Chapter 21
Fia
After a month, the press forgot about Zoltán’s little slip-up, detailing that he was in some form of relationship. He went from being hounded by reporters, from other racers being asked about his relationship status, to peace and quiet.
We were careful. I was his translator.
It wasn’t surprising for me to be there with him, flying with him, calling him.
And when we had our helmets on — Zolt gifted me my own dirt bike — and were racing, we were allowed to be in public. The pub in Serbia also seemed to be a safe place, where he’d dangle his arm on the back of my chair, and his godfather would grin.
Everything was on the up until I damaged my wrist on the rocks, trying to show off.
Zolt had gone into immediate protector mode, and though I was sure it was just bruised, he took me straight to the hospital.
It had twisted, and I wasn’t going to ride for a while.
Back at work, I received question after question, where Everly scowled at Imre, not believing my excuse of falling down the stairs.
I tried to make it believable.
So in the next break, I stayed at Zolt’s, and we didn’t trek into Serbia.
He doted on me, serving me breakfast, lunch, and dinner in bed until I nearly exploded out of boredom.
Since my nagyi had come round, he’d had lots of plants delivered for me to put in his garden.
The weather had been awful for our last couple of visits, and I was eager to get out there, even just to see how my other plants had grown.
But as soon as I’d gone to get out, a mysterious guest had arrived, with medical equipment. I didn’t hide from Zolt or eavesdrop, but I followed at a distance as they went up to our room.
I didn’t like the idea of another woman in there.
Our sheets were a mess from that morning, and I’d thought it was weird when Zolt had opened the windows. But it was because he knew this lady was coming.
She came out after a minute, smiled politely at me, and said, “He’s all yours in an hour.”
An hour? He was all mine, always.
So I opened the door as she went down the stairs and saw him in a rocking chair, balcony doors open, watching the rain.
“What are you doing, grandpa?” I laughed.
He looked over his shoulder. “I thought you were gardening— oh. Of course.” He waved his arm at the rain. Then frowned. “Grandpa? It would be Daddy to you.”
I sat on the edge of the bed, just behind him. “What’s this?”
“Some experimental drip,” he said. “They help with my headaches. Or it’s a placebo, I’m still not sure.”
Experimental? I didn’t remember anything about that in his report. Who had approved that?
“But I feel much better on them. I have more energy.”
“I have zapped some of that from you,” I sighed, feigning guilt.
He laughed and leaned back in the chair to kiss me briefly. “I’m not complaining.”
“What else is there in your therapy?”
He shrugged and looked back out at the rain. “Swimming. I haven’t swum in a while. And then the sauna.”
“We could go swimming,” I said, but he grunted.
“You in a bikini might just drown me.”
“Because I’d take your breath away?”
“Exactly.” He patted his lap. “Come and sit on Daddy’s lap.”
That shouldn’t thrill me, but I did as I was told, catching a glimpse of his phone before he locked it. His screensaver was a very zoomed-in picture of my throat with his hand around it from the motel, in black and white. That wasn’t new, but it made me smile every time.
It wasn’t what filled me with happiness deep in my chest. “Are you… Are you practising your English?”
He stiffened beneath me, and not his cock, his whole body. “No.”
“Yes, you are!” I laughed. “I saw it. The app. Do you want me out of the job?”
His expression became serious, his brows low. “Of course not. No. You’re staying here forever.”
I burrowed myself into his shoulder, careful not to disturb the drip. “True.”
He wrapped his arm around me and started to rock us back and forth. The gentle patter of the rain on the balcony, the grey clouds, and his heartbeat underneath me were so calming that I didn’t want to look at my phone when it chimed.
“Is that your other boyfriend?” Zolt joked. “Is that why you won’t look at it in front of me?”
I snorted, even if my heart snagged on the phrase ‘other boyfriend.’ Was Zolt my boyfriend? Had I missed that conversation? If he thought he was my boyfriend, did that mean he was?
And if he wasn’t, what else would he be?
I pulled my phone out, already knowing by the sound it had been an email. One I had been expecting.
LIVIE ARMAS to KINGSTON UNIVERSITY TRANSLATION PROGRAMME; ZSóFIA BACQUE.
SUBJECT: Zsófia Bacque (SN: 2023789) Placement Report 1.
Good morning,
Please find attached Zsófia’s glowing report as well as some clips of her experience, which I know will impress you.
I wanted to add, as there is nowhere in the report form to detail this, that Zsófia has gone above and beyond in every respect of her job.
We do not see her as a temporary placement; we see her as a permanent member of our team and are blessed to have her.
Her professionalism, her knowledge of the sport, and her personable skills make her the perfect translator that any team would be grateful to employ.
She’s the best intern we have ever had and has worked with our PR team effortlessly and with consistent enthusiasm.
If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact me.
Best,
Livie Armas
“Wow,” Zolt said in my ear before pressing a kiss to it. “From what I see, that’s a good report.”
I clicked on the file to see that she had given me ‘exemplary’ on every section.
Things were back on the up.
“I did it!” I cried, turning to him with a breathless smile. “I mean, I’m doing it.”
“Why did you ever doubt yourself, silly?”
“I don’t… I just did. I just… wow. I’m doing it, Zoltán. I’m a translator.”
“You still don’t look like one,” he joked, cocking his head to the side to look me over. “More like a supermodel.”
I slapped his arm lightly and cuddled back into him. “I’m doing it.”
“Of course you are,” he laughed and stroked my hair with his free hand. “If I have to fuck the confidence back into you once this is off me, I will, Fia.”
I curled back up in his lap, and he started to rock us again, kissing my hair.
I read through the thorough report. Livie had almost written an essay for each of the seven sections. The likelihood was that by the time of my second and final report, she would have just had her baby, so she’d told me she was planning on reusing a lot of this one.
With what she’d put, I was definitely okay with that.
Once I’d read it and watched the clips — the entire press conference, a montage of moments from interviews — I locked my phone and was almost drifting to sleep when Zolt spoke.
“Fia,” he said softly into my ear, the vibration of his words flowing through my cheek. “I love you, you know.”
I stilled, the soothing rocking anchoring me in his safe hold. Slowly, I looked up at him, feeling the tears brimming.
I did know. There hadn’t been a sudden change at any point.
But he also hadn’t loved me since our first meeting — it had grown, but the warm buzz deep within my soul whenever he was around, the smile I found so easily around him, the way I sought him out in every room… he was mine as much as I was his.
The bang at the door jolted us out of our euphoria.
“That’ll be the nurse,” he said, lifting his arm with the drip. “Sooner she gets this off me, sooner I get to work on your confidence.”
I laughed and went downstairs. With every step, my head chanted ‘Zolt loves me,’ trying to let it sink in. He loved me. This would undoubtedly cause us more problems, because I explicitly knew, now that I’d heard the words… I wasn’t going to be able to let this go.
But I was going to live in the dappled sunlight in the humid forest of our love until the very last second. We were growing at such a steady rate, I wanted to stay in our cocoon forever and blossom when we were unshakable.
Even if he already thought he was my boyfriend.
My boyfriend loves me.
Vincent raced me down the stairs. He was the youngest of the pack, the biggest baby, and my new shadow. Or as Zolt liked to call him, a ‘Mummy’s boy.’
He beat me to the door, more excitable than I expected, but we were yet to walk them.
I tried to guide him away from the door. “Mummy will walk you as soon as the rain stops—”
But it wasn’t the nurse on Zoltán’s porch.
It was Imre and Zolt’s mother.
And that dappled sunlight faded by a threatening storm cloud overhead.
Imre blinked, then frowned. “What are you doing here, Fia?”
The rain was a downpour behind them, and it was only when looking at the fat droplets hitting the ground that I realised they had a suitcase with them.
“Uh, come in,” I said, and got out of their way. Vincent made a run for the rain, and I called him back before shutting us all inside what had been my safe cocoon a minute ago.
My heart was racing. I looked down at myself. I was in black leggings and a tiny crop top. I’d had a quarter zip fleece ready to throw on and cover in soil when I got to my plants.
This was not workwear. And, fuck, Zolt had taken my bra off on the sofa last night.
“Fia?” Imre asked again.
I stepped back towards the sofa, trying not to trip up on Vincent, who was always more eager than the others.
“We—we were just running an interview through,” I blurted.
Not confessing our love for each other. Not fucking all night. Not confirming our relationship as anything other than step-siblings.
“Oh?” his mum asked. “When is that for? I didn’t know another was coming up.”
“It’s next week,” I lied, leaning against the back of the sofa, running my hand behind the back cushions as subtly as I could manage.
“Zolt,” I called up the stairs. “Your mum’s here!” I turned to her. “Um, he’s… he’s having his drip.”
Her eyes widened. “While you’re in a meeting?”
“It’s a big interview. It needs a lot of prep. I’m here— I’m here for a couple of days. Derek was here. His nurse was here. He…”
Fuck. She could not go up there. My pyjamas were on the bed. My toiletries were all over the ensuite. My dressing gown was against the door. Zolt had opened the windows to get rid of the stench of sex, but…
And he couldn’t really move to clean up the room, could he?
Oh fuck. We were about to be found out.
I couldn’t talk for the lump in my throat.
“Well, we need to ask him if we can stay for the night,” Imre sighed and put down the handle of his suitcase. “We’ve had a burst pipe. The ground floor is flooded. Probably all of this rain we’ve had.”
“Zoltán?” his mum called, starting to walk up the stairs.
One step. Two steps.
Fuck, Fia, say something. Anything.
“Actually, Helena, I was wondering if — do you have any tampons on you?”
My face heated, Imre coughed in uncomfortable shock, and she turned with a soft, surprised smile. “Well, I don’t know. I might have a panty liner in my bag?”
She walked back down the two steps, and I started to breathe again.
I couldn’t relax yet. I went to the next cushion in my search.
She went to her handbag she’d ditched by the door beside her umbrella, and started to rifle through it.
“Zoltán,” I cried up the stairs again, my voice breaking with sheer panic. “Your mum is here!” Please hear me, please hear me. Please.
Imre picked up his phone and started groaning about the pipe. It sounded bad. He was going to be under Zolt’s roof with us for a while. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. And Zolt was still nowhere to be seen.
Helena stopped rummaging and sighed, “I don’t think I have—”
“No worries! I’ll check with Zolt, maybe his ex left some stuff here or… who knows, hey?” I could feel my deep breaths expelling as I spoke.
And, with one look over the sofa to spy if it was bra-free, I dashed up the stairs.
I was going to cry. My face burned, my heart raced, and I needed Zolt to rock me back to a world where our love was simple, and his mum wasn’t across the hallway.
I shut our bedroom door and pressed myself up against it, collecting myself. Zolt turned around, taking a headphone out of his ear. “You okay?”
“No!” I whisper-cried, at his side within four strides, and pulled the other headphone out. “Your mum and Imre are here, and they want to stay the night!”
He frowned up at me. “Huh?”
“They’ve had a leak,” I explained, making the bed in a hurry — well, throwing the duvet up to meet the pillows. “So they want to stay here.”
“Fuck,” he said and pulled the needle out of his arm.
“Oi!” I cried, pulling my dressing gown off the door with more strength than I should. “If that’s been prescribed, you need every last drop!”
“What did you tell them?” he asked and pulled on a top from his half of the wardrobe.
“We’re prepping for an interview.”
He stopped, his head half poking out of the hole in his top. “That excuse will last one day.”
“Then I’ll have to go home.”
“No,” he said, the top on now. He reached for me, taking my hand. “You don’t have to go. Why don’t we just say you’re arguing with your sister, so you’re here for a few days between races? And you’re teaching me English?”
I chewed on my lip. Whatever decisions we made had to be made now. “Okay. I’ll grab my stuff and move across the hall.”
“I like knowing you’re here in my bed,” he said, stroking my cheek. “I’ll take the guest room.”
“That’s weird!”
“I am weird.”
No arguments there.
“They’ll see right through it,” I argued. My breathing picked up again, my chest pressing against his with each heave. “They’ll see right through us.”
He brushed my hair back. “At worst, they’ll see that I might have a little crush on you.
But when they lived here before, they mostly got on with their own things.
I’ll take Imre out to try and find some parts for the leak.
You and my mum can bond. Then we’ll get a takeaway, and you can feign a migraine. Early bedtime.”
I breathed through pursed lips, and he continued to stroke my hair.
“I know you’re not ready to tell them,” he said. “But we will one day. And I’ll be beside you every step of the way.”
I nodded, and he took my hand. “We’ve got this, Fia.”
“Okay.”
And, true to his word, he threw on some shoes and a coat — I shouldn’t find him wearing a coat cute, but it gave serious Dad vibes — and he took Imre out to the shop, leaving me with his beautiful mother.