Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Johannes
It’s the first time I’ve been back to the penthouse in London since that awkward morning with Caleb. It’s so quiet, but my ears ring with the echoes of Caleb laughing at my jokes, singing out of tune to country music, and explaining the statistical method of his PhD research.
It’s disorientating and probably why I can’t take it for more than a few days.
I invite myself to stay with Harper and Kian for the rest of the time.
I’m sure Harper was surprised by my request but he doesn’t pry.
He puts me up in the guest room, which is still as beautiful as ever.
I can’t believe that Kian gutted and redecorated this place mostly on his own.
It’s now the perfect home for them and I know they already have plans to extend the cottage to prepare for when they have kids.
I take lots of long walks to give Kian and Harper the privacy they probably thought they were going to have over the summer break.
Not that it’s a hardship – the land they live on is gorgeous.
I even select my favourite sheep – Elise tells me her name is Bonnie – and I always look out for her in the field.
I cook for Harper and Kian every night as a way of saying thank you. Some nights I cook up at Elise’s for the whole of the Walker crew. It’s literally the least I can do.
‘I forgot you can cook like that,’ Harper says on a night when it’s just the three of us in the cottage. Kian fully leans back in his chair, hands rubbing his stomach like he’s an old man with a beer gut.
‘Yeah, I guess it’s been a while.’ I too am completely stuffed and know I’m going to need a big old run tomorrow morning. For some reason they just don’t hit the same anymore, now that I’m doing them on my own again.
‘I’m so glad you two are leaving tomorrow. I need to get back to eating salmon and salad,’ Kian says with a groan. ‘Jo, you’re gonna make a great house husband one day.’
‘I can’t believe you didn’t cook for me like that all the time when we lived together,’ Harper says, mock-petulant.
I roll my eyes.
‘It was a different time,’ I say, and it makes me feel a hundred years old.
‘Sure was,’ says Harper, eyeing his handsome husband. Kian puts his hand on Harper’s thigh and squeezes.
I see the look they exchange and say quickly, ‘I’m gonna head out for a walk and ring my folks. Harper did you sort the car for six?’ We’re annoyingly on a 10 a.m. flight to Monaco from Stansted, which is a bit of a drive.
‘Kian booked it.’ Of course he did. I shouldn’t be surprised.
Harper doesn’t even wait for me to get my trainers on before he pulls Kian towards the bedroom. I hear them shriek and laugh as they tear each other’s clothes off, and while I’m happy for him, I’m also insanely jealous of everything he has here.
I want what he has, but I want it with—
I don’t let myself finish the sentence.
* * *
I’m kind of glad when we land in Monaco and it’s just the guys. I don’t want to be reminded of everything I want but don’t have. And then in walks Caleb and he is everything I want but can’t have.
Fuck.
For the first couple of days, we’re very good about keeping our distance.
He’s just … one of the guys. We go running together every morning, we play games in the pool with the other guys, we eat good food and drink expensive wine.
We joke and talk and laugh like nothing ever happened between us, but the truth bubbles beneath the surface.
Every day, the pressure builds, but we pretend not to notice.
Fans snap pictures of us when we’re all out together, and I’m reminded of why I don’t have a place here like some of the other drivers.
Every day, Caleb’s pale skin gets a little more sunkissed. Every day, another freckle pops out on his face. When we’re all relaxing in the evenings, I like to make a mental note of each new one that appears. It’s harmless, I tell myself. Completely harmless.
One evening, over dinner at a local restaurant, I watch him suck up a piece of linguine and I’m grateful for the napkin in my lap that just about disguises how hard I get.
I feel like a teenage boy. By the time we get to dessert, my ankle happens to rest against his, and the merest slither of skin-to-skin contact has me on the edge of my seat, all my nerve endings sizzling away.
It’s torture, but the delicious kind, and I don’t pull away.
Neither does he. He must know it’s my ankle.
He must know. He can’t not know. I feel like I’ve been branded and the creeping lush on his cheeks tells me I’m not alone. It makes me feel reckless.
Everyone’s buzzed when we get back to the apartment, but one by one the others call it a night or slink off to call wives, girlfriends and husbands.
When Harper plants a kiss on my cheek and tells me he’s going to call Kian, I am the only one left. Of course I am.
I carry the glasses and empty bottles into the kitchen and start loading the dishwasher. It’s like living with teenagers. I crash about resentfully, making no attempt to hide my frustration. I’m not really mad at them. I just wish I had someone of my own to call.
Once it’s all done, I slope off to bed, but find myself pausing outside Caleb’s bedroom. I contemplate knocking. No one would know. The guys are all busy on the phone or already passed out.
It doesn’t have to mean anything. Just like the ankle graze at dinner didn’t mean anything.
Or the way Caleb clenched his thighs around my ears the other day when we partnered up in a game of shoulder wars in the pool.
And of course I had to hold on to him, tightly, otherwise he’d have fallen off as soon as Ash made contact.
It’s not like I threw my head back to feel his dick against the back of my neck – at least, I did, but it doesn’t have to mean anything, right?
Sun plus booze plus Caleb is a dangerous combination. I’m already hard and all I’m doing is standing like a creep outside his door.
I don’t want to ruin the friendship we’ve built. The team’s success is important to us both, but I’m desperate to get my hands on him again.
I raise my fist about to knock. Drop it down, then raise it again, and pause.
Make good choices, Johannes.
‘I can hear you breathing,’ says Caleb.
Well, shit.
‘And I can see your toes.’
‘Oh,’ is all I manage to say.
I shift my toes back from the crack under his door.
‘Sorry, I was … contemplating whether this was a good idea,’ I whisper into the space between us.
‘It’s not,’ he says, but it comes out strangled, which at least strokes my ego a little.
‘I can’t stop thinking about you.’ I sound ridiculous, desperate even, but I am a weak man.
‘I…’ He barely makes a sound, but I catch it all the same.
‘I’m glad you’re here, Caleb. I’m glad you came.’
‘Me, too,’ he says in a soft voice.
‘The guys love you and I know they appreciate that you’ve got me cooking again.’
I didn’t even realise how much I’d missed cooking, until I had someone to do it for.
‘Thanks Jo. That means a lot.’ He’s started calling me Jo on this trip, and I love hearing it. ‘I’ve not been very good at connecting with people in this world, but I’m grateful you introduced me to your friends.’
‘You’re welcome,’ I say. They’ve all raved about him to me at one point during this trip. Cole and Ash have set up a padel game with him and Elijah tomorrow, and Harper’s been picking his brain about a trip he and Kian are taking to America this winter.
‘It’s been nice to be included. And even nicer to have a break from work.’ He did seem to be fully switching off. He even left his laptop behind so he couldn’t work on his PhD.
‘It looks good on you,’ I say.
I hear a noise, but I can’t make out whether it’s a word, a movement or a choked swallow.
Eventually he says, ‘So, I should probably get some sleep. Cole’s booked the court for nine.’
He’s right. Of course he’s right. And he’s right not to have opened the door. But there’s something about talking softly to each other from either side of a closed door that makes this conversation intensely intimate.
‘So, goodnight?’ I whisper.
‘Goodnight,’ he whispers back.
I wait to hear if he moves away from the door but there’s nothing but the chirp and buzz of cicadas from outside the villa.
I know he’s still there. I might not be able to see him, but I can practically feel his presence behind the wood keeping us apart. I can hear his breathing in rhythm with mine. I press my hand against the door and wonder if he’s doing the same.
‘Just so you know,’ I whisper, ‘I really want to kiss you right now. I know all the reasons why we shouldn’t and you’re right about all of them. But I still want to.’
I hold my breath.
Do I imagine it or does he say, ‘Me too?
I wait, but he doesn’t say anything else. I drop my shoulders in resignation, which makes my head thud dully against the door.
‘What was that?’ comes his whisper, sharper now.
‘Just my head,’ I reply.
I hear him stifle a laugh.
‘It’s not funny,’ I murmur.
‘If you say so,’ comes his response, as well as a little snort. There’s nothing like the need to be quiet to make everything even funnier.
‘I’m going now,’ I say.
‘Okay.’ A pause. ‘Goodnight, Jo.’
I go to move when I feel a sudden pulse of cool air as he yanks open his door and I turn to meet him.
He presses his mouth against mine and lets out the tiniest grumbling sigh, which is the biggest fucking turn-on.
He’s shirtless, his nipples a dusty shade of pink and very erect.
He’s so beautiful. It should be illegal.
I run my hands up and down his back while we devour each other hungrily.
His fists ball up my T-shirt as he pulls me close and possesses my mouth with his.
It’s fierce and fiery and everything I’ve dreamed of.
I grab his ass and press him against me so he can feel just how hard I am.
I’m not thinking – there are no thoughts, only actions and reactions.
Only mouths and tongues and hands and bodies.
Anyone could come out and catch us, which only makes it more thrilling. I groan into his mouth. It’s louder than I intended and the sound bounces down the tiled hallway.
We break apart, panting. I’m so fucking hard. I ache for him. I want to feel his mouth around my cock, sucking and licking and swallowing. Did I think that, or say it out loud? My pulse is pounding so hard in my ears that I’m not sure.
But then, just as suddenly as he appeared, Caleb is gone and the door is closed in my face.
Fuck.