TWENTY-TWO
‘OW!’ LORENZO YELPS AS Gio and I half drag, half carry him into his hotel room and deposit him on the bed. ‘ Fa male! ’
‘You deserve it.’ Gio stands back and brushes his hands off. ‘I can’t believe people think I’m the reckless brother in the family. What were you thinking, racing a golf cart through the team village after so much champagne? Somebody could have been seriously hurt.’
‘I was celebrating your win.’ Lorenzo sounds aggrieved. ‘And I wasn’t racing – I was looking for the hotel.’
‘You’re lucky you’re not under arrest.’
‘One of the medical officers is on her way.’ Izabel comes into the room behind us.
‘I don’t need a doctor. I am a doctor,’ Lorenzo objects.
‘You’re a medical student ,’ Gio corrects him. ‘And right now you’re not in a position to help anybody. How the hell did you manage to injure yourself getting out of a golf cart anyway?’
‘I don’t know.’ Lorenzo looks puzzled. ‘I think maybe there was a step?’
‘I brought this too.’ Izabel hands Gio a pillowcase filled with ice. ‘I thought it might help.’
‘ Grazie .’ Gio throws her a grateful look. ‘Now you should get back to the party. We’ll look after this clown.’
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to do it? You’re the one who should be partying.’
‘Thanks, but he’s my stupid brother.’ Gio shakes his head. ‘You go and enjoy yourself.’
‘Here.’ I arrange some cushions into a pile so that Lorenzo can elevate his sore leg, while Gio wraps the pillowcase around it. It doesn’t seem like he’s done any permanent damage, but one of his hands is bleeding and there’s a nasty cut on his head that needs tending.
‘Ooow,’ Lorenzo hisses as he stretches his leg out and sprawls backwards. ‘I’m sorry if I ruined your evening.’
‘You haven’t,’ I assure him.
‘Yes, he has.’ Gio immediately contradicts me.
I catch his eye and then wet my lips with my tongue because his look is smouldering. It’s way past midnight and I know what he’s thinking because I’ve been thinking it for hours too. When is this evening going to end so we can finally be alone together? First there were the post-race interviews, then team photographs, then a debrief, then a meeting with Mark, then a party and now … this. It’s not the way our reunion was supposed to go, waiting for a doctor while his younger brother lies injured on a bed between us, but I can still feel sparks of electricity in the air.
‘It was fun, though.’ Lorenzo grins, thankfully oblivious. ‘And at least Iris never showed up to the party. Hopefully that means she’s given up following you around.’
‘She’s been following you?’ I frown at Gio, who glares at his brother in turn.
‘Just to the last three Grands Prix.’ He rubs a hand behind his neck awkwardly.
‘ Just? ’
‘Don’t worry. He’s told her he doesn’t want her back.’ Lorenzo puts a hand on my arm reassuringly.
I blink. ‘She wants you back?’
‘Not happening.’ Lorenzo sounds like he’s falling asleep now. ‘She’s a total fake. I told him … hold on to you.’
‘And I told you , I intend to.’ Gio shoots his brother one last ferocious glare before turning to me. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it was no big deal. I really only spoke to her for two minutes.’
‘We should have a drink!’ Lorenzo jolts upright to exclaim. ‘Move the party in here.’
‘You’ve had enough.’ Gio pushes him back down again.
Lorenzo grunts like he’s about to protest, then submits. ‘You might be right. I’m worn out. Dad made us get up at four thirty.’
‘Four thirty?’ Gio quirks an eyebrow at me. ‘No wonder you’ve been yawning.’
I lift my own eyebrow back. ‘I’m not the one who drove a one hundred and ninety-mile race today.’
‘So we’re both exhausted?’
I open my mouth to deny it, but then a woman knocks on the open doorway behind us.
‘Is the medical situation in here?’
‘Xanthe.’ Gio goes over to greet her. ‘Sorry if we woke you up.’
‘You didn’t. I was in the bar. Not drinking, don’t worry.’ She looks down at Lorenzo and clucks her tongue. ‘Is this the patient?’
‘I’m afraid so.’ Gio makes a face. ‘He’s a bit of a mess.’
‘I’ve seen worse. Let’s wake him up, shall we?’
‘I’M NEVER GOING TO let him forget this,’ Gio says as he wraps an arm round my shoulders and glowers across the room at his brother. We’re sitting side by side on a sofa, where it seems we’re about to spend the night. Xanthe recommended somebody stay with Lorenzo, just in case he’s concussed or gets up and decides to start hobbling around the hotel in the early hours, so here we are. It’s clear that we won’t be doing any more celebrating tonight, but it’s still kind of nice: cosy and intimate in a way I haven’t felt before.
‘I think he’s going to feel bad enough in the morning,’ I say. ‘That’s going to be some hangover.’
‘Good. He deserves it.’ Gio slides his hand down my arm. ‘You know, you don’t have to stay. You can use the bed in my room, if you want? Somebody ought to.’
‘And leave you to babysit by yourself?’ I curl my legs up beneath me and nuzzle my head against his shoulder. ‘No. We’ll wait together until your dad gets here.’
‘Don’t hold your breath.’ He snorts. ‘He’s probably in the bar, reminiscing about the good old days with Fabian Van Beek. Trust me, we won’t see him until dawn.’
‘You know, he hugged me today when you won. He was so proud.’
‘He told me so too.’ Gio sighs, pressing his lips into my hair. ‘This is the first time he’s come to one of my races. In F1, I mean.’
‘Really?’ I twist my face up to look at him.
‘He wanted to come and watch me before, but I asked him not to.’ Guilt flashes across his face. ‘I know it hurt his feelings, but I wanted to do it on my own, without all the comparisons and comments.’
‘That’s understandable.’ I touch his cheek because now isn’t the time for brooding, not when he’s just won a race in front of his home crowd. ‘Although, since you won today, maybe it’s a positive thing, having him around? Like maybe that sense of having to prove yourself helps motivate you?’
‘I didn’t realize you’d thought so much about it.’ He pulls away from me slightly.
‘I didn’t mean …’ I backtrack because his expression seems a little off balance suddenly. I get the feeling I’ve said precisely the wrong thing.
‘Isn’t it possible that my dad doesn’t have anything to do with how I drive?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘I don’t want you to analyse me, Maisie. I have Daphne for that.’
‘You’re right.’ I put a hand on his chest, hearing the hurt in his voice. ‘I’m sorry. I guess it’s just my degree, you know. It’s how I’m trained to think.’
‘Well, please don’t.’ He juts out his chin. ‘I mean it. I’ve already had one girlfriend sell her version of my psyche to the tabloids.’
‘What?’ I wrench my hand away. ‘Are you seriously comparing me to Iris? You think I would ever do that?’
He gives me a long, pained look. ‘No. I don’t. It’s just … all of that stuff about my dad, it triggers me. I’m working on dealing with it, but I’m not there yet.’
I nod, nestling back against him. ‘I understand. For what it’s worth, I think your dad does too.’
‘Maybe.’ He puts his arm round me again, though the sense of shared intimacy is gone. I get the impression his mind is somewhere else completely. ‘It’s getting late. We should get some sleep.’
LUCKILY, MY BAGS WERE mistakenly sent up to Lorenzo’s room after we dropped them off yesterday morning and, since I never got around to moving them into Gio’s, it means I can shower (quietly), put on fresh clothes (also quietly) and then tiptoe across to where Gio is still fast asleep on the sofa. After the way last night ended, I wonder if I ought to just slip out without saying goodbye, but I can’t bear to leave things as they are.
‘Gio?’ I touch a hand to his shoulder.
‘Mmm?’ His gaze is unfocused for a few seconds. ‘Maisie? Where are …?’ His eyes settle on Lorenzo, still lying sprawled across the bed. ‘Oh. Right.’
‘Right.’ I agree. ‘He slept like a baby.’
‘He would.’
‘But my flight leaves in a couple of hours. I have to go.’
‘What?’ He draws his brows together. ‘Already?’
‘Yes, but you’re going on to Baku later today, aren’t you?’
‘So Izabel tells me.’ He rubs his hands over his face and flexes his neck from side to side. ‘But I thought we’d have some time together this morning.’
‘Gio, about last night—’
‘It’s OK,’ he interrupts. ‘I overreacted.’
‘I should have been more sensitive.’
‘How about we make it up to each other when I get back?’ He smiles and then slips his hands round my waist. ‘Unless you want to come with me? I don’t want to wait three weeks to see you again.’
‘I don’t want to wait that long either, but I can’t.’ I lean over, pushing my hands through his hair. ‘Term starts soon.’
‘Three weeks, though …’ He groans. ‘At least let me come down to the lobby with you?’
‘Hey.’ Lorenzo chooses this moment to sit up and clamp a hand to his head. ‘What the hell happened?’
‘Or maybe you should stay here and explain instead?’ I brush my lips against Gio’s. ‘Good luck in Azerbaijan and … where else was it?’
‘Singapore.’ His lips cling on to mine. ‘Will you watch?’
‘Ava will make sure of it. Say goodbye to your dad for me?’
He nods. ‘Text me when you get home.’
‘I will.’ I press my cheek against his, feeling his stubble against my skin, then pick up my bags and head for the door. It’s not the hot, sexy end to my Italian holiday I was hoping for, but at least we’re in a good place. Maybe everything is going to work out, after all.