38. Nevaeh
Gabriel ended up winning the race with James coming in second, Kyle in third, and Val in fourth. I was so happy for her, I gave her the biggest hug afterward. We didn’t go out to celebrate that weekend. Instead, I stayed in my hotel room, completely immersing myself in my article for Gabriel.
On Monday evening, I submitted it along with the photos I took, but I got no response from Mrs. Lu or Ms. Martin. It’s Tuesday afternoon now, and I haven’t slept much in the past forty-eight hours. It’s one of the reasons why I hate flying, I can never sleep on the plane.
My heavy eyelids barely stay open while I look at my broken camera, trying to see how bad the damage is. The screen is shattered and beyond salvageable. The lens I was using is broken, too.
I scroll through the cameras Papa and Nova sent me as replacement suggestions.
Since I need one for work now, I won’t get around buying a new one as soon as possible, but it has to be in my price range, which makes choosing a new one infinitely more difficult.
Ms. Martin’s name appears on my screen, and I suck in a sharp breath through my teeth. My boss calling me unscheduled is definitely not a good sign.
Maybe she hated my article.
Maybe she’s going to fire me, after all.
Maybe I’m not good enough.
Overthinking in situations like these is my specialty. Any situation really.
“Hello?” I answer the phone, holding my breath while I wait for her to talk.
“Nevaeh, how are you?” she asks, and we small-talk for a moment about my trip back to Monaco and how she’s been. “Listen, there is something I need to discuss with you,” Ms. Martin starts, making my hands shake uncontrollably.
“Am I in trouble?” I can’t help but ask. Not knowing what she’s going to say is killing me.
Uncertainty is poison for a person with anxiety.
Ironic because the antidote isn’t always certainty either.
“That depends, and I’m sorry to have to ask, but are you involved with Mr. Romana? It has been brought to my attention that the two of you have been growing closer.”
My heart drops into my stomach.
“What has prompted this line of questioning?” I ask, my heart racing and a cold sweat breaking out across my back. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Mr. Fender has mentioned seeing you and Mr. Romana sharing a hug on Sunday after his crash.”
Of course, he mentioned it.
“Mr. Romana and I have been growing closer, as friends and only friends. I have also been growing closer to Ms. Romana, Mr. Biancheri, as well as Ms. Romana’s race engineer, and many other people I’m working with. Formula One is a community with caring and kind people. It’s difficult not to befriend them,” I reply, hoping it will convince her that I’ve been doing everything right.
I hate lying, but it’s also not fun that my job is controlling my life.
“I understand. Just remember the rule,” she reminds me, even though it’s not necessary. I’ve memorized this rule.
“I will,” I promise and wipe my face.
My Omi used to say, “Promises, promises. They’re as thin as paper, but, sometimes, they can tie you to a decision for a lifetime.”
I didn’t understand what she meant at the time, that a piece of paper could hold so much power. As I got older, learned about contracts and marriage certificates, the meaning became a lot clearer.
I don’t want to be tied to this promise when I have no intention of keeping it.
“Now, for the good part of this call, I wanted to tell you how wonderful your article was. It will be published tomorrow. I’m just waiting for Mr. Biancheri’s team to approve it,” she says, and I smile brightly.
“Gabriel loved it, so I hope they do as well,” I reply and stand up to stretch my legs.
My apartment looks so empty, it irritates me. Luckily, Val is picking me up to go bed and mattress shopping soon. I can’t sleep on the floor tonight, after all. It’s my first night by myself in the apartment, and, as excited as I am to have independence and freedom, I’m also a little scared.
“You sent it to him before giving it to me?” Ms. Martin asks, pulling me back to the conversations.
“Yes, of course. I believe the driver should have a say first, considering this is a very intimate article and interview that we do,” I explain, my finger trailing over my window sill.
“That’s very thoughtful, Nevaeh. I’m proud of you.” A smile grows on my face at her praise.
We hang up soon after, and I make my way downstairs to meet Val at three o’clock, just like she told me to. A pick-up truck stands in front of my building, and I cock a brow at it before looking for my friend’s car instead.
“Get in,” his familiar voice fills my ears.
Sunglasses cover his light eyes, and the way he sits in the truck, one hand on the wheel while the other lies on the middle console, has my knees a little weak. He’s annoyingly attractive.
“I’m taking you mattress shopping,” he says, and I shake my head.
“No, thank you. I’m waiting for Val,” I reply and pull out my phone to call her.
If she let him come instead of her and didn’t tell me, then I have a bone to pick with her. We had a girl’s day planned.
The phone rings for a moment before her ringtone appears from inside of Adrian’s car. He places the device to his ear and smiles.
“Hello?” I hear his voice through the phone and in front of me. “I took her phone and keys so she couldn’t stop me from going with you. Now, please,beautiful, get in the car,” he pleads, and I let out another laugh.
This man is impossible.
I climb into the truck, and Adrian holds out a to-go cup for me.
“Your favorite, a hazelnut hot chocolate.”
“How did you find that out? I didn’t tell you,” I reply and he gives me a satisfied smirk.
“I asked your sister,” he says nonchalantly, still grinning at me.
“Nova needs to stop telling you about my favorite things,” I say, making him nod in agreement.
“Damn straight. You should be the one telling me so I can spoil you more efficiently.”
“You shouldn’t spoil me at all. I’m not your girlfriend.” Especially not after that phone call with Ms. Martin.
“Technicalities,” he mumbles, waving his hand like he’s dismissing my comment.
I laugh a little before thanking him for my drink.
My eyes study the simple, black interior design of the truck. The familiar “new car smell” fills my nose, and I notice there isn’t a single speck of dirt anywhere.
“Did you buy this truck?” I ask him, but he shakes his head while turning the key in the ignition.
“I rented it for today. Now, before we go, are we okay?” he says, causing me to shift my head in his direction. “Since we kissed, we haven’t really spent time together, so I just wanted to make sure you don’t hate me now,” he says, lifting his sunglasses to show me he means every word.
“Of course we’re okay.”
Adrian has done nothing wrong. My feelings are complicated. They are causing all the trouble in my life when the only thing that matters is how happy Adrian and my relationship makes me. Friends or friends who like each other more than friends, it doesn’t matter. I like how I feel when I’m with him.
“Good, because I have something else for you, and I didn’t want you to think I’m bribing you into agreeing we’re okay if that’s not how you feel,” he admits while reaching back to grab something.
He brings a camera to the front and places it on my lap. My jaw drops as my heart forgets its rhythm.
“Adrian—” I start, but he interrupts me before I can complain.
“None of that. Thank me or don’t say anything,” he instructs, rolling his lips to keep from laughing and stay serious.
“Thank you,” I say and lean over to press a kiss to his cheek.
The corners of his mouth curl into a smile while heat settles on my cheeks, most likely painting them a deep shade of red.
He turns on the radio to break the tension, and I stop breathing when Dylan Scott’s voice fills the car.
“You like country music?” I ask when I see him mouthing the lyrics of ‘Can’t Take Her Anywhere.’ He grins, but his eyes stay on the road, making me feel safe and giddy at the same time.
“Yeah, but we can change it if you want,” he offers. I reach out to turn up the volume.
“Dylan Scott is one of my favorite artists,” I explain.
Seconds later, we’re singing our hearts out to the music. No one has ever enjoyed country music with me, not my sister, Aileen, Papa, Mama, or even Lincoln when we were still friends. None of them, except Adrian now.
My chest fills with a sweet warmth as the biggest smile covers my lips. ‘New Truck’ starts blasting through the speakers, and we both scream along, not caring how horrible we probably sound. I’m laughing so hard, my stomach starts to cramp in the best way.
“Not there, Nevaeh, how many times do I have to tell you it goes on the other side?” Adrian asks, and we both burst into laughter. He points to the instructions, making me almost fall over.
“It’s in fucking French, are you kidding me?”
Tears of amusement push out of my eyes while I place my hand over my now cramping stomach. I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard. We’ve been trying to build my bed for the past two hours, but neither of us is good at these kinds of things.
“I have to teach you. You have to learn French if you’re going to live in Monaco,” he points out and studies the paper again.
This is hopeless. We’re obviously incapable of accomplishing this tonight.
“Okay, I’m calling time of death. I’m too tired to keep going,” I say and stretch my arms into the air before yawning. Adrian yawns too, making us both chuckle.
“Val and James will be able to help tomorrow,” Adrian assures me, standing up and walking over to my mattress.
He rips the plastic off while I watch, admiring the way his arm muscles are flexing with the motion.
“Well, I was supposed to do this with her, not you,” I remind him with a smile.
Adrian frowns for a split second before dropping my mattress onto the floor and walking over to the sheets we bought.
“She wouldn’t have made you laugh as much as I did.” He unfolds the sheets to spread them over what will have to do as my bed for now.
“Yes, because she would have been able to read the instructions properly,” I tease, and he throws the bedding down.
“You know what? I’m done helping,” he says.
“Sure, call it ‘helping,’” I reply, and he grabs his jacket before walking toward the door. “Adrian! I’m joking. Please, stay,” I laugh, and he spins back around, crossing the room and falling on top of me with a heavy thud. “Oh my God,” I choke out and try to push him off me, but Adrian has become limp and heavy as a rock. “I can’t breathe,” I say, but he doesn’t release me. I try to heave him off again and fail since my back is flat on the ground and I’ve always been horrible at bench pressing.
“Have you learned your lesson?” he asks, and I giggle uncontrollably underneath him.
“Yes, I’ve learned my lesson. Please, get off,” I beg, and, finally, he rolls over.
My laughter still fills the almost empty room, and he joins with a chuckle that makes my heart warm. We’re both on the floor now, me on my back and Adrian on his stomach. He studies my face with the same intensity that I do his.
Silence surrounds us, allowing me to listen to my racing heart.
His fingers move to my cheek, cupping my face as his thumb runs over my bottom lip.
“I have a really hard time not touching you,” he says softly. My eyes close as his thumb continues to trace my lips. “You’re mon paradis, Nevaeh.” I tilt my head to get closer to his touch.
Adrian’s lips are barely a few centimeters away from mine now. Our breaths are one, but I lean away again to clear my mind.
“I think you have the wrong person, Adrian. You might be attracted to me, but you’re not that attracted to me that I’d tilt your whole word on its axis and make you want things you never have before,” I say, trying to convince myself as much as him of this. Maybe the reminder will help me keep a healthy distance between us.
Adrian stands up and holds out his hand to lift me off the ground, too. I slide mine into his, the air whooshing out of me as he helps me up, pulling me close. My hands slip onto his hips, enjoying the hardness of his body against mine.
“You really are stubborn once you’ve set your mind on something,” he points out, and I’d laugh if my body wasn’t pressed up against his if the ache between my legs didn’t make me dizzy. “If you’re questioning how attracted I am to you, then you’ve not been paying attention to me, mon ange.”
Adrian grabs my hand and places it over his chest, allowing me to feel his accelerated heartbeat.
“Feel that? Now, if I wasn’t so incredibly attracted to you, didn’t want you as much as I do, having you pressed up against me wouldn’t excite me this much, would it? It wouldn’t make my heart race,” he says, and I lower my arms until my fingers rest on his stomach.
“I guess not,” I mumble with a shy smile that heats up my face.
“You guess not? Mon Dieu, Nevaeh, you are so frustrating,” he replies and lets go of me to make my bed.
I join him, but neither one of us says another word until we’re finished.
Adrian is fluffing out my pillow when I realize, like I do every time we spend the day together, that I”m not ready for him to leave yet.
“You know, I fell asleep before the movie ended last time. Do you want to watch it again?” I ask, and he pulls his sweatshirt over his head before removing his socks without a second of hesitation. He drops onto my bed, and I laugh as I grab my laptop and join him.
Adrian opens his arms for me when I’ve hit play on the movie, and I bury myself in them, nuzzling into his side.
“If you fall asleep, try not to snore so much this time, yeah?” he asks after a while, and I push off him to show him the scowl on my face.
Adrian places his arms under his head while smirking, looking like sex on a platter. Not good… not good at all. I lie on his chest again and smack his stomach.
“I won’t snore if you contain your farts,” I reply, and he tickles my sides to make me giggle.
He releases me quickly, sliding his arm back around my shoulders. The sound of his heart racing fills me in a different way now, one I’ve never felt before. It’s racing for me, for the feelings it harbors inside of it for me.
Adrian’s lips press against my head, lingering for a moment.
“Will you tell me about your anxiety? I would like to understand it better if you’re comfortable sharing.” I run a hand over his stomach, leaning my head back to study his mouth.
“I get anxiety attacks sometimes, mostly when I’m overwhelmed, stressed, tired, or when I get close to having my period. I get anxiety-induced insomnia at times, too, which is a pain because I get so frustrated that I can’t sleep, it gives me more anxiety. I hate the feeling of claustrophobia, it triggers an anxiety attack. Going out of my comfort zone and trying new things? Even worse, but I do it. I push myself because life doesn’t go easy on anyone, especially on those with mental illnesses.
“Some days feel like fighting a battle when your limbs are glued to the ground and you can’t get up. Other days are much better. There’s no single explanation for my anxiety but a hundred different ones that could apply to how I feel, how lost I get. My anxiety comes in different shapes too. It can be an uneasy feeling in my chest, barely there but reminding me it exists. It can also be a heavy weight on my body.”
I take a break to breathe, watching Adrian’s thumb lift to my lips and tracing my bottom one. He’s concentrated on my mouth, on the words falling from it.
“I have symptoms too, handshaking, heavy and shallow breathing, hyperventilating, and so on, but I usually have enough time to call my sister and ask her to help with my ‘Code Blue.’ That’s what we call it.” Adrian’s fingers drop to the bracelet he got me, trailing over the blue heart charm.
“What does she say to help you?” he asks, sliding his hand over my hip and toward the small of my back to drag me against his chest.
“She helps me breathe. Counts with me, you know? Inhale, hold, exhale,” I explain, and he nods, rubbing an infinity symbol onto my back. Or maybe it’s an eight. I’m not entirely sure. I don’t care either way because both are sweet.
One is his number.
The other is a promise of forever.
“So best if I’m nowhere near you when you have an anxiety attack, considering I take your breath away, right?” A laugh bursts out of me, and I nudge him. Adrian chuckles with me, holding on tight. “I’ve got you, you know? Whenever you need me. If you can’t get a hold of your sister, call me. Come to me. I’ll breathe with you,” he promises, so I tilt my head up and kiss his jaw.
“Thank you.”
Silence engulfs us for a moment, the movie already over when he trails a hand down my spine.
“I love spending the night with you, which is a weird thing for me. The only two reasons why I sleep next to a woman are either when Val doesn’t want to sleep alone or when I pass out next to a random girl I fucked.” I frown at his words, but Adrian tickles me a little to make me giggle.
“Why do you?” I ask, and he raises both his brows.
“Why did I have sex with strangers?” I nod as he pulls me closer. Our noses brush before he focuses on answering my question. “I think it has to do with my mother abandoning Val and me at a young age. I loved her more than anything, I remember it clear as day, but, all of a sudden, she was just gone. The thought of falling in love with someone and risking the destruction a heartbreak can bring wasn’t appealing. At least not until—” He cuts off abruptly, but Adrian doesn’t have to finish the sentence. We both know he means me and suddenly, my heart is racing.
“Until the girl from the club, I know,” I tease, making him roll onto his stomach to groan into my mattress. He swears in French for a few moments, and I wait patiently for him to lift his head again. A chuckle escapes me when he shakes his head.
“You’re the woman who teases me, makes me laugh from deep within, and has me on my knees without trying to. You’re the one I can’t fucking get over, and I haven’t even been under you. It’s ridiculous,” he complains.
Maybe Adrian didn’t say this, and I’m simply so sleepy that I’m making everything up in my head, but when he brings his mouth closer to mine to make our noses touch again, I know he really said it.
“You like me,” I whisper, but he doesn’t give me a response. All he does is move his head from side to side to make our noses brush one another. “You can’t like me,” I say, our words causing tears to shoot into my eyes. “I’m so confused and selfish with my career,” I add.
“You’re not selfish. If anything, I’m the one who keeps confusing you more,” he says, and I lift my gaze to meet his. “If all I could ever have with you was this, I want you to know, it’d be enough for me.” He presses a kiss on my forehead. “Any version of us is enough for me.”
“I feel the same.”
My words tumble out of me, making a strange realization settle inside of me. I’d risk a lot for this man, but I’m the one who would be risking everything while his job would not be affected.
But I have a feeling that risking my job means little compared to the risk he’s placing on his heart.
“But I want more. And you deserve more,” is the last thing I hear myself saying as my eyelids grow heavier.
Although I try not to, I fall asleep with his familiar cologne filling my nose and strong arms bringing nothing but comfort.