Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Caleb
‘I did tell him seven, but he’s not answering his phone and Nils’s seems to be switched off or on DND, so fuck knows.’ Harper shrugs, before taking a swig of his beer.
‘I’m sure they’re fine, just stuck in traffic or something,’ Elijah suggests with the same nonchalance.
The set of villas and apartments we are staying at are completely locked off to paparazzi, but the second you’re out of there, they are an assault on the senses, and who knows what hassle Johannes and Nils are facing trying to get here.
But if Johannes doesn’t show for some reason, and I’m left here awkwardly on my own…
I breathe a sigh of relief when the bar cheers and my eyes shoot straight to Johannes’s six-foot frame, his hand on Nils’s shoulder guiding him through the crowds.
The contrast between the two men is striking.
Nils is baby-faced with that white-blond hair, and despite no longer being the youngest driver on the circuit he still looks like such a kid compared to Johannes.
He’s dressed casually, while Johannes, with his shaved head and strong features, is dressed to impress in silk trousers that hug him in all the right places, accentuating his long legs.
He’s left several of the buttons on his pink shirt undone, leaving what feels like miles of gleaming chocolate skin on show. This man is a sin. An absolute sin.
I’m very much afraid that my mouth is hanging open. I close it with a snap, but I’m not the only one who’s noticed that Johannes is radiant tonight.
The friends all greet each other enthusiastically.
‘Hey,’ I finally say after Harper stops ribbing him about being late because he was doing his hair.
Being in such close quarters, it’s impossible to ignore how good he smells.
It’s sweet like vanilla, with a nutty hint – maybe pistachio?
– and with top notes of femininity that make him intoxicating.
‘Hey, yourself. Sorry I left you alone with these knuckleheads. Apparently, I’m incapable of getting ready in half an hour.’ He chuckles before spreading his arms out across the back of the booth, relaxing into the plush seat.
‘Oh, no problem,’ I rush to reassure him. ‘They were getting a bit restless, though. I think Harper’s already put in a food order for everyone. It took him like five minutes to reel off, so I hope you’re hungry.’
‘Oh, don’t you worry, I can eat. That’s why I run so much,’ he says, patting his flat stomach.
I’m all too aware that under the pink shirt is a set of washboard abs.
I lift my eyes back up to his face and realise he’s caught me looking.
I hope my pale skin isn’t revealing the heat I feel flood into my cheeks.
The most obnoxiously sized plates of wings and ribs, alongside a bunch of potato sides are delivered to our table, and the way the six other people dive in reminds me of animals in the wild.
Part of me almost feels like a bit of a spectator at the table.
It’s not that I don’t fit in – I’m as much a part of the racing world as all of these guys – but I don’t really know them.
Even Nils seems quite relaxed with them, and I know he wasn’t really part of this group last year. I didn’t know Cole or Ash were either, to be honest.
It feels like I’m back in senior school, which is kind of pathetic when I’m almost thirty-three years old.
So, I grab a wing and bite into the juicy flesh.
It’s spicy but the ranch dressing they’ve provided helps take the edge off.
I’ve definitely had better in America, but it isn’t the worst attempt at it.
‘Good, huh?’ Nils comments from across the table, hands already sticky and hot sauce coating his lips.
‘Did the kids’ meal not come with wet napkins?’ Johannes asks Harper. Nils sticks his tongue out at him in reply. ‘Seriously, wipe your mouth, you animal. Can’t take you anywhere.’
Nils doesn’t. Instead he sucks the meat off a rib in protest, blue-cheese dipping sauce trickling down his chin. It’s the messiest meal I’ve eaten in a long time, but as the bones stack up and the trays of fries go down, we all end up resembling Nils. Except Johannes.
Torturously, he sucks the sauce off his fingers between every piece of meat, dabbing a napkin at his lips to catch any sauce.
I almost drop a forkful of fries the first time I see him do it.
I have to force my eyes to look away from each mesmerisingly delicate suck.
It must be the multiple beers I’ve sunk, because my mind is going places it really shouldn’t.
Not at a table surrounded by colleagues.
Not at all. It’s not a place I often let it wander.
My life is full enough between work and education.
I don’t have room for anything else. I wish my brain would tell my body that before I embarrass myself.
I focus back on the food, joining in on conversation about a soccer game that’s being shown on one of the screens. I think there’s a big European competition going on right now, but it’s not exactly a sport I follow. The US Men’s soccer team isn’t anything to write home about.
The Brits and Johannes have a whole bunch of opinions, but when I squint at the screen I don’t think it’s either of their teams even playing.
I’m just happy to be here, to be included, even though I have no idea what’s going on on the pitch.
I have no idea what time it is, and I feel relaxed and loose.
When the match is over, they turn the music up and Chayce Beckham’s song ‘23’ starts playing.
‘I love this song.’
I’m not sure if I said the words out loud, too, but they echo my thoughts exactly. I turn to Johannes beside me and we both laugh at the same time, shifting so our knees clack together.
‘Oh, no. Now there’s two of them,’ Harper mutters, shaking his head at us across the booth.
‘I didn’t know you liked country music,’ Johannes says, and I can’t stop the grin that’s splitting my face. I’ve only had three beers, but there’s a thrum of excitement racing through my veins.
‘There’s probably a lot you don’t know about me.’ I don’t mean for it to sound as flirty as it comes out, but the words fizz in the very small space between us.
‘I’m sure.’ The energy between us is suddenly charged like I’ve never felt before with anyone. What I thought was going to be awkward drinks with colleagues and the enemy, now has sweat collecting at the nape of my neck. ‘What got you into country music?’ he asks.
‘Well, I was born and raised in Tennessee. I used to spend weekends getting the train to Nashville with my dad to see live music in bars and it was always country music. What about you?’
‘I actually have no idea. Neither of my parents are fans but I remember hearing Carrie Underwood for the first time and I was hooked.’ He’s smiling, his whole body turned into the conversation, shoulders hanging loosely once more.
It’s so good to see him like this after witnessing him being so broken on the plane to Hungary.
‘God, Nashville though. I can’t believe how many times I’ve been to the US and never visited. ’
‘I’ll have to show you the sights one day, all the local hangouts.’
‘I might just hold you to that.’ And I want him to. I hope he does. I hadn’t realised how much I wanted to see him smiling again and enjoying life.
He holds my gaze for a beat – two, three – then bites his lip and turns away.
I can’t believe the way the energy suddenly seems to crackle between us. There’s a churning feeling in my stomach and it’s not down to the ridiculous amount of ribs and wings we just consumed. I don’t remember the last time I felt like this. I’ve practically made myself immune to chemistry.
Johannes’s knee settles casually against mine and he doesn’t move it away. He’s speaking to Nils and Harper across the table, not even looking at me, but I feel every inch of that touch. I know I’m not reading too much into it. I know he feels it, too.
This is not a good idea, but I don’t move my leg away.
I shouldn’t have come tonight – and still I don’t pull my leg away.
My attention is thankfully pulled by Ash on the other side of me. I take a big gulp of beer and focus on what he’s saying. I’m intrigued by how these guys are all such good friends, despite being fierce competitors on the track.
‘How long have you two been at Hendersohm?’ I ask as Cole leans in across the table to be involved.
‘Like, six years now I think,’ Ash answers. ‘I was Elijah’s race engineer and now I’m Harper’s.’
‘Dare I ask who you prefer?’ The three of us chuckle before he mocks zipping his lips.
‘That would be like choosing a favourite child, which is weird considering I’m only a couple of years older than Elijah.
They both have their qualities – Elijah’s easier to talk to in high-tension moments, but Harper offers a ton of insight.
It surprises people when I tell them how smart he is about the car and race. ’
He’s gone from being a rookie to being on top of the racing world in such a short amount of time, and that’s simply not possible unless you truly understand the drive.
‘I’ve been with Hendersohm for longer than I care to admit, but I can’t imagine not working there. I started the year the team was formed – Kian’s rookie year,’ Cole replies.
I can’t even imagine what it would be like to be a part of Kian’s story. He’s going to forever be one of the biggest legends in this sport.
‘I bet you were sad when he decided to retire?’ Even I remember the little clench in my chest as I watched his final press conference.
‘Yeah, but it was his time. I wouldn’t have wanted him to race if his heart wasn’t in it anymore. Plus, who doesn’t want to go out on a high?’
‘Yeah, his last season was incredible. I’d say the sport isn’t the same without him, but the potential of the kids coming into this level of racing right now is astounding.’