Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Caleb
A day at the racetrack without Johannes is not something I want to experience again.
Anton is way too green for this level of racing.
He could do with some more time in the lower levels, and he struggles to take on board even the most straightforward command.
I said box – box, and yet he managed to miss the fucking pit lane.
I could have screamed. I did, when my mic was turned off, and Ian had to prevent me from throwing it out of reach so I didn’t have to communicate with him.
Not a good day in the office, especially when Anton finished nineteenth and even that was only because another driver ended up not finishing due to an engine problem. It was almost embarrassing considering the incredible car he’s in.
‘How’s Johannes doing?’ Ian asks as we finish packing up. I’m not sticking around to assist with the garage pack-up tonight. I’m ready to run back to Jo and make sure he’s doing okay.
‘Two broken ribs and feeling absolutely distraught that he couldn’t be out here today.’
‘Yeah. And watching this shit show today probably hasn’t helped. He going to be okay for the next one?’ Ian asks, as he shoves his laptop into its case and throws his satchel over his shoulder.
‘I don’t think anyone will be able to stop him, even if he isn’t.’
‘He’ll be back before we know it. Just one race, Nathan was saying.’
Yeah, well, Nathan would have liked it to be no races, so I’m not sure how much I value his opinion. ‘Anyway, I’m off. Need to get back to, uh, work on my thesis this evening and sleep. Yeah, I’m tired.’ I try to force out a yawn.
Ian eyes me suspiciously. Normally I’d be here all evening, but I’m out the door before he can even say goodnight.
* * *
‘Honey, I’m home,’ I call out as I slip my keycard into his hotel room door. He smiles, but frustration is etched in the way the room is an absolute mess of crumpled sheets of paper from the colouring book I thought might keep him occupied and several chocolate-stained room-service plates.
‘Fucking finally,’ he grumbles. It’s much later than I predicted, but he knew I’d have no choice but to go to the grid today. It’s not like the team has a backup race engineer.
I know Johannes is ready to climb the walls right now, but the doctor said for the first couple of days at least only light movement and exercise. Johannes is pulling threads out of the expensive bedspread right now, though, which tells me how bored he must be.
We’ve got each other off more in the last twenty-four hours than the whole time we’ve been dating, settling for messy hand jobs and blow jobs on my part, but it’s been something to do.
I’m pretty sure it was a blow job that convinced him to actually watch the race today.
Even if he did say it would be on low volume and he couldn’t promise he’d actually pay attention.
I didn’t believe him for a second. He’d want to catch Nils pulling up into fifth place on the grid, his highest starting position so far, and his pride wouldn’t let him miss that success for his teammate.
I tug off the team jumper, folding it before draping it over the armchair and then slipping out of my trousers and boxers as he wolf-whistles. I’m in desperate need of a shower and to slip into something comfy before we spend the evening in bed together again.
‘Let me wash quickly and then I’ll take over keeping you occupied, okay?’
‘Leave the door open so I can watch.’ I almost do as well, just to give him a little bit of satisfaction, because this being unable to race thing is clearly making him cranky, but I know it’ll only tempt him up out of bed and he’ll be naked under the spray with me before I can blink an eye.
I grab a clean pair of his boxers and close the bathroom door behind me. ‘How’re the ribs feeling?’ I ask, which is probably a stupid question.
‘Urgh, not good. Feels like someone’s trying to snap my body in half – and not in the good way like when I’m being bent over the back of a couch.’ Well, at least he hasn’t lost is sense of humour, or his libido. That’s something.
‘You’re taking the painkillers, though, right?’ I know some athletes can be too proud and stubborn to take them, not wanting to appear weak.
He grunts. ‘I’m taking them exactly as the doctor said. They make me fucking sleepy though, so that’s fun.’
I flick on the TV, trying to find something interesting to watch, but neither of us is interested in anything on offer.
It’s 10 p.m. and I’m exhausted from the grind, but because he’s hardly done anything today, Johannes is nowhere near ready to sleep. After the fourth groan and sigh in the last twenty minutes, I’ve had enough.
I remember the first time he brought me back to one of the villas in Europe and Nils had a Switch hooked up to their TV in the lounge.
I’m sure I’ve seen it on the plane recently, too.
Maybe Nils’d be willing to give it up for the night so I can keep Johannes from creating a damages bill for the team.
‘I’ll be back,’ I say, sliding out of his bed. He mumbles something I don’t catch on the way out, as I check the corridor before knocking on Nils’s door.
He yells to come in, and I find the door unlocked. Not sure what’s given me the nerve to knock on his room door, walk straight in and put my hand on the Switch console that seems to fly around the world with him. ‘We’re stealing this. Hope you don’t mind.’
‘Johannes has been a terrible influence on you. You used to be so polite,’ Nils comments from where he’s lying in his hotel bed, shirtless, watching some weird American reality show.
I don’t ask any more questions and I’m trying not to think about what I’ve interrupted as I notice both his arms are tucked under the covers.
‘He’s also got two broken ribs and is going absolutely mad having to lie in bed with nothing to do.’ I think even I’d be going out of my mind, because though I’d have my PhD thesis to finally finish, I’d want to do everything I couldn’t do in that moment.
‘And he’s got you playing nurse. Lucky him. I’m surprised he’s not already got you in the uniform.’ I hope Nils never repeats this to Johannes, because he’d be straight on ordering the skimpiest one with the fastest delivery.
‘Should I be worried about you visualising that right now?’
‘You’re not my type, don’t you worry, Hughes.’ Johannes made it clear quite early on that Nils was straight, but I don’t miss how his eyes scan my body in Johannes’s T-shirt.
‘I’m surprised you’re not out tonight.’
‘It’s not the same without Johannes. We’ll celebrate when his ribs are better. Even Harper and Elijah are having a quiet dinner with Cole and Ash. I didn’t know Harper understood the word quiet.’
‘Touché, team party animal.’
‘I would be if your boyfriend wasn’t being boring with his stupid broken ribs.’
I roll my eyes. There isn’t a world in which Nils could have convinced me to let Johannes out this evening. Not that I own him, but I would have physically barricaded the door with my body before I let him be that stupid.
‘Thanks again.’ I wave the games console at him.
‘Go, enjoy the rest of the evening with your man. Me and my hand will be in here feeling lonely.’
Not an image I ever want in my head. Gross. ‘Ew. I did not need to know that. You need to get yourself a girlfriend, Nils!’
‘You’re telling me,’ Nils mutters, but I’m half out the door, running the few steps between his and Johannes rooms before pushing open the door.
‘Mission success,’ I say, and his face lights up when he spots the Switch and HDMI cable in my hand and I make fast work getting it hooked up to our TV.
‘I can’t wait to beat your ass at Mario Kart.
’ He shoots me a glare now that says dream on, but he has no idea how much my siblings played this with me on the Wii when I was younger, and that I have been playing this game on Switch since the pandemic when I needed to unwind.
‘Bring it on.’ I chuck him a controller, before sliding back into bed next to him.
Turns out, you can be fantastic in an actual car and still be shit at a video game.
Johannes can’t finish above fifth place after demanding we play it on the hardest settings because he can manage. I’m only familiar with first or second place, and it’s all too satisfying to be beating a professional race driver’s ass right now.
We only stop to order fuel – he insists that he’s eaten way too much chocolate cake, but he still wants something sweet, so I ask if they’ll make up a big fruit platter for the injured Johannes Müller and of course they are nothing short of happy to do so.
We eat it in between races, Johannes taking the most aggressive bite out of a slice of melon when he finishes last yet again.
He chucks the remote to the end of the bed when he loses for the fourth time in a row. He’s lucky I can’t currently put this on Instagram without revealing that there’s something going on. What else would Caleb Hughes be doing in Johannes Müller’s bed at close to midnight?
‘I can’t be both injured and humiliated, so I’m done for the night.’ He yawns and for a second as he stretches, I think he’s about to try and roll onto his bad side like an idiot, but he quickly catches himself.
‘Hey,’ I say, grabbing both remotes and placing them on the ottoman at the end of the bed, before turning the TV off and moving into his half of the bed. ‘Come here.’ I stretch open an arm so he can snuggle against me and get at least somewhat comfy before he tries to sleep tonight.
He reaches for his phone and for thirty minutes scrolls through the never-ending list of TikToks that Harper’s sent him this evening.
Half of them are fan edits of either one or both of them – which is only slightly concerning for their egos – but some of them are absolutely adorable clips of them as baby faced teens in go-karts.
It feels very domestic and all of a sudden, my mind is picturing many more nights like this. Cosy in bed together, him scrolling his phone, me typing away on my laptop. It feels so normal.
I can see us doing this for a long time.
On the road, not hiding. Not saying we’ll be doing PDA all over the grid, but I’d like us to be able to come into work together and have no one bat an eyelid.
We could go away over winter break, maybe spend time at home together.
Not that I have a home. I should probably start looking at a temporary rental for the winter or something, but for once I don’t want temporary.
I want dinners with his – or as he keeps insisting – our friends. I want to make time for Cole and Ash like they keep texting me for. I want double dates with him and Harper and Kian. I want to spend every night with him and wake up in the morning to him clinging to me on one side of the bed.
I don’t see why we can’t have that.
‘Soooo,’ I linger over my words. It’s not that I’m scared because I don’t think he’s going to decline, but it’s never easy putting yourself out there. Plus, this will be the start of navigating a new era together.
‘Soooo,’ he teases, swiping up the last strawberry from the fruit platter.
‘I was just thinking, we’ve been spending a lot of time together and doing these weird dates that we can manage between races and what not, and I guess what I’m trying to say is, would you wanna be my boyfriend?’
‘Ooooh, boyfriend,’ he says, mocking the way I rushed out that final word.
Rolling my eyes, I force out a sigh. ‘Nope, I take it back. Rescind the offer. You remain just my little bitch driver.’
‘Fuck you. I’m not shorter than you, asshole. I’m the tallest driver on the grid.’
‘You might wanna put that on your Grindr profile.’
‘Baby, I don’t need a profile. I’ve already bagged myself the hottest boyfriend going. And, to be honest, I thought we already were…’ He reaches for my hand, threading his fingers through mine and damn it if there isn’t a little fizz in my nose as he squeezes.
We’re doing this. I have a boyfriend. And yeah, it comes with risks to my job, but he’s truly worth it.
He turns into my hold and kisses me softly, clutching the comforter to keep him in position without causing him too much pain. It’s gentle and all kinds of soppy, until he winces and I force him off me to get him comfortable again.
‘We should probably sleep,’ I whisper into the darkness, kissing the back of his neck and then the top of his head as he slides back into a prone position.
‘Caleb?’ His voice is so low I almost miss the way he says my name as I’m trying to get comfy but also stay close to him without hurting him.
‘Yeah?’ His hand finds mine under the comforter and squeezes it gently.
‘Thank you for looking after me.’
‘If you’ll let me, I always will.’ It’s a promise of a lifetime. I don’t want it to come across as too much or too soon, but I’m falling for him whether I like it or not. Whether the racing world likes it or not.