut taper off. “You know how I feel about you, Indy. I’m just going back to my room to grab something.”
“So you’re coming back?” Indy wasn’t sure why she was so worried about him abandoning her.
The pad of his thumb grazed the corner of her lips. “Always for you,” he whispered. “You should change, though. I’m taking you somewhere.”
“Where?”
“I know places.”
Miles came back twenty minutes later, holding a basket with a jumper tied around his shoulders.
“Ready?” he asked, grabbing a sketch pad from the desk along with a few paintbrushes and tubes of acrylic paint.Miles wandered his gaze all over her physique, like he didn’t quite know where to look, his eyes brightening. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She smiled timidly, as if he rendered her powerless. As though she lost all senses of herself whenever he looked at her like this.
“Come on.” He extended his hand, blushing when their fingers entwined. “We need to hurry.”
They walked out of the hotel holding hands. If there was one thing Miles was a professional at, it was ignoring and not giving a damn about what people said about him. He proudly walked by her side, his chin held high, as Indy noticed everyone looking at them and snapping pictures.
“Hey, Miles?” one fan wearing an Imperium t-shirt asked as they passed the hotel’s gate. “Can we take a pic?”
“Sorry,” he said, “but I’m on a date right now, and I need you all to respect my privacy. I’ll come back in the morning to take photos with you.”
Indy tried to keep up with his hasty footfalls as they walked to the beach. He talked about everything and anything before stopping on the sand where there weren’t too many people around.
Indy lifted her gaze to the sky, painted in a multitude of colour splashes—orange filaments weaving through pink clouds, waves of blue and violet dancing across the beautiful painting. She felt her breath catch at the sight, Miles’ fingers letting go of hers.
Still in awe of the scenery, she looked over to where Miles stood, the sounds of waves gently crashing with each other filling her ears. She caught his tender gaze, the golden light falling over him. He was smiling softly, complete devotion etched on his expression.
When something slipped out of his grasp, he snapped back to reality. “Fuck!” He turned around and ran after the blanket being blown away by the wind.
When he came back, cheeks rosy and hair untamed, a laugh bubbled out of her. The sound of her delight caused him to chuckle, and a nanosecond later, he was shaking his head whilst grinning broadly.
At that moment, nothing around them existed. Indy managed to tune out all the sounds ringing around her, capturing this instant as he smiled down at her like she was the embodiment of sunlight.
Miles settled the blanket on the sand just as Indy stepped out of her sandals. She sat down, observing him take out the painting equipment along with snacks and bottled water he poured into two wineglasses.
“This is fancy.”
She squeezed some paint onto the palette as he opened a packet of Sour Patch Kids. He threw a sweet into the air and caught it swiftly before giving her a roguish wink.
“Anything for you,” he murmured. Digging further into the basket, he retrieved a vibrant, pink flower. Delicately tucking a strand of her hair behind an ear, Miles let his touch linger upon her skin. He popped the flower behind her ear, smiling.“Beautiful.”
“Where’d you get that?” She grazed a petal with her finger.
“Plucked it from a bush outside of the hotel,” he admitted without an ounce of guilt weaving through his tone.
“Delinquent.”
“I guess being with you makes me reckless.”
Then he took out a little vintage digital camera, and snapped a picture as she burst out in laughter.
“What else do you have in that basket, Mary Poppins?”
Miles mirrored her delight then set the camera down before propping himself onto an elbow. He popped another candy into his mouth, humming in pleasure.
“Man, eating shitty food after a GP is my favourite thing to do.”
“I bet it is. I couldn’t do what you do. Train hard all year long, follow a strict diet.”
“I’m just very hard on myself for everything. Some drivers aren’t as harsh with themselves as I am.”
She reached for a sweet. “I think that being hard on yourself can be a good quality.”
“How do you do that?” he asked softly. “How do you always see the good in every situation?”
Indy lifted her shoulders in a small shrug, smiling as a response.
He didn’t press and handed her a paintbrush.
There was something so innately comforting about this—sitting under the setting sun, snacks scattered around them whilst painting, the soothing sound of waves gently crawling to the shore as background noise.
When he gave her a square canvas and set another one before him, she stared at him dumbfounded. “Where did you even get all those things?”
“Ava,” he simply said. “She’s got my back.”
She smiled at the thought of her two friends having each other’s backs no matter what. “I love that. Thank you for doing all of this.”
Indy sighed in contentment. She’d dreamed of this her entire life. She was aware that Miles didn’t act like this with anyone but her, so she wouldn’t ruin this for him. He didn’t trust easily, and being able to catch a glimpse of Miles’ vulnerability, to have his trust, was akin to holding a ball made of crystal—fragile, unique, and precious. She wouldn’t break it.
“Would you look at this view?” she asked quietly, her stare wandering across the breathtaking sky.
When his fingertips caressed her forearm, she shivered, but she tried convincing herself they were caused by the cool wind. “I am. It’s spectacular.”
But when she turned to look at him, wanting to see the raw awe on his expression, she found him watching her adoringly. The look of affection itself was enough to make her heart clench.
“You’re such a flirt,” she fired at him.
He laughed heartily before shifting into a seated position. “Only with you.”
“I’m honoured.”
“You should be,” he said smugly. “So, what’s going on inside that pretty head of yours?”
Indy shrugged. “Oh, you know, the usual same. Nothing for you to worry about.”
She could feel how intensely he was observing her reaction as she painted. “Don’t do this, don’t act like it’s going to bother me to talk about what’s making you upset. I know you’re the cheerful friend who always lifts others up, the one who comes running when someone calls for help. I know you’re the optimistic, bright, incredible girl who loves to say that everything’s going to be all right. Who always says that she’s fine. Except you don’t let yourself ask for help when you struggle. So talk to me, okay?”
“I don’t want to ruin the date.”
“Indy… Please, stop. I want you to trust me the way I trust you. I’m here to listen or just be a shoulder to cry on. Normally, I wouldn’t push you to talk about it, but knowing that you’re bottling your feelings inside is hurting me. Seeing you in pain is literally destroying me.”
She swallowed down the knot inside her throat. “I broke down today.”
“So?” Indy didn’t respond, already feeling tears burn her eyes. Gently, he lifted her chin, obliging her to look at the concern etched on his face. “Baby, that’s okay. You’re allowed to cry, to let go. You’re strong and brave, and crying doesn’t make you weak.”
With her free hand, she wiped a tear that had escaped of its free will. “I feel pressured.”
“I know you do,” he murmured. “It means that you take your job to heart. I’m proud of you for speaking about it.”
“You’re proud of me?” That was not the point, but these were words she’d rarely heard throughout her life. It was odd how a few words could spark her determination.
“So much. Always.”
Indy sniffed, blinking up at the sky. She couldn’t control her small smile when Miles leaned forward to peck her cheek—collecting a tear. “I’m proud of myself too. I think I’m doing a great job at broadcasting, conducting the interviews, and being a sports journalist in general. I’m making good progress, but… I don’t know, I just can’t help but compare myself to others. I overthink a lot, and it gives me anxiety. It’s like I can’t get those thoughts out of my head no matter how hard I convince myself that I’m enough.”
“Comparing yourself to others is inevitable,” he said softly.
Indy frowned and looked at him while he busied himself painting. What? She didn’t know, but the concentration on his face was utterly adorable. “It happens to you too?”
“All the time.”
“But you’re the best. You’re the World Champion.”
“So? Doesn’t mean I don’t crave to be different and do better. I love Thiago’s driving style, especially the way he masters the late brakings. Rowan is a phenomenal driver in the rain, if not the best I’ve ever seen. Charlie has perfect control of his car and is excellent during a race start. I might have three championships under my belt, I might be the best in some people’s regard, but it doesn’t mean that I feel like I’m the best.”
“And what do you do to stop comparing yourself to them?”
“I work harder to become better. And I’m not saying that you need to push yourself to become someone you’re not happy with, because I know you feel comfortable in your own skin. I love how fierce you are, how strong and inspiring you are. I’ve already told you, and I’ll say it a million times again, but you’re doing an amazing job. When you step into a world like this one, it’s obvious that people are going to compare your work with someone else’s. It’s obvious that it’s not going to be easy, because life’s never pink and full of butterflies. But Indy, it’s your first time experiencing life, too. Don’t be this hard on yourself. Don’t let anyone break you. You’re way too full of life to listen to someone’s bullshit.”
His last word made her chuckle, but it didn’t conceal the tear streaming down her face. God, why did she always cry so easily?
“Life doesn’t stop because someone didn’t like what I said or did,” she whispered, repeating the words he’d said to her a couple of months ago.
“No, it doesn’t, baby. It’s your life, you’re living your dream, and you need to get inside your head that your happiness cannot be defined by someone’s expectations. You’re doing a phenomenal job at what you’re doing, so you have to focus on the positive outcome. Not the negative. You’re simply incredible, Indy. Fuck everyone and everything that make you feel less than that.”
“Thank you, Huxley. I—I’m sorry,” she said frustratingly.
“Come here.” He shifted until he could pull her into his chest without knocking over the paint supplies. She exhaled, tightening her embrace. “What are you sorry for?”
After basking in his warmth for a moment, they separated and went back to focusing on their respective paintings. “For crying. For being so…sensitive?”
“There’s no need to apologise for being yourself.”
Swallowing, she took a deep breath. “When I was younger, I wasn’t allowed to cry. It annoyed my parents to see me cry over the most stupid things, and it made me think that I was weak. I had to learn to contain my emotions and cry when I was locked inside my room.” Despite it all, her parents were the best and she wouldn’t trade them for anyone else.
“I’m sorry, Indy.” Some sort of gloom had misted over his eyes. “You’ve grown into a courageous and empowering woman. I hope you know that.”
She nodded. “And I’m also sorry that you’re feeling this way towards your friends.”
“Don’t be sorry for me.” He caressed her knee. “It’s part of the sport.”
“For the record, I think you’re deserving of your three championships. You might even become a four-time World Champion, and you totally deserve it. You make driving a Formula 1 car look so easy, but it’s your mindset that I admire so much.”
“Your words mean a lot.” He was focused on what he was doing, but he rapidly glanced her way. “We both put a mask on when we face the world, but I’ve always loved the fact that we don’t have to do it around each other.”
“Me too.”
The silence falling between them was never uncomfortable or awkward. It was always peaceful. Between small smiles and secret glances, Indy noticed the slight tremor in his hands, the stars in his eyes, and the blush on the back of his neck that he kept rubbing.
Was he nervous? Indy could never fathom how this powerful, sexy man could lose control around her.
“What are you thinking of right now?” she asked as he popped a candy into his mouth.
“I’m thinking that I’m an idiot for waiting so long to ask you out. That you’re one in a million. That you’re the only woman I’ve opened up to without feeling like I’m being judged. I’m thinking that I really like you, Indy.”
“I really like you, too, and I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered, holding his gaze. “I know you like your solitude and that you don’t need anyone but yourself. But I’m here, and you can have me if you want. I will wait for you, Huxley.”
There was a flicker of pain perceptible in his irises. He grabbed her free hand, brushing his lips over her knuckles. “I don’t deserve you. Thank you for seeing me.”
It was her turn to kiss the centre of his palm. “Always.”
He grinned, and the entire world came to a halt.No beauty in this universe could compare to the masterpiece that was Miles Huxley.
“So, I keep waiting for you to walk into the paddock wearing a shirt claiming that you love me unconditionally and that I’m your entire world.”
Throwing his head back, he barked out a laugh, the sound warming her chest. “Please, I’ll wear that when you least expect it, and only if you invite me to your podcast.”
Surprise rattled through her. The man who didn’t like interviews, who always answeredcoldly to reporters, wantedto be a guest on her podcast. “Really?”
“Yeah. I think it’s obvious that the people like seeing me with you. You’re kind and funny, and you’ll know how to put me at ease. If I want them to see that I’m not an asshole outside of racing, I want you to show them.”
“Well, I’m honoured.”
She’d always wanted to invite Miles onto her podcast, so hearing the enthusiasm laced in his tone made delight crash over her. She was certain that everyone would fall in love with him if they knew how good of a man he truly was.
Just as she finished her painting, she shivered. The colours in the sky had faded into more sombre shades, indicating that soon enough, the moon would claim its place, and the stars would shine.
Miles grabbed the jumper he’d taken with him and pulled it over her head, untucking her hair from the collar. “There.” He pecked her nose, making her cheeks heat up.
Indy thanked him, controlling herself from taking a whiff of the piece of clothing. The scent of Miles’ cologne was intoxicating.
And every time he acted like this—tender, loving—and talked to her like she was genuinely amazing and worthy of good things, it made Indy’s world rattle. As if he couldn’t stand having her on the borders of his universe, needing to nestle her into its centre and keeping her there.
But did Miles know that he’d already become her centre of gravity a long time ago? That no matter what she did to build a fortress around her, she still gravitated towards him?
He suggested going back to the hotel, and she agreed. He snapped a photo of the mess scattered atop the blanket, complimenting her painting. She’d drawn the sky, splashes of pink tangled with orange and red—as if the heavens had screamed of burning love.
“What did you paint?” she asked, leaning over his shoulder to watch his own masterpiece.
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “A sunrise.”
“Why?”
“It makes me think of you,” he confessed before brushing a kiss to her temple. “These colours remind me of you, just like a sunrise because they’re bright. Because a sunrise is exactly the way you make me feel: happy and alive. A sunrise is a promise to a good day, a good life, with brightness around us even when I surrounded myself with darkness for a while. Sunrise means hope to me.”
Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she sighed happily when he returned the embrace. She could feel the wild beating of his heart against her own. “You can’t just say that and not kiss me.”
He chuckled against the crook of her neck. “Trust me, I want to kiss you so badly, but I stand by my rule; I don’t kiss on the first date.”
“You better ask me out again, then.”
He gripped her chin, forcing her to look into his mesmerising eyes. “I will. In fact, you’re coming to Romeo and Ez’s game tomorrow night as my date.”
“Wow,” she teased. “So eager to be my man.”
His smile was broad and unrestrained. Just for her. “You have no idea. I like to consider myself lucky.”