Chapter 13 Sebastian
Sebastian
Ihad won races. Earned millions of euros. Flirted with a championship and gained the adoration of hundreds of thousands of fans worldwide. So would it be an exaggeration to say that my week with Theo was the best of my life? No, it wouldn’t.
Five days of finally being able to admit to one another the sheer want that been running like an undercurrent for at least a year.
Five days of being able to touch Theo, of being able to lounge skin-to-skin under the sun, or kiss in the pool.
And to put my hands on him whenever and wherever I liked, because he was always as ready as a coiled spring.
We hadn’t said no to one another because we were in one long, constant state of yes.
But all good things had to come to an end. Theo sat opposite me on the terrace lounge set, gazing over his cup at me as he sipped the latte I’d made for him this morning. Like I’d made for him every morning this week. It was becoming dangerously close to feeling routine.
“I have to go, don’t I?” Theo asked quietly.
“If we don’t want our team principles to kick our asses, we both have to go, Teodoro.” I tried to keep my voice level. To be the older, sensible voice of reason as I had been for us so many times. But it was very hard.
“I’ve loved every minute of being with you,” said Theo.
“And I with you,” I replied. I ducked my head as I took a sip of my coffee, trying to level my expression. “I wish you wouldn’t talk like this is goodbye, mi amor.”
“You don’t want it to be a goodbye, to…us?” asked Theo.
“It can be whatever you want it to be, but you know it would break my heart if you thought this was a one-week fling. I have wanted you for a very long time, and this week hasn’t dulled that.”
“Oh,” it was Theo’s turn to duck his head.
I slid across the sofa to him and tilted his chin upward with one finger. “Do you want to carry this on, Teodoro?”
“More than anything,” he breathed. I leaned in to kiss him, and captured his lips with mine, savouring the warmth and taste of coffee on his tongue.
“Then we continue, as…partners,” I said, the word rolling off my tongue.
Theo’s breath ghosted over my lips. “Partners?” he asked. “Like…boyfriends?”
“Like boyfriends, yes,” I grinned, leaning forward to peck him twice on the lips again.
“And…would people know?” he asked.
“Have you ever hidden who you are?” I asked.
“Well, I’ve never really said it out loud. But I’d like people to know that we’re together,” Theo said. “I guess Magnus and Damian in your team led the way. It’s not so scary any more.”
“Let’s not tell the press then,” I said. “Let them figure it out. As long as we’re together.”
“We’re together. And I promise I won’t break up with you if you manage to win a race,” said Theo with a grin. He had put his coffee cup down and now was looping one hand around the back of my neck to pull me down on top of him, and my lips to him. “But if I win, I am going to be insufferable.”
“You already are, Teodoro,” I said. Before he could squawk an objection, I laid my weight on top of him and captured his mouth with mine. I wanted to enjoy every minute I had left with him here in this little slice of paradise.
Milan
Milan was a beautiful city, and there was always a buzz about it. Italians had a stereotype for wearing their hearts on their sleeves, and they always came out in full force. Especially for their home team, Alfa Romeo.
I walked out on stage to the roar of a thousand fans.
Many in burgundy for Alfa Romeo, but there were plenty of fans in black and white too.
I plastered on my biggest smile and waved to the gathered crowd.
Ginny Lewis, a former kart racer and very fantastic hype-woman, was stood off to one side on the stage.
An assistant hurried forward, put a microphone into my hand and then just as quickly disappeared.
Ginny turned her eyes to me, and beneath the smile, they were predatory. But I was prepared.
“Everyone, give a big cheer for our most recent race winner!” Ginny grinned as the crowd, which had lapsed into a dull roar, revved up again in appreciation for me. “How does it feel to be back on top of the podium?”
I chose my words diplomatically. “Well, it was not an easy start to the season. But I think I proved in Monaco that I am still very capable of winning, and that I still have a shot at the European Championship this year.”
“Does that mean you’ve got uncertainty in your future? The news that your contract hadn’t been renewed beyond Birmingham was a shock to us all.” Ginny held up a hand to quieten the booing and hissing that was running through the crowd, and I suppressed a grin.
“I had of course hoped of more time to prove myself this year. But that is the nature of racing, and I am looking forward to what the future holds.”
“So you don’t have a team lined up for next year?” asked Ginny. “Surely there are teams desperate to acquire you. I know I’d throw whatever money you asked for at a contract.”
She winked, and there were hollers and cheers from the audience. So there was her scoop.
“I’ve had…discussions,” I admitted. Once Theo had left my home and we had both returned to society, I discovered that my manager had lined up interviews with a few of the midfield and lower end teams.
“Discussions?” asked Ginny. “So the rumours about Dragon Racing are true?”
“I cannot possibly comment, Ginny. Tell me, who would you race for?”
She knew she’d get no further into the subject so diverted onto a tangent about her favourite racing teams, and I kept that same smile on my face until I exited the stage a couple of minutes later, for the next driver to have their moment in the sun.
I made my way into the race compound and into Remini’s hospitality suite, which had been built up in record time a couple of nights before.
It was air-conditioned inside, and in the offices upstairs there were dozens of race engineers and strategists buzzing around.
I was surprised to find the door to my own office slightly ajar.
Inside sat Frankie, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the sight of him.
I hadn’t spoken to him over our racing break, and I had no desire to speak much to him now.
Any resemblance of a relationship I had previously with him was to keep him and his father on my good side.
To keep me on the team. And I no longer had that motivation.
“What do you want, Frankie?” I asked.
It was only when I was met by an unexpected silence that I actually looked at him properly.
Looked right into his eyes. And realised that he looked…
contrite, I think the word was. Contrito in Spanish, but so many words were false friends between the two languages that I sometimes got them mixed up, even with years on the grid and a fading accent from all the international travel.
Either way, he was not his usual cocky self.
His posture was hunched, and he had pulled his legs up to his chest where he sat in my favourite office chair.
Are you alright, Frankie?” I asked. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“I’m sorry,” he started. “I…I always looked up to you.”
“You had a funny way of showing it,” I replied coldly. “I can tell you now that you have never been the kindest person.”
“I know. I’m an idiot.”
“What’s brought this on?” I asked. “You don’t need to talk to me. Or apologise. Your father has seen to it that I do not have a contract once we’re done in Europe.”
“But other teams want you, right?”
“Other teams want me. Dragon. Chevrolet. Teams who have not won a championship in a very long time, if ever. I’m not swimming in offers to join other teams of Remini’s calibre, if that is what you are asking.”
“Sorry,” said Frankie. Again. It was grating.
“So what are you doing here, If not coming to gloat?” I asked.
“I…I need a bit of advice. I don’t want to worry my pops, or the team. And I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about…”
“Just talk, Frankie.” I was a little short with him, but that was his own fault for always being a little shit up until now.
“Here.” He reached into his pocket and handed over an envelope. It was addressed to him at the hotel we were staying at. I pulled the letter from the envelope. Inside, cuttings from magazines and newspapers had been arranged to spell one simple sentence. I lOVe YoU frAnKIE.
I shivered. “Damn, that’s creepy.”
“I don’t want to tell my Dad. He’s always been overprotective, and he might pull me from the team,” Frankie said.
I laughed despite the severity of the situation.
“That’s your worry? We keep the hotels we stay in confidential.
You have yourself a stalker. I would worry more about that than your place on the team.
” I handed the letter back to him. “Talk to team management. Or your father. They can decide whether to involve local police or find a way to make you safe. Don’t sit on this and wait for it to get worse. ”
Frankie hesitated before stuffing the letter into his jeans pocket. “…OK. Thanks for the advice, Sebastian.” He stood up, for a second seemingly unsure of where he was going, and then headed for the door. “I really am sad to see you go. Sorry I was such a twat.”
Twat sounded so funny in his American accent that I couldn’t keep up the frown. “Learned that one from your new British teammate?” I joked.
Frankie just gave a half-hearted shrug and closed the door behind him.