SEVENTEEN
I WAKE UP FIRST, though it takes me a few moments to process where I am, in a curtain-less room with a view of trees and Leif asleep beside me, one arm flung above his head as his chest rises and falls in a smooth, steady rhythm.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. I had zero intention of staying the night, but we got carried away playing video games.
Then, once we realized it was past midnight, he offered me a sleeping bag and mat to place alongside his.
He was a total gentleman, presenting me with a brand-new toothbrush, towel and oversized T-shirt to sleep in.
He didn’t even try to kiss me goodnight, although he did offer me s’mores and a hot chocolate, both of which I declined because, as it turned out, once I put my controller down, I was really tired.
Now it’s daylight again, I prop myself up on one elbow to look at him.
Ironically, this is the closest I’ve ever come to sleeping with a man, although there’s still a good metre of space between us.
Leif’s features are completely relaxed in sleep and the lower half of his face is covered in a thick layer of stubble.
He looks so rumpled and dishevelled. I feel a powerful urge to wriggle out of my sleeping bag and slide into his.
The morning air is cool and it would be so cosy to snuggle into the circle of his arms.
The morning is a bright electric blue, so I slide the balcony door open and slip outside.
The view is just as impressive as it was yesterday evening, with the tops of the trees swaying gently in the breeze, while the rivers of the fens are like ribbons of silver in the distance.
I feel like a bird, surveying the world around me, letting all my worries float away.
‘You’re up early.’
I look over my shoulder to find Leif standing in the doorway, dressed in a white T-shirt and boxers.
‘Am I?’ I realize I have absolutely no idea what time it is. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ He comes to stand behind me, placing his hands on the railing on either side of my waist. ‘You look good first thing in the morning.’
‘So do you.’ I smile as he props his chin on my shoulder. His breath is warm and he smells musky in a good way. One that makes me want to sink back against him. Or turn around and carry on where we left off in the gym … My blood heats at the idea.
‘What are you thinking about?’ His voice vibrates against my skin.
I open my mouth and then close it again because I get the feeling he knows exactly what effect he’s having. ‘Only that this would be a great shot for your Instagram.’
‘It would.’ His lips skim the side of my neck, a feather-light touch that shoots lightning straight to my core. ‘But it’s not happening.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because some things are too personal to share. I want to keep this just for us.’
I can’t resist any more. I turn and slide my hands up and around his neck so that I’m pressed flush up against him.
The communications officer in me wants to object to his answer.
The rest of me thinks it’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.
Now that he’s said it, I want to keep this just for us too.
There’s a moment of stillness when our eyes meet. Then he lowers his head, tilting it slightly as I push myself up on my toes.
Part of me was afraid our second kiss couldn’t possibly live up to the first, and yet it’s even better.
We go from zero to a hundred in under a second, our tongues tangling and clashing as we each try to get more of the other.
A pulse thumps between my legs as my back meets the railing.
I kiss him passionately, rifling my hands through his hair while his sweep upwards, gripping the sides of my ribcage and then curving around my breasts, bringing my nipples to points.
It feels so good, I can’t resist pushing myself even closer against him …
‘Ava …’ He murmurs, and then pulls back abruptly, twisting his face to one side for a few seconds. ‘Are you hungry?’
‘What?’ My breath catches in my throat. I’m so disorientated, I can’t process the question.
‘Are you ready for breakfast?’
‘Breakfast?’ I stare at him blankly. ‘Leif, what just happened?’
‘Nothing.’ He moves closer again, pressing his forehead to mine. ‘But if you want to take this slowly, then we need to do something else right now.’
‘Oh.’ I swallow, then consult my stomach and smile. ‘In that case, breakfast sounds good. Can I help?’
‘No, but you can watch. Come on.’ He reaches for my hand, tugging me after him back into the house. ‘I’ll cook, you relax.’
‘That sounds even better.’
‘How about waffles?’ he asks, when we reach the kitchen.
‘Um …’ I make a face, remembering his last attempt.
‘Hey! I’ve been practising.’
‘Well, in that case I’d love some.’ I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s 6.15 a.m. ‘But I’d better get going soon. I need to go home and change before work, and I don’t want to be late.’
‘I could always tell Vienna I need you here.’ He waggles his eyebrows at me.
‘She’s smarter than that.’ I slide myself up on to one of the counters. ‘OK if I sit here?’
His gaze slips down from my face to my exposed thigh, his pupils dilating before he looks away and coughs. ‘It’s perfect. Orange juice?’
‘Please.’
‘Coming up.’ He opens the fridge door and pulls out a tub of what looks like batter, along with a carton of juice.
‘You made dough in advance?’ I look between him and the tub in surprise.
‘I’ve been practising a lot . And I remembered how much you liked them, so I thought … Just in case.’ He smiles sheepishly as he plugs in a waffle iron and then hands me the juice. ‘Here. You first.’
‘Thanks.’ I take a few gulps before handing it back and running my tongue along my bottom lip. ‘Your turn.’
He keeps his eyes on mine as he drinks. It feels weirdly intimate to drink from the same carton, kind of gross too, but I’m into it.
It’s like I’ve woken up a completely different, more relaxed person, because I experience a sudden urge to wrap my legs around him and pull him towards me, to feel him between my thighs, to use this counter in ways it definitely wasn’t designed for …
But we’re taking this slow, I remind myself.
That’s what I want, what I asked for. I just have to remember that.
‘Can I ask you a question?’ I say to distract myself.
‘Go ahead.’ He puts a ball of dough into the iron.
‘It’s kind of personal.’
‘Are you planning to put the answer on the internet?’ He glances up at me.
‘No.’
‘Then I don’t mind.’
‘OK.’ I tip my head to one side. ‘How are you single? I mean, you’re gorgeous, rich, talented and apparently you can now make waffles. You’re basically the whole package.’
‘Thank you.’ He throws me an amused look.
‘I had a couple of girlfriends back in Norway before I got on the Chiltern training programme, but nothing serious. Mostly I’ve been focused on my career.
I still would be, only …’ His gaze flickers.
‘I guess I didn’t expect to meet anyone I had this kind of connection with. ’
‘Oh.’ My throat turns dry because I feel the same way.
‘Now tell me about you.’ He picks up one of my hands and turns it over, pressing his lips to the inside of my wrist. ‘I want to know everything.’
‘There’s not much to tell.’ I shake my head. ‘I grew up in a village near King’s Lynn, then I moved to Cambridge to do Media Studies. That’s pretty much my full bio.’
‘What about your family?’
‘My parents are abroad right now, travelling, and my brother Dan also lives in Cambridge.’ I smile. ‘They’re all pretty great, other than not caring enough about motorsports.’
‘Nobody’s perfect.’ He chuckles. ‘So if your family don’t like F1, what got you into it?’
I squirm beneath his gaze. It strikes me suddenly how hypocritical I’ve been, asking Leif about his past when I’m so uncomfortable talking about parts of my own. Only there are some things I still want to keep hidden.
‘It’s hard to explain. I had to miss a few months of school when I was fifteen, the Grand Prix was on TV and I got hooked – that’s all.’
‘Huh.’ He looks surprised, though thankfully he doesn’t pursue the subject. Instead, he tips the waffles on to two plates and slides one across to me. ‘There you go. Breakfast is served.’
‘Thank you.’ I sprinkle some sugar on top as Simone instructed and take a bite. ‘Oh wow. That’s delicious.’
‘If at first you don’t succeed …’ He drizzles syrup on to his. ‘Obviously, we’ll be keeping this a secret from Kelsey too?’
‘I presumed. Hey, do you mind if I check my messages quickly?’ I mumble through a second mouthful of waffle, as I reach across the counter for my bag. I can’t believe I left it down here last night and didn’t even notice. I’m normally glued to my phone.
‘Of course not.’ He flicks on a coffee machine. ‘Any crises at Rask?’
‘No.’ I glance up. ‘But there’s an interesting message from Maisie. She’s invited me to go with her to Canada this weekend.’
He gives me a stern look. ‘To enjoy Fraser hospitality?’
‘Yes, but I’d still be cheering for you.’
‘What about after the race?’ He looks thoughtful. ‘Will Maisie need you then?’
‘I doubt it. Not if she’s with Gio.’
‘Then why don’t we hang out? I’ve heard that Montreal is a beautiful city. We could be tourists together.’
I take another large bite of waffle, considering the idea while I chew. It sounds risky, but kind of exciting too. ‘Will there be time?’
‘We’ll make time. I like to see more than a track in the places I visit. When I was a kid, I never expected to leave Norway, so now I never waste an opportunity to explore.’ He leans forward, touching a syrupy kiss to my lips. ‘Nobody else needs to know what we’re up to.’
‘You mean like a secret sightseeing tour?’ I feel a rush of adrenaline at the idea. ‘I’d love that.’