Chapter 6 Theo
Theo
Monaco
“Now this is swanky,” said Brooke as I opened the door to my hotel room.
“Wait ’til you see the view,” I replied. I grabbed her wrist and tugged her over to the balcony. We had a view over Monaco’s marina, where the mega-yachts of the mega-rich were docked, and of the streets below. The streets that were currently being prepped for the upcoming race.
“Are you nervous?” she asked.
“Always,” I replied, leading her to the sofa. “Do you want a drink?”
“Sure. What are you having?”
I held up the pitcher of iced tea and she nodded, and I poured each of us a glass.
“I didn’t know you were so refined,” said Brooke as I sat down next to her.
“I had some iced tea last week and ever since I’ve been craving it,” I said.
“Oh, on your date?” she asked.
“I told you, I didn’t have a date.” I willed my blush not to give me away. It was one of the many disadvantages of being so pale.
“Then why did you cancel our date, Theodore?” she asked with a grin. “I’d even booked us that pizza place that you like.”
At that, I knew I’d been busted. I felt my neck heat, and then my cheeks were burning too.
“You cheeky bastard!” she said. “You totally took someone out to the restaurant anyway.”
“Maybe…” I gave her my winningest smile. “But it wasn’t a date. Sebastian just owed me after our latest bet.”
Brooke shook her head. “Those bets will be the death of you.”
“I’ve not lost to him this year yet,” I said. “They seem to be motivating me.”
“Poor bugger,” muttered Brooke. “He shouldn’t have to submit to your humiliations after all the other crap he’s gone through.”
I grimaced. “You know, I said the same thing to him. But he said that it’s providing him with a bit of joy during a crap season.”
“So what’s the bet this time?” Brooke asked.
“Oh, shit! I forgot to tell you. We’re going out in five minutes,” I said.
“But I only just got here,” said Brooke.
“It’s worth it, I promise.”
Despite some grumbling, I managed to get Brooke out of the hotel and walking through Monaco’s meandering streets down toward the waterfront with me. Some of the drivers were undertaking press interviews for the day, and I knew that Sebastian would be. In the clothes I’d picked out for him, no less.
Monaco was beautiful, and historic, and I could see why the MIA kept it on the race calendar despite the narrow streets making for a boring race for us.
The views were stunning, and the wealth in the town meant a lot of business deals were done over the race weekend.
Next year’s sponsors could be decided, or new teams could be formed through mergers and splits.
The whole weekend was geared toward making a big impact on the sport. But our job was just to race.
Down on the waterfront, cameras were set up.
Some were focusing on the megayachts and the various royals and billionaires within, but most were focused on the drivers who’d been stuck on press day duties.
Luckily, my teammate Graham was taking the responsibility for ZX Computing, but at one end of the press junket Sebastian was holding court with a couple of familiar reporters.
“Oh. My. God.” Brooke had spotted him, and immediately pulled out her phone. Unfortunately for her, I was no longer seeing the funny side of my little prank. And all because of the Adonis before me.
I hadn’t considered how much broader Sebastian was than me, or the height difference we carried mostly in our torsos.
One of my more religious friends had been married early, so for his bachelor party we had all gone out in the most embarrassing clothes we could pick up for less than ￡10 at a charity shop.
I had found the perfect t-shirt, a little small for me, that was baby pink, covered in sparkles, with an adorable kitten on the front and the slogan This Pussy Loves Cuddles!
We’d had a great weekend, and the t-shirt had languished at the bottom of my suitcase ever since.
Until now. Until the funny little t-shirt I’d bought for myself was stretched over the shoulders of the most beautiful man on the planet.
Like a treasure map between his stubble and groin, a tiny bit of chest hair was visible at the stretched neck opening.
My eyes drifted downward to where the treasure map continued, as the t-shirt didn’t quite stretch to the bottom of his stomach.
I could make out his fur-covered washboard abs as the trail led all the way down into his designer jeans. X marks the spot.
“Fuck. Me,” I muttered quietly.
“Jaw off the floor, Mr Tyler,” said Brooke. “I can see why you have eyes for him though.”
“I do not have—shut up, he’s coming over!” I nudged Brooke as she dissolved into fits of giggles at my side. Sebastian approached with a level of confidence I could never have expected from a man in a pink-pussy t-shirt.
“Looking good,” I said, trying to make it sound cutting and sardonic, but probably sounding far too earnest. Because he looked damn good.
“Thank you, I’ve had many compliments,” said Sebastian.
“I have also had several calls from management sounding very stressed, but the TikTok man was thrilled. Says he’ll have ‘content for weeks’.
” Sebastian laughed, and I found myself unable to look away from him.
From any part of him. God damn, I was down bad.
“I’ll leave you to it,” said Brooke with a wide grin. “I think the pretty one from Channel 5 Australia is trying to get Sebastian’s attention, but maybe she’d rather my number.”
“You’re seriously happy wearing that t-shirt?” I whispered to Sebastian as we watched Brooke put the moves on the poor reporter, who was indeed very pretty.
“I look great, and from the way you look at me, I think you know it too,” said Sebastian.
My blush betrayed me once again, I could feel it creeping up my face even as he spoke. “No comment,” I replied when my brain started to work again. “Are you confident for this week’s race?”
Sebastian held up a hand and wiggled it side to side. “So-so. That’s the problem with Monaco, the race is all but decided in qualifying.”
“Better have a good qualifying session then,” I said. I could see reporters heading towards us, so turned to leave. No way I was talking to reporters if we weren’t on the clock.
“I think you’re forgetting something,” said Sebastian, snagging my arm and pulling me close. I shivered, imagining for a second that he wanted to kiss me goodbye. His wicked grin implied it was on the cards.
But he leaned in close to my ear to whisper to me. “This week, whoever loses the race jumps into the marina…” he hesitated, still holding me where I was for dramatic effect, before dropping the final little bomb.
“…naked.”