Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
??MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA
T he Australian Grand Prix was as important to Rowan as the British one for the sole reason that it was his home race.
He dreamed of brandishing the winner’s trophy high in the air. Dreamed of being sprayed with champagne. Dreamed of finally proving everyone wrong.
But his dream was interrupted by the sound of his door opening.
Rowan turned around in his bed, the sheets rustling with his movements as he nestled in the warmth and comfort of the blanket.
“Get out, Tate,” he mumbled into his pillow.
“Not Tate. Try again.”
The echo of her honeyed voice was akin to a soft caress on the shell of his ear, yet his senses instantly heightened at the realisation that Avery was in his hotel room.
He released a small grunt and pulled the blanket up to his chin, keeping his eyes closed.
“Get out.”
“It’d be my pleasure,” she responded grimly. “But we have stuff to do today.”
He braced his forearm over his eyes, suppressing a frustrated groan. “What kind of stuff?”
He listened to her footfalls as she walked further into the room, and to the sound of the curtains sliding open. He was expecting a bright ray of sunshine to filter inside the room, but all he could see was darkness.
“Don’t fall back asleep,” Avery demanded in that firm tone of hers that had the power to irritate him.
“What time is it?” He could hear the fatigue laced into his hoarse voice. Even his body was tired. All he needed was rest, not an infuriating woman trying to pull him out of bed.
Perhaps he should attempt to pull her in between his bed sheets and—
“Almost five thirty.”
“Five? In the morning? ”
She sighed softly. “Yes. I’m just as delighted as you, trust me.”
After a few minutes during which he stretched himself and took the time to fully wake up, he opened his eyes only to see Avery’s silhouette standing before the large window, her gaze fixated on the horizon where the sun was barely starting to rise.
He knew his vision was still hazy, but at that exact moment, the contour of her profile was ethereal. She was ethereal. Button nose. Pouty, full lips. Long, ebony hair flowing down her back. He wondered if her locks were soft, if her skin was—
Rowan had to blink several times to make sure she wasn’t a trick of his imagination. To bring himself back to reality.
He propped himself on his elbows. “What kind of activity requires us to wake up this early on an off day? Are you aware you’ve just interrupted my beauty sleep?”
“Save the whining for later,” she snapped. “We’re filming content for this week’s YouTube video.”
“This should be illegal.”
“Get up, princess . We need to get going.”
“Where are you even taking me?”
“Somewhere.”
He groaned, irritated. What a terrible way to start the day. “It better be worth it. Like, first date worthy.”
“It’s not a date.”
He pouted, though she didn’t bother sparing a glance his way. “I’m sad now.”
“Are you going to move, or what?”
“Nope.” He put his hands behind his head and grinned through the dark. She was still not looking at him, and he felt a desperate need to catch her attention. “If you’re too lazy to leave, you can just join me and spend the day here. The bed’s big enough for both of us. Can’t promise I’ll stay on my side of the bed, though. I like snuggles.”
That was a lie. Rowan wasn’t even sure he liked embraces—especially the kind that flickered inside his mind and instantly vanished. He’d never been used to being affectionate with the women he hooked up with. A rapid hug with his friends was fine in his opinion, but one that held more intimacy was just something he refused to experience.
She shook her head, evidently unfazed by his remark. “You’re such a pain in the ass.”
“I can turn the pain into pleasure, love. I promise I’ll be gentle at first.”
Finally, she turned. He wished he could see the shock, and distaste, and annoyance flaring around her pupils. Wished he could see the blush painting her cheekbones.
“I wonder if you’re aware of how annoying you are,” she grunted before coming to stand at the foot of the bed. Without warning, she pulled the cover off of Rowan’s body, causing goosebumps to rise across his skin.
“Fucking hell,” he exclaimed, falling on his back after a failed attempt at grabbing the blanket back. “What if I were naked? You’d have seen my dick in the air.”
“Gosh, Rowan. Don’t make this harder for me than it already is. Just get out of bed. The others are waiting.”
Fuck her. Fuck Primavera. Fuck the entire marketing team for always wanting to film content at the most ungodly hours. Rowan really needed to rest because had spent the last three days in Brisbane with his family before flying to Melbourne to join the racing team.
“Fine.” Begrudgingly, he sat up and rubbed his face. “I hate you so much.”
“Feeling’s mutual, honey.”
She went to open the window to let fresh air inside, but all he could smell was her sweet fragrance.
He put his feet on the floor and sighed. “You, sunflower, are the absolute loveliest at dawn.”
“Thanks,” she deadpanned. Then, her voice softened, its delicacy feeding his soul. “Come on. We’ll get coffee on the way.”
“Oat latte?”
“Of course.”
“Here’s your coffee, sir.”
Grabbing both cups from Avery’s hands, he let a smug smirk touch his lips as she climbed back into the driver’s seat. Somehow, her fragrance managed to overpower the scent of freshly brewed coffee, but only for a flickering heartbeat because he didn’t allow himself to be distracted by this maddening woman.
When they left the hotel and walked towards the car that was assigned to them for the day, she had asked if he wanted to, perhaps, drive. He’d said no with a grunt, that he was too tired, and had begged her not to crash. All he had received in return was a scowl.
Placing the cups in the holders in the console between them, he asked, “What’s your coffee order?”
He had realised, as she had gone inside the café, that he knew so little of Avery whereas she knew so much about him.
The wave of awareness had stirred an uncanny feeling inside his chest.
“Black,” she responded, zipping her Primavera Racing jumper. With the morning haze still clearing from the sky, the breeze was crisp and chilly. “With one sugar.”
“Like your heart?”
She glared at him. “Like your soul.”
He grinned. “True.”
As she ignited the car, Rowan scrolled through his playlists to find uplifting songs to scream at the top of his lungs, hoping he’d find a sliver of energy by hearing his favourite melodies.
“Where are the others?” He decided to play 2000s music, observing how a small smile spread across Avery’s features when Sex on Fire started echoing.
The more he spent time with her and got to know her, the more he felt strangely drawn towards her. He’d finally met a woman with similar musical taste.
“Already en route.”
He settled his gaze on the road when she finally exited the parking lot. “Why didn’t we go with them?”
“That’s a funny story.” She reached to the console to grab her cup of coffee. “So, apparently, it’s bothering everyone on the team that we keep trying to rip out each other’s throats when we’re not in the media pen, so Simon forced me to spend the day with you.”
“Ah, shit,” he mumbled. “So, it is a date.”
“I’m going to start thinking you want to take me out.”
He scoffed. “You wish.”
“I don’t.”
Rowan cradled his cup and watched the sky painted in orange create a beautiful canvas before his eyes. Adjusting the brim of his cap, he asked, curious, “Will you get in trouble?”
“For what?” A subtle frown touched her brows before she took a sip of coffee. “For firing back at you? I don’t think so.”
“For being here with me,” he clarified, putting his elbow on the console. “Alone. You know, Nikki and her rules?”
“Oh.”
She was silent for a moment.
He hated the way Nikki always talked to Avery.
Seeing Avery so powerless made his chest crack wide open, allowing misplaced anger to flow through his veins, seeping until his bones burned. He hated that too, because he couldn’t fathom why he was letting himself be so affected by her situation.
He shouldn’t care.
He didn’t care.
“Nikki doesn’t have a say when it comes to Sophie’s or Simon’s decisions,” she said, tone clipped. “She only supervises my work, our team. So, if Simon tells me I must be stuck with you for an entire day, I guess that’s my destiny, and she can’t do anything about it. Besides, our little field trip is for work.”
“And when are you going to stand up to her?”
Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “Why would I do that?”
“Maybe because she treats you like shit?”
“And why do you care?”
“I don’t,” he bit out. “But Avery… She’s a bitch to you.”
He glanced in her direction to watch her swallow thickly. “She’s technically my boss when Sophie’s not around. She just wants everything to be perfect. Being hard on me is her way of doing her job.”
There was a difference between being hard on their employee to ensure a good result and being mean for no valid reason. Avery didn’t see it—or at least stayed in the shadow of denial—and it was unnerving.
“You could talk to HR about her behaviour.”
She sighed. “But I won’t.”
“Why? Sorry, but I’m just trying to understand why you’re letting her boss you around like this. Sure, she might be your superior or whatever the fuck she’s supposed to be, but it doesn’t justify her words and actions.”
“I don’t want to cause any trouble. I just—I love working on this team, okay? The last thing I need is to get fired because it’ll always be Nikki’s words against mine. I get along with everyone, have a good position, and I’m doing what I love. I’m not going to let Nikki ruin this for me.”
A scoff rose from the back of Rowan’s throat when he tipped his head back. He tightened his jaw, unclenched it, and exhaled. “You’re too good. Too nice.”
A beat passed. “You’re saying it like it’s a bad thing. You’re saying it like it’s the exact reason why you can’t stand me.”
“Maybe it is,” he snapped back, instantly regretting his words. He sighed, turning to look at her. “I just meant, that you’re nice even to people who tear you apart. I don’t understand why you keep doing that to yourself.”
Avery shook her head. “I’m just like that, Rowan. I’m not like you, who tells stupid people to fuck off like you sometimes do with some journalists.”
“That’s a bummer because I know you can stand up for yourself. You have no trouble fighting me.”
Silence.
“Besides,” he continued after sipping his hot beverage, “I think you’re decent. You keep up with my shit, work hard, and have good banter. It’s fun.”
“Wow,” she droned. “Keep the flattery coming. I didn’t expect you to throw so many compliments at me after being awoken so early.”
He crooked a small smile. “I can insult you if you’d prefer.”
“I’m good.” They stopped at a red light and their gazes collided. He was suddenly hypnotised by the rising sun’s light shining upon her face. “You’re not too bad yourself.”
He grinned, and her gaze flickered to his dimple. “I’m glad that we’re always on the same wavelength, sunflower.”
He emerged from the cold water, grinning like a devil with the feeling of sun rays beating down on him. Shaking his head before pushing his wet strands of hair away from his forehead, he turned to look at Thiago who was trying to keep balance on his surfboard.
Today’s activity consisted of surfing. When Avery had parked the car near the beach where some members of the marketing team along with Thiago were already waiting, Rowan had almost embraced her. Happy to finally catch some waves. Delighted to be home.
Thiago fell once again in the ocean, emerging to the surface with a grunt rising from the back of his throat. “How do you do it?”
“It’s in my blood, babe.” Rowan grinned, adjusting the strap of the little camera attached to his torso.“Just accept the fact you can’t be good at everything you do.”
“Fuck you and your Australian genes,” his teammate grumbled from afar.
Rowan laughed loudly. “Stop being petty.”
As Thiago tried to surf another wave, determined to improve his skills, Rowan got out of the water, pulling the board with him.
Further in the water, Tate and Cal were surfing as well.
Whilst Eliott and the content creators for the team were discussing the next sequence they would shoot, Rowan slipped his gaze towards Avery. He wasn’t sure why he was looking for her in a crowded place. Wasn’t sure why he felt so drawn towards her today.
With her jeans rolled up to her shins, she let the water lap at her feet. Other people would memorise this scenery by taking a picture, but Avery was observing the ocean and the waves crawling gently to the shore, allowing the sun to shine softly upon her already bronze skin.
Rowan unzipped his wetsuit and looked away, but before he could even settle his gaze on something else, he looked back at her.
At Avery and her dark curls flowing down her back.
At Avery, laughing quietly when a rugby ball landed a few metres away from where she stood.
At Avery, who ran towards the ball, grabbed it, and threw it back to the group of teenage boys.
And when she turned around, their gazes clashed, her features softened for a rapid heartbeat before she blinked and walked towards the small blanket she had laid on the sand.
Rowan wanted to run up to her and annoy her. Perhaps by shaking his wet hair on her. Or by picking up the book she had been busy reading whilst he was shooting content for the YouTube channel.
There wasn’t a single person in the world he loved annoying more than Avery.
“Don’t even think about it.” Tate’s comment was followed by a harsh slap on the back of Rowan’s head, causing him to grumble and pivot, catching his friend in a headlock.
“I wasn’t thinking of anything.”
“Exactly,” Tate muttered, kicking Rowan’s shin. “You cannot think straight whenever you’re around her.”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
Rowan was a professional race car driver, but he was also a professional at hiding his true feelings.
“Do you want something?”
Avery jumped with a start, slightly startled by his presence and voice.
He snickered—she was so easily scared. He wondered if she ever watched horror movies. Probably not.
“I’m just looking.” She still refused to meet his eyes, causing slight frustration to flare through his vessels.
Leaning in, Rowan aimed his finger at the corner of her mouth. “You’re drooling.”
“I’m not,” she retorted, batting his hand away. “But these pastries look delicious.”
As he was busy wrapping the day up, she had gone across the street to look at the shops lining the avenue. He had almost left with Thiago, Tate, and Cal, but remembered she had been asked to spend the entire day with him. He assumed that rule applied to him as well, so he forced himself to find her.
She wasn’t hard to find, anyway. Standing in front of the vitrine of a bakery, ogling at the pastries the way he would look at watches or supercars. Standing there, under the amber glow of the sun, shoulders bare and curls untamed caused by the rustle of the wind.
“Do you like lemon meringue tarts?” he asked, surprising himself at the question escaping his thoughts.
She hummed, nodding. “Love them.”
“Okay.”
Without even shrugging his shirt on as he let the piece of clothing hang on his shoulder, he stepped inside the bakery, ignoring the perplexed gaze Avery threw his way.
“Howdy howdy,” he chirped with a grin at the elderly lady. “Sorry for my attire, I’ll be quick. Can I just get a slice of lemon tart, please? And a fork with it, if you have one.”
The lady smiled softly. “Sure thing, honey. Take away then?”
He nodded and dug into his pocket to grab his wallet. “Please.”
He paid the moment he had Avery’s dessert, his smile not once faltering even when he bid farewell to the kind owner of the bakery.
Avery gaped at him, arms crossed over her chest, her gaze first landing on the box in his hand before travelling up his torso which was still slightly damp. Her perusal became slow, heady in a way that made his heartbeat pick its pace up. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay focused on the way her expression shifted from hostility to pure surprise, instead of looking at her pushed-up breasts or the rest of her alluring physique.
He extended the box towards her. “Here.”
She arched a brow. “Why?”
“Why not?”
“Did you hit your head or something?” She eyed the box warily.
“Oh, come on. I did not poison it. I would have already attempted to get rid of you weeks ago if I really wanted you gone.”
“Evermore the sweetest person I know,” she said sardonically, brows high.
Rowan chuckled, remembering he’d said those exact words to her when he had dropped her off after spending the evening in a pub. “Just accept it. I want to head back to the hotel as soon as we can, and you, staring at the pastries for ages, won’t get us anywhere.”
“How much was it?”
“You’re not paying me back.”
She chewed the inside of her cheek, peering up at him with those wide, doe eyes. “But…”
“I won’t accept it.”
A subtle line drew between her bunched brows. “What do you want from me? You can’t make me quit by buying me food.”
“I’m not trying to bribe you,” he said. “You still think I want you gone after everything?”
“I don’t know what you want, Rowan. One moment you’re a total bellend and the next you’re being… nice.”
“I’m a nice man,” he countered. “In fact, I’m a gentleman.”
“I could argue with you on that.”
Rowan scoffed, ignoring her remark. “Do me a favour and accept this. Take it as a token of peace.”
Begrudgingly, she took hold of the box, her eyes shining as if a pool of starlight had started brimming the edges of her dark irises. “Thank you.”
Rowan crooked a small smile. “You’re welcome. Do you want to eat it now or save it for later?”
“Now,” she said, excitedly.
God, had she always been this cute?
“Come on.” He led her towards a bench with a direct view of the beach and the peaceful ocean. “So, is food the key to your heart?”
Avery sat down, placing a thigh atop the other as she opened the box. A great distance separated them, but he draped his arm over the back of the bench, keeping his focus on the waves.
“Why? Are you trying to find your way inside my heart?”
Rowan snorted, shaking his head. “I bet it’s a labyrinth to get there.”
He saw a shrug of her shoulders from the corner of his eye. “Maybe. I think it’s easy access if you know the right path from the start.”
He wondered if she guarded her heart as thoroughly as he did. Certainly not. It was easy to glimpse at her soul and its light. It was easy to see how good of a person she was. That didn’t mean everything, though. Rowan was the first person to know that.
Rowan whistled softly to call a cat that had been wandering on the sidewalk. He wiggled his fingers to attract the animal, feeling sparks of joy when it approached.
“I didn’t take you for a cat person,” Avery noted amusedly.
He found her gaze, narrowing his eyes. “Why? Because I have tattoos? Cats love me.”
“Congratulations. At least some creatures appreciate you.”
“Brat,” he muttered. “Do you like cats?”
A smile illuminated her features, and he felt his heart stop. “I do. But my dad is allergic to them, so I wasn’t allowed to have one. And now, Gabe, my roomie—”
“I remember him.”
Despite the warm tone of her skin, it was evident his comment had made her blush. “Right. Well, he travels as much as I do, so no cat. Maybe in another life.”
A satisfied hum vibrated in her throat when she took the first bite from the pastry. He couldn’t help but stare at her, like he was mystified. She had tipped her head back, eyes closed, a soft smile on her lips.
“So good.”
Rowan could feel his heart batter erratically when his finger accidentally brushed her bare shoulder blade. Regardless of the featherlight touch, she didn’t react, too enthralled by the tart in her hands, but he couldn’t ignore the tingles dancing on his fingertips.
“I’m glad,” he murmured.
She shifted to face him. “Do you want a bite?”
Rowan’s mouth twisted in a grimace as he dropped his gaze to the dessert. “I’m not the biggest meringue fan.”
Her scoff was rightfully outraged. “That’s scandalous, Rowan. You haven’t had good meringue before then.”
He shrugged. “Probably.”
“What’s your favourite dessert?”
“Pecan pie. Mum’s, specifically.”
Her brows shot up, expression soft and eyes shining with happiness. That sight caused something uncanny to happen inside his chest: a sensation of flutters, like birds batting their wings, demanding to be set free from this tormenting cage that was his impenetrable heart. “I love pecan pie.”
He smiled broadly. “Hers is the best.”
“How, uh.” She cleared her throat after taking a bite, rapidly glancing away. “How was your visit home?”
Unconsciously, his jaw tightened, and he looked back at the horizon. A lump started barricading his airway, and he swallowed it before it could affect his tone or voice. “It was fine.”
She hadn’t noticed the shift in his mood yet. Rowan hated how he was instantly shutting himself down, but he couldn’t help it.It was as though a wall would immediately build itself to protect him at the mere mention of his family.
It was a sensitive subject, one he hated talking about. One he avoided at all costs.
Besides, he wasn’t certain about Avery’s motives behind her kindness. Her curiosity sounded genuine, though, and he didn’t know how to proceed with the attention brought on him. The general act of goodness.
“Your family is coming to the race, right?”
“Yes,” he answered coldly. Perhaps she would take a hint if he kept his responses dry and brief.
“Are you excited?”
Avery was so sweet.
And he was a man building a castle around him. A man shrouded in darkness hidden by that colourful veil he offered to the world.
He was a broken man who refused to let her in. If she saw all those shattered pieces within him, all those parts no one had deemed worthy of fixing, she would want to turn around, and it would destroy him even more.
“Fuck, why do you care?” he snapped harshly. “Why do you have to ask so many questions?”
He counted too many heartbeats before her reply came, quiet. “I won’t ask anything anymore. I’m sorry.”
Rowan inhaled deeply, raking his fingers through his hair before rubbing his face and turning towards her. “That’s not what I meant.”
She had closed the box with the almost untouched slice of tart inside, hurt etched on her expression. “It’s exactly what you meant, and you’re right. I shouldn’t be caring or asking anything about your personal life.”
“Damn it, Avery. That’s—”
“Never mind.” She stood up, her shoulders tense, her voice wavering. “It was dumb of me to think we could finally get along, but obviously, you prefer being a dick instead of trusting me. It’s whatever. You were right earlier—I’m too good and too nice. This”—she gestured to him, evidently referring to his reaction—“is what I get for wanting to be a good person.”
“Avery—”
“Let’s get back to the hotel. You need to rest.”
As she walked away, Rowan felt like drowning in an ocean of guilt. For the first time in years, he regretted his words and actions. Avery didn’t deserve his anger. He was desperate to do anything to be able to go back in time. Give her a chance. Find a sliver of courage inside his gut to trust her, because she was a trustworthy person. He trusted her with her work, so would it hurt to let her further in?
As he watched her silhouette walk away, he decided he’d give it to her, no matter what it would take for her to understand he wanted to be forgiven.