Chapter 4 #2
“We haven’t talked for weeks. And now you want to. In person. Do you not use your phone for anything other than posting pictures?”
I blinked, unsure if I’d lost all ability to comprehend words.
Because I still didn’t understand.
“You wanted me to send you pictures?”
I’d never sent nudes in my life. My relationship with Jordan had been a decaffeinated latte with a double shot of vanilla.
“I want you to send me words. Texts.”
I knew those words. They flowed. Semantically, they made sense.
But did I believe them from his mouth?
“And I want you to tell me why you were sick.”
He rolled his neck again and started to walk, but I grabbed his arm and tugged him back.
“What’s going on with you?”
“I ate something bad. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to need to shit too.”
My hand slipped from his leathers.
What a fucking asshole.
I watched him walk away, trying to keep my breath even, giving him enough time to walk ahead so hopefully I wouldn’t see that fucker again.
Not until I’d have to translate for him the next day.
Even if he didn’t win, he was fresh meat, so the producers already had a small segment ready for him. I was meant to talk to him about it today with Livie, but there was no way now.
* * *
I went to my Nana’s house, not far from the Southern France Alvaro Mendes Track, where my dad grew up. My real one. The one that raised me.
There were no ‘half-sister’ or ‘step-sister’ labels in our household. There was my family, the Bacques, and then there was Imre. He was a semen donor.
A quitter.
A cheater.
And nothing to me.
Whereas I just needed a hug from my dad.
And five cheese boards to myself.
I didn’t tell him about Imre being there because I knew he’d give that look — the narrowed eyes, the wrinkles growing over his forehead, the tight lip. And he’d leave the room to make some calls to get Imre out of StormSprint.
People were begging to please Cris Bacque, the previous director of the strongest performing team in StormSprint history.
And all I wanted was a cuddle.
If Everly hadn’t arrived a few hours after for our family dinner, I would have asked to stay the night, but I knew that would ring alarm bells because I was having the best time ever in my new job, finishing my degree, and living with my friends.
Back in our villa, I got comfy on the sofa, armed with a tub of ice cream, and searched through the social media of the MotoBike team Zoltán and Imre used to work for.
I swiped through their recent posts announcing his replacement and then the last year, when Zoltán had been in rehab awaiting his medical clearance.
There.
Zoltán had lost a significant amount of muscle since the crash.
His previous leathers must have been at least two sizes up from what he was in.
I wasn’t sure which version I preferred, the one that looked like a caveman willing to fuck me in that primitive way, or the lean, cocky, muscular abs I wanted to lick and weren’t quite as intimidating.
Who was I kidding? He’d fucked me like an animal anyway.
Those dirty thoughts evaporated when I swiped through Zolt’s account — past all I’d already stalked — and saw a picture of him and Imre.
My one-night-stand stood a few inches above my donor, his arm around his shoulders as they smiled at the camera.
Then, another where they were hugging in the background.
Gross.
Imre best do as I’d asked and not tell anyone we were related. Even if they seemed friendly.
Another swipe stopped my breathing.
Zoltán was still in the background, but this time his hands were all over a petite redhead in his old team’s colours.
I squinted, trying to see her better. There was something about the exact strawberry shade of her hair that I recognised. With my finger and thumb, I zoomed in, avoiding his hold on her, instead going for her beaming face.
Livie huffed as she collapsed on the sofa, kicking off her slides and dragging the blanket beside me to cuddle. “Was he an asshole?”
I tried to hide my screen, but she’d already seen my research.
“That’s why you left, right?” she said around a yawn. “Because he’s a wanker. He was in a foul mood when I met with him.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I know you needed me to—”
She waved a lazy hand. “He understands enough, and the schedule you made for him, he really appreciated. He asked me to thank you.” When I didn’t stop chewing my lip, she said, “And you’ll be there tomorrow to screen what he says.”
Maybe I should have spoken to Imre in Hungarian. To get the practice in.
I unlocked my phone and stared in horror.
“What?” Livie asked, frowning.
The red heart mocked me, bright on the screen.
“I… I just…” Liked his photo from two years ago?
This is why I shouldn’t be nosy and zoom in on pretty girls that I was definitely not jealous of!
Oh my shit.
I turned the phone to show her.
Her expression didn’t change for a moment, then her eyes widened, and she pursed her lips to stop from laughing. “Liking a photo of him and his girlfriend? Nice move, little Bacque.”
If I threw my phone in the pool, would it take back the last five minutes of activity?
If I changed my username and picture to something like feet pics, would he realise it was me?
No, he would because we’d messaged.
There was no going back.
Nix silently walked into the living room and handed Livie a peppermint tea before pulling a chair up beside her. He looked tired. “Avia’s still not asleep. I’ve been trying for two hours. Ever’s taken over.”
“Fia’s just liked Zoltán’s picture from two years ago.”
He nodded and grimaced. “Yeah, you’ve got it worse.”
“What do I do?”
“Be honest about it,” Nix said and took one of Livie’s feet to massage.
Fuck, I wanted that. Not Nix. But someone to bring me my nightly tea, massage my feet, and be the most loving father.
Not necessarily right now, though.
No babies yet.
“It had his girlfriend in the picture.”
Nix chortled. “Ah, delete your account then. You’re too far gone.”
Did they all know I’d hooked up with him?
“He has a girlfriend?” I asked. That photo was two years ago.
Livie took a sip of her tea, eyes closed. “He’s very secretive. The only thing he publicly talks about is his grandfather, which makes sense, seeing as he’s the best racer in history.”
Nix cleared his throat, cocking a brow.
“Sorry, second-best racer of all time,” Livie corrected with a soft smile. “He was the first generation of bike racing. You see a poster of a vintage bike? He’s likely the face riding it.”
“A lot to live up to,” I mumbled. “But the girlfriend?”
Livie tried to hide her smile.
Nix’s face was stoic. “Don’t go there, Fia. Find someone emotionally stable.”
“He had a girlfriend, but I haven’t heard anything about them staying together… When I saw them yesterday, it wasn’t like that.” She gestured to the phone again.
“Yesterday?”
“She transferred as Prixton’s grid girl for the season,” she said. “Everly said she’s nice.”
And desperate.
Clearly.
Or… in love? In a relationship?
Had he fucked me on the cliff — the most primal and somehow romantic thing anyone had ever planned for me — while in a committed relationship?
I dropped my phone from one hand to the other, again and again. If I had his number, I’d call him. But I didn’t even have that.
And I couldn’t bear to go back onto Instagram.
“I heard my name,” Everly said, coming down the stairs.
“Avia asleep?” Nix asked.
She shook her head, sitting between Livie and me. “Luca’s taken over. Apparently, he’s much better at telling princess stories.”
Nix snorted and took Livie’s empty mug, leaving for the kitchen.
“We’re talking about Zoltán’s girlfriend. Or ex-girlfriend. We’re not sure.”
Everly cocked her head, looking at me through her brows in disbelief. “Her name is Nora. She’s really nice if she’s not your girlfriend.”
Livie, who had looked like she was about to start snoring, sat up, blinking. “Well, go on.”
“I don’t think they’re together. Not romantically anyway.”
My chest rose with a full, relieved breath.
Ever looked me up and down, lip curling. “Chill. She broke up with him while he was in the hospital. I’m pretty sure she started seeing another racer before he woke up from the coma. Which he was in for only a week.”
“So a raging bitch,” I said.
“Ooh, someone’s defensive of her loverboy,” Everly teased and scoffed when I threw a cushion at her face.
She clutched my weapon of choice to her chest, confiscating it from me.
“I hope they’re not together. Though she walked straight into the paddock like she owned his cock. I think he was trying to avoid her.”
My nose wrinkled.
“And she couldn’t shut up about him while I was training the new girls. But it was giving arrogance, not love.”
Maybe she and Zoltán were perfect for each other then.