Chapter 2
Fia
I left at the end of the shoot without saying goodbye to Zoltán or telling him the address of where I was staying, though he’d asked multiple times.
My sister and her motorbike racing boyfriend were driving back to our Airbnb, so I escaped with them, not wanting to say goodbye to Zoltán once he’d changed. Seeing him in leathers was bad enough. Normal people clothes? Now, I couldn’t be drooling over that.
But I worried I might.
Everly hounded me with questions about the new racer. I kept my responses to a minimum, but Luca raised his brows at me through the rear-view mirror when I got tongue-tied over his name.
That man must have supernatural observational skills. Ever was my sisterly soulmate, and even she prattled on after giving up, not suspicious in the slightest.
Livie’s husband had picked out the Airbnb. Nix loved the grand life, and with his family of three growing again in a few months, he was in nesting mode. The five of them often went on trips between the races—Ever, Luca, Livie, Nix, and their toddler daughter, Avia.
In the last few months, they booked places with enough spare rooms for extra guests.
Me.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t big enough to escape the noise of the happy family.
Avia was a terror on two legs now, nearly as fast as her dad on the straight. A few more crashes, though — often into tables and cupboard doors, but anything under a metre was up for grabs.
And the family they had built hurt more than usual because…
Jordan had posted on his story.
A girl. A wine glass. A low-lit restaurant.
A date.
It shouldn’t sting. We’d left it amicably. I wanted to be happy for him.
But I also wanted to be happy.
We’d got together as teenagers and… the spark had died long ago. We’d kept fanning the embers, but it had been half-hearted. I couldn’t take the slow, pathetic death anymore, so I’d doused it with cold water.
Neither of us had been shocked.
We were still friends.
Mum was more gutted than either of us — he was training to be a doctor. When I got my placement at the hospital, she started looking at wedding venues, branding us a ‘power couple’ of medicine.
Maybe this woman he was dating was a medical professional, too.
I was staring at his date’s tanned, ringed hand when the notification came through.
@ZoltánFarkas followed you.
@ZoltánFarkas: 7 p.m.
Then he sent an address.
No ‘hello’ or ‘hey.’
No language. So I guessed he was technically following the rules.
My bribe had been a moment of fake confidence I didn’t truly possess, spoken in my defence. As soon as Everly had started asking questions, I knew I wasn’t going to follow through.
But… I should move on, too.
It was still light and warm, and I’d packed in a rush yesterday. There was nothing sultry or seductive in my suitcase to drive Zoltán wild as I rejected his advances.
So I did what any sister would do.
I snuck into her room.
Luca and Ever landed after I had, but she’d already unpacked her clothes. Luca’s suitcase remained untouched.
If there was a wardrobe ever to fantasise over, it was my sister’s.
And as a proud girlfriend, nearly every item was red or green, supporting the team her boyfriend raced for and our dad used to direct. Ciclati.
Perfect. My allegiance would be clear.
A sage green dress with a fluttery skirt and deep neckline showed all the cleavage I wanted.
Everly was shorter than me, so it looked skimpier on me than on her, but…
I was going to prove that Zoltán didn’t know enough English to seduce just anyone.
And make him really want to.
I carried my heels, not wanting to make any noise to alert Livie and Ever, the cockblock council. I’d only be asked where I was going, what time I’d be home, who I’d be with, would I be drinking, and…
I wanted to answer approximately none of those questions.
On tiptoes, I snuck down the stairs, hearing Avia splashing in the pool, her ‘Dada’ cackling with laughter.
They were having a barbecue. Cooked meat wafted through the open villa, and knowing that Luca made a mean burger, for a heartbeat, I was tempted to stay.
But if Luca and Nix were busy… the girls would probably be taking the time off to relax by the pool.
My main obstacle would be Livie and her constant toilet trips.
Her laughter carried from outside.
Phew.
I straightened my back, not realising I’d adapted the pose of a cartoon character on the search, sans the magnifying glass, but with much more cleavage.
“Ever, I know the difference between chardonnay and—” Luca said, coming out of the kitchen with a glass and a wine bottle.
He frowned, looking me up and down.
“You’re dressed up for—” His eyes caught on the heels, and he resumed the expression from the car, grinning.
As soon as he opened his mouth around his smile, I attacked, grabbing his arm and trying to shush him.
“Everly,” he called, laughing. “We’ve got a thief.”
“Shut up!” I cried, slamming my hand over his mouth.
Ever came in through the patio doors, stomping her wet feet on the tiled floor. Her bikini was dripping, her dark hair soaked.
And I released Luca with a sigh.
I was truly caught.
“Where are you sneaking off to in my dress?” she asked, frowning and then biting a chunk out of a celery stick.
“Just out.”
Her dull expression rooted me to the floor.
“You’ve been working here five minutes, and already you’re rebounding with a racer? Babe, pace yourself.”
Luca cleared his throat, and she glared at him, silently demanding he shut up.
He wouldn’t follow my demands, but hers? Always.
“No one said anything about a rebound.”
She blinked at me before gesturing dramatically at my attire.
Luca sipped the wine, eyes ping-ponging between his entertainment.
When I said nothing, she placed a hand on her hip and rifled through her bag on the dining table behind me. “Share your location. Use protection.” She threw a tiny square at me. “No emotional attachment. In that order.”
“Everly!”
Because she had just chucked a condom at me.
She shrugged and took the wine from Luca, muttering about how she was willing to key Zoltán’s car if it didn’t work out.
Relieved that was all, I made a run for it out of the villa and onto the street, only bothering to put my shoes on when the taxi pulled up.
The ride was short, but my toes tapped against the leather seat before me.
I’d be nervous for any date.
I’d never been on one.
Not as an adult anyway.
So, it was a good thing it was with someone who wanted one thing from me.
And wasn’t going to get it.
I wasn’t going to care how this went down, but I couldn’t shift the humming knot of anxiety in my stomach.
The bar Zoltán had sent me to was alive with sparkling lights, the tingle of jazz music, and loud chatter.
It was the exact kind of place I envisioned Zoltán wooing his dates.
It wasn’t far from the harbour, where I was sure he’d take them on the guise of a romantic walk, as they were naively led closer to his hotel with each step, after hydrating her with numerous over-priced cocktails.
I scrolled on my phone outside, unwilling to see the happy, flirting couples through the glass doors. It looked packed.
Secretly, I hoped Zoltán hadn’t been able to book, and we’d get turned away. If his ego was bruised, I might find him less attractive.
The roar of a bike closed my eyes and forced a deep breath to ready myself for whatever cliche Zoltán was going to be tonight.
Didn’t he know who my dad was?
Riding a motorbike wasn’t the flex he thought it was. I had a motorbike.
I was already cringing.
He stopped right in front of me, and the stereotype just kept on going. Black jeans, black top, black leather jacket. Black helmet.
I knew black and purple were his team colours, but come on.
Next, he’d have his racing number tattooed on him.
He pulled his helmet off, and I was jolted into the memory of him in his leathers, unzipped down his stomach.
I clenched.
Had he become more attractive in the last few hours? I wasn’t sure it was possible. He was right; he was infuriatingly hot.
Ugh.
He gestured to the bike with both hands.
My brows skyrocketed. “Excuse me?”
He spoke clearly, carefully, as if he’d rehearsed the words. “Please. Motorbike.”
Unlike the way he’d spoken at the shoot.
“Most people start with a ‘hello.’ Surely you have that word in your arsenal.”
He grunted, rolling his neck. “Hello.”
One point to Zsófia.
My grin was wide, and he paused, holding the spare helmet, before sighing and putting it over my head. He flicked up the visor. I was still smiling.
He rolled his eyes. “Motorbike. Please.”
I shook my helmeted head. “Not that you’ve commented on it, but I’m sure you’ve noticed I’m in a hot as shit dress. I can’t get on a bike in my heels.”
His expression looked bored as he took off his leather jacket and stood behind me to help thread my arms through the sleeves. He leaned forward as he scooped my hair out from under the jacket and whispered in my ear, “You say—no seduce. Yes?”
My shoulders rolled back. His accent should be a criminal offence. It was an assault on my nervous system.
“I said that, yeah,” I breathed, turning to him and hating the helmet for crushing my hair and keeping my lips so far away from his.
He gestured to my dress in the same way my sister had, but his eyes were hungry. “But dress?”
Being covered in his huge leather jacket took away all of my shape, but he still looked me over with hungry eyes.
“Just because it’s green doesn’t mean it’s the go-ahead.”
“Green,” he repeated. “Ciclati.”
“Not purple for Veltar, no.”
He grabbed the chin on the helmet and pulled me an inch closer to him, kidnapping my breath. “Next time. Purple. Me.”
“Next time?” I taunted. “Who knew you were so sweet?”
He zipped up the jacket, taking my biggest asset from his view. My tits. “Sweet? No. You beg. Say—Zoltán, dress off. Please.” Those last few words he rasped in a higher pitch.
In the exact way I’d breathed when he’d touched my neck. Shit.
One all.