15. Sophia
15
Sophia
Sitting across from Javi, I forget that I went all desperate house spouse on him and made a move. But fuck, it was a great outcome from said move. And something I keep thinking about.
Do I peek at Javi a little more when he is walking around the pits? Yes.
Has Javi popped up in the best sex dreams I have had? Again, yes.
Did my thighs just double-clench at him calling me 'ace'? Abso-fucking-lutely.
I’ve kept things professional with him, and he has respectfully reciprocated. It hasn’t been weird, even though I was expecting it to be a little weird. He is a good person and easy to talk to—even easier to flirt with. We have no issues chatting and working together. The words come out effortlessly and I am relaxed around him. He inspires calm and stillness within me while simultaneously stirring up an animalistic, agitated need deeper down. I can’t make heads or tails of it.
Even sitting here talking to him about work, my eyes can’t help but appreciate the way his brown hair messily halos his head in loose curls. How his tattoos skirt across the muscles of his arms. I focus in on the flicks of black ink, teasingly popping up from his collar. His eyes stare so deeply at me, really seeing me while I am, yet again, talking his ear off at a million miles a minute.
“Absolutely, ace.”
His voice sounds a little gravelly, like I haven’t let him talk at all, like his voice hasn’t had a chance to warm up or say anything. And that smirk that pulls at the side of his mouth? Where can I buy some stronger self-control?
Clearing my throat, I say, “Okay, I have yammered enough about work on your break. I’ve got my coffee, so I’ll see you back there.” I jolt up and get out of there before anything else happens.
The cool Antarctic air from the Bass Strait hits my face, and I am relieved it is abrasive in my throat as I draw in a breath to steady myself. I walk slowly back to the pit to calm my breathing, hoping the flush from my face is not noticeable. Strikingly colourful team trailers line up to my left. Their equipment has long been emptied into the pit boxes for the month-long racing stay at this track, so there is currently no one around. I am relieved no eyes will see my flustered state. Stopping, I breathe in a long breath again and put my hand on my hip, keeping a death grip on my coffee.
“Sophia,” Javi calls from behind me. Spinning around, I see him break from his jog.
I give a nod to acknowledge him, not trusting my voice right now.
“Can I take you out tonight?” he asks once he reaches me.
I pause, the shock taking a while for my brain to catch up. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea…” I reply, shaking my head and looking away from his piercing eyes. Those eyes alone could convince me.
“We had a good time that night, it could be interesting to see where it could go. We get along really well, and work hasn’t been affected by that night, either,” he adds.
“Maybe ‘no’ for all of those reasons,” I reply, still not looking at him. This is so hard, I am struggling.
Javi grabs my free hand and leads me in between the trailers, away from any potential people walking to and from the hospitality tent. He stops and turns to face me. “Sophia, I can’t explain it, but I feel something different with you. I can’t escape this feeling. Do you feel it, too?” He puts my hand on his chest over his heart, and I melt.
“I don’t know. I still feel so lost and broken. I don’t want to take you down this path with me. And we shouldn’t with working so closely together. I’m still grieving. And what would people think?” I mutter, trying to convince myself. Our bodies are so close together.
Warm hands cup my face, and I waver as I am forced to look into Javi’s beautiful, brown eyes. Before I try to figure out if I should indulge and kiss him, his lips press against mine. I feel the heat spread through my body as he drops his hands down my neck, to my back, embracing me. My free hand goes to his hair, and I deepen the kiss. Reasons don’t matter in this moment, and I hate myself for standing in my own way. I romanticise about letting myself think I can do this with him, allowing myself to see where this can go, but I remove my hand from his hair, bringing it to his chin when I finally break away from his lips. We are both breathless and I really, really hate that I have to say.
“We can’t. I feel so broken. It’s not fair on you.” I peel myself away from him before he can see my eyes tear up. I don’t dare look back at him, because I might just run straight back into his arms.