Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Johannes
So, apparently, I’m now the king of making mistakes with people I work with. What is wrong with me?
The wannabe principal of our rival team? My race engineer? What am I even thinking? Am I thinking? Clearly not.
Waking up in Belgium from a dream about a ginger-haired, green-eyed man with freckles across the bridge of his nose and skin that flushes pink and red when he gets turned on is like a bucket of ice-cold water down the back of my neck.
I really don’t want to go on this run. But if I lie here, I’ll end up doing something that future me won’t appreciate when I’m desperately trying to forget that night. Thinking about him while I touch myself will only cement the memory more firmly in my brain, and that’s the last thing I want.
No, a run will clear my head, get me set up for the day – and I can get a coffee before Nils and I go to record some promo clips for this week’s race in Belgium.
The villa is silent and still, the rising sun casting a golden glow on my bedroom as I pull back the curtains and dress for my run.
My shorts are snug after a week of wine and carbs that aren’t on my dietary plan, but I don’t feel sluggish as I grab my phone and keys, tucking them into the back pocket.
I’m just pulling on my trainers when my phone vibrates. I ignore it because it’s so early in the morning that whatever it is, it will either be from someone in a different time zone or the kind of news I could do without. But when it vibrates again a second later, I abandon my laces to retrieve it.
Unfortunately, it’s from someone who’s definitely in the same time zone as me, and therefore it’s not good news.
My heart sinks into my stomach.
Hey. I know we haven’t spoken since the wedding, but I miss you so fucking much, Jo.
I know you probably don’t ever want to speak to me again, but things are so much more settled than I thought.
I’m going to be announced as interim team principal over the summer break, and I can see I’ve fucked up losing you.
I think I can have both and I just didn’t see it before.
If you have time while we’re in Belgium, I’d love to spend some time together. Please.
I hurl my phone onto the bed. I would have flung it at the wall, but I need it.
Who the fuck does he think he is? To text me that, weeks after what he did.
Like a few meaningless words can make up for all the heartbreak he’s caused?
After every date he bailed on, every call he never returned, every text left unread?
He dropped me like it was nothing, and he thinks this will somehow make up for it?
No chance.
I pocket my phone so I don’t get lost on my run, not even justifying his pathetic message with a reply, and tighten the laces on my trainers. Now I really do need this run. I need it. Now.
Jackson Calder can get fucked.
I set my watch to an outdoor run and stretch out my quads.
As I look up to decide whether to go left or right, I spot a lone ginger-haired figure waiting for me at the end of the path leading up to our villa, running tights hugging his long, lean legs and stupidly perfect ass.
An ass that I’ve seen naked, that I’ve had my hands all over.
Fuck this.
Really, universe. Why are you testing me so much this morning?
I pause my watch so it doesn’t track something inaccurate and make my way up the path to where he’s waiting.
‘Hey,’ I say casually. I notice his hands tucked in the pockets of the windbreaker he’s sporting. I think he’s clenching and unclenching his fists. I don’t know what he’s got himself so worked up about. He’s the one that said no.
‘Hey,’ he begins. ‘Um, I hope I’m not intruding, but I thought you might be heading out on a run this morning. Is it okay if I join you?’
I really regret us talking so much about our love for early-morning runs – and specifically how 6 a.m. is the perfect time for them. I regret a lot of things.
He’s trying his best not to look at me too much, but not to look away too much, either. I know, because I’m doing the same. I don’t want this to be awkward. It can’t be awkward. I need him out there with me, fully focused and ready to guide me to the top of the podium.
‘Yeah, of course you can join me.’ The words are said through gritted teeth because I’m not sure it’s a good idea at all, but we need to get over this quickly or my track times will suffer.
That’s the brutal reality of the mindset that’s required to be an elite athlete – and another excellent reason why you shouldn’t fuck your coworkers.
But I’d be lying if I said I don’t already miss speaking to him, and it’s only been two days.
In such a short period of time, he’s become an integral part of my life.
I spent years watching Kian build a deep bond with his race engineer, then Harper and now Elijah.
I never had that with my last guy. He did a good job, but I don’t think he ever actually liked me.
This connection Caleb and I have developed is good for my racing – the result in Hungary proves that.
And now that we know each other even better?
That must be a good thing. I just need to keep it out of the bedroom. I can do that, surely?
I hear Caleb take a deep breath, but he doesn’t say anything. He takes another one and rushes out with, ‘Look, I really want us to carry on being friends and working well together. So can we just forget the other night happened and move on?’
It hurts that he makes it sound so straightforward, but I need to turn my brain off and stop thinking about how it never felt like that with Jackson. And how I’ve never felt so at peace with someone in my space. I have to. I have to if I want to achieve anything this year.
Professional, friendly relationship. Yeah, let’s go, I think without enthusiasm.
‘Yeah, absolutely. We can do that. I could do with a big win this weekend.’ I nudge his shoulder with mine and the spark that jolts my body has me pulling away almost immediately. Okay, that was a mistake. I’m adding touching to the list of things I can no longer do with Caleb.
‘Did you, uh, have a route in mind?’ he asks, hands now tugging nervously at the strings on his windbreaker.
‘No, not really. I was just gonna go for half an hour and turn back. You?’
‘Sounds good. There’s, um, this coffee shop like thirty-five minutes away I thought we could head to and then come back if you’ve got the time?’
‘Sure,’ I agree. It sounds very like a date to me, but at the same time it’s just a coffee. I can gulp it down quickly and then once we’re running again we won’t have to talk.
‘Shall we go?’
I nod in reply, not trusting my words. At first, I’m slightly behind him, but once I realise it gives me a great view of his ass jiggling – which almost sends me tripping up a kerb as we cross a road – I speed up so I’m slightly ahead. Much better.
Professional thoughts.
Come on. I can do this.
I focus my eyes straight ahead and think about my calendar for this week. I run through all the meetings we have scheduled, the race weekend, the fact that it’s a sprint weekend and there’s an extra eight points available that I desperately need to keep me in contention for the championship race.
I’m doing well, until we come to a stop in front of a cute coffee shop with a little outdoor patio area. It’s got perfect vibes.
‘Oh, this looks nice,’ I comment as we step inside, the smell of freshly ground coffee beans hitting me.
‘Yeah, it has great reviews.’ We’re the only ones in the queue this early in the morning so he orders his tea and I order my coffee and we quickly take up one of the patio tables.
He’s researching good coffee shops? As a non-coffee drinker. This isn’t fair. We just agreed to forget everything that happened and keep this friendly and professional. The way I feel about him doing this for me is neither just friendly nor professional.
‘You okay?’ he asks.
‘Yeah,’ I lie, desperate to push my thoughts back into the professional zone. I shake my head to clear it. ‘Just starting to think about the week ahead. How much I could do with those extra points.’
‘You’ve got this. I’m going to make sure of it.’ He sounds like he truly believes that, too.
‘I could do without all the media commitments and that documentary filming.’ I don’t usually mind the documentary people being around, but I know they want us to film some reactions to the last bunch of races and I’m not sure I’m ready to answer all the questions that will undoubtedly be posed about my performance recently.
‘Did they tell you they’re doing a whole episode on the support teams this year? Apparently, it’s like a ‘behind the pit wall’ kind of episode. They want to get footage of the race engineers, strategists and principals.’
‘Makes sense. Unsung heroes and all that,’ I say. I can already picture it, especially with the members of certain teams who already have a solid public profile, like Cole and Ash.
Oh. And Jackson. Fuck’s sake. They’ll lap that shit up, I think. The handover of power from father and son. That’s one episode I’ll definitely be skipping.
‘I’ve signed the form to be interviewed,’ he says with an artless enthusiasm that’s incredibly charming. ‘Fingers crossed I don’t come across like too much of an idiot.’ He swirls his tea but doesn’t meet my eye.
‘You won’t. You’re way too smart for that. I’m sure you’ll dazzle them with all your –’ I wave at his face before realising what I’m doing ‘– expertise.’
He’s downright gorgeous. The girls and the gays will absolutely lap him up – expertise or not.
‘I’ve never done anything like it before. I hope I don’t look too nervous.’
‘You’ll do great,’ I say with an encouraging smile.
He smiles back, unconsciously reaching over to me – I assume to touch my hand – but at the last second, a flicker of remembrance flashes over his face. His face flushes – adorably – and he yanks his hand back.
‘We should probably head back,’ he says suddenly, standing up so fast his chair makes an ugly screech against the patio.
The run back to the villa is fast, as though we’re both trying to outrun what’s happened. The second I step through the door, I’m met by Nils, arms folded and already dressed to go for the day. ‘Where have you been?’ he demands.
‘For a run?’
‘It’s quarter to nine. We have to go in five minutes. I’ve sent you like a hundred texts, you asshole. What gives?’
It’s really something when I’m being lectured about being punctual by Nikolas Beck, king of making us late.
‘My phone’s on silent.’ I don’t tell him why it’s going to stay that way for the foreseeable.
‘Take a shower. You stink.’
Once I’m clean, I dress in an appropriate outfit for media, making sure I add my brand-partnership watch and join Nils at the front door.
‘Hey, Jo, are you okay, man?’ he asks, as I pull on some smart black trainers. ‘You’ve been quiet since we got to Belgium. It seemed like you were doing better but now…’
Little by little, Nils has become one of my closest friends.
When we first became teammates more than three years ago and he was this bratty teenager trying to follow me around to all the cool clubs with Harper, I had no interest in being pals.
Now, I can’t imagine life without him. We spend so much time together and he’s really grown into an awesome person.
I know he’s asking because he genuinely cares.
‘I appreciate you asking,’ I say, ‘but…’ I don’t want to tell him too much, but I think it’s probably time to tell him something.
‘There was a guy – is a guy, I guess. I don’t know.
It felt really good and I thought maybe it might go somewhere but, you know, things don’t always work out the way you hope. ’
He contemplates that for a minute, pausing with his hand on the doorknob. I hope I haven’t said too much but he just shakes his head.
‘Honestly, Jo, you deserve a guy that’s going to treat you right. For a while recently, you’ve seemed happier than I’ve ever seen you, and I hate to see you become sad again. If he makes you happy, if there’s a chance it could work, isn’t that worth taking?’
When the hell did Nils get so wise? I feel like a proud big brother, because three years ago he’d have given me some cocky answer about getting under someone else being the best way to move on.
I think about making pasta with Caleb, about the moment our lips met for the first time, how enthusiastically he kissed me back. I know I didn’t imagine that.
‘Plus, the sex must be sensational to put a smile like that on your face.’
Oh, there he is.
I ruffle his wild blond hair and shove him out the front door, because now we really are going to be late.