Chapter 32
JACK
TUSCANY
‘Roberts! Watch my dive!’ I call from the pool’s edge.
‘There’s one thing all women agree on,’ Minnie says from her sun lounger underneath a stripey umbrella, ‘and it’s that the biggest ick is when men do handstands whenever they’re in a pool.’
‘Diving isn’t handstanding. It’s way cooler.’
‘It’s giving handstand energy.’ She raises her Kindle to block me out. Her loss. This dive is going to be a thing of beauty.
I soar through the air, slicing into the water like a god-damn seal. The freshness feels unreal after standing in the midday heat. When I resurface, she still isn’t looking. I pout for a moment before swimming over to her.
I’m not proud of my wobble about having invited her to Luc’s villa for the summer break.
But after a metaphorical slap round the face from Georgie, I felt better, and now I can’t remember what I was nervous about.
There’s no one else I’d rather be here with.
She looks mind-blowing in a purple flowery bikini that rides up her arse so considerately, and shows off the toned planes of her abs.
Her face is make-up free and her hair’s piled messily on top of her head.
She’s flawless, even when she doesn’t try.
Seeing her like this in daylight, enjoying her all to myself, is a gift I don’t deserve.
No late-night hotel rooms, no early morning engagements, no snatches between scheduling conflicts, no bumping into each other at work and having to pretend we barely know each other. All this sneaking around is starting to make me feel like we’re doing something wrong. Like I’m hiding her.
I flick water at her and she squeals, shielding her Kindle.
‘What you reading?’ I ask.
‘Not telling.’
I lift out of the pool and shake my hair like a dog. The sun seeps into my bones and I close my eyes for a moment. It’s been so long since I could do nothing. Two weeks off before we’re back prepping for the Dutch Grand Prix at the end of August, and I’m buzzing.
‘Squidge up,’ I say.
She rolls her eyes but shifts forward on her lounger. ‘What’s wrong with the other seven beds? Urgh, you’re wet!’
I sit behind her and guide her so she’s leaning back against me. ‘This one’s my favourite.’
‘I’ll leave you two alone then and lie on that.’ She nods to the nearest bed.
My arms wind around her stomach. ‘Then that one would be my favourite. Keep up, Roberts. You’re supposed to be the smart one.’
I could hold her like this for days. The only other time we’re this close is when she unknowingly cuddles into me in her sleep.
That’s my favourite time of day, when I stir for a minute or two and find her snuggled against my chest, all inhibitions gone.
Come morning, the spell’s broken and she’s halfway across the bed again.
She tilts her head back against my shoulder. I can practically feel her mind churning. ‘You think I’m really smart, don’t you?’
‘Sure I do, Little Miss Private School who ran a business and articulates herself with meticulous elocution,’ I say, enunciating the crisp consonants like a posho.
She pauses. ‘What would you say if I said I think you’re smarter than me?’
Er, lol. ‘I’d say you’ve got a good sense of humour.’
‘I’m serious! You’re one of the smartest people I know,’ she insists.
‘You can’t know many people then.’
‘Jack!’ She reaches around to smack my shoulder. ‘You study people. You watch other drivers in a way my dad never did. You understand how Micah operates so his mind games can’t affect you.’
‘That’s not smart, that’s being good at my job.’
‘A less smart person wouldn’t know to do that. Was school an issue, is that where underestimating yourself comes from?’
Underestimating myself? I’m more aware of my limitations than most. Not that I feel like having a psych exam, but if it’ll make her happy: ‘I hated school. I messed about a lot. All I wanted to do was drive or play football.’
She nods like I’ve confirmed her suspicions. What happened to doing nothing? Why can’t she quietly read her book while I nap?
‘You also help the mechanics,’ she offers, ‘feeding back on—’
‘That’s practical, not smart.’
‘You’re helping me,’ she says quietly, laying her hands on my arms. I give her a squeeze.
‘None of that’s smart. I can’t do algebra, I don’t know the historical dates of anything, my—’
‘Not book smart, maybe, but that’s not the only kind of intelligence. Logical, spatial, interpersonal, emotional. Most intelligence comes from curiosity, not textbooks. And you, Jack Bowden, are curious.’
No one’s ever called me smart before. If she believes that – and I’m not positive she isn’t just being nice – then she sees me as a better man than I do.
It makes me feel… big. Like I’m not some dumb adrenaline junkie done good, or deep down I’m not still a latch-key kid with bad grades and distracted parents. To Minnie, I’m more.
She stretches her legs and puts her Kindle down, her head still leaning on my shoulder. I bury my face in her hair; it smells like shampoo and sun. I’m turning into an addict. I get antsy if I go too long without inhaling her.
It’s so peaceful out here in this green oasis. I can’t hear the town or beach nearby, just the pool’s water filter and birds chirping in the olive trees.
‘Tell me a secret,’ she says, voice all dreamy like her eyes have been closed too.
I consider telling her about Ted and immediately push the idea away. I don’t know what’s stopping me. She’s trustworthy, I know she is – she’d be pregnant if she wasn’t. I just need a bit more time. I go for something safer. ‘I failed my driving test first time.’
Her head snaps around to look at me. ‘WHAT?!’
‘It was so stupid.’
‘You’ve been driving since you were eight!’
I shake my head remorsefully. ‘I lived in Italy, but I took my test in England.’
‘Oh no…’
‘I went the wrong way around a roundabout. Who knew that’d be an instant fail?’
‘Um, everyone?’
‘The examiner said he’d never seen someone fail so epically.’
‘Christ.’
‘Luc fucking told the team, didn’t he. They put L plates on my race car. Still haven’t let me live it down.’
She settles back against me and slowly, airily, starts to giggle. ‘I can’t believe you did that.’
‘Me neither. How many times did you take?’
‘One.’ The triumph in her voice is annoying. Why did I bother asking?
‘Course you did. Probably had a binder for that too.’ I boop her nose.
She yelps and rockets to her feet. Goosebumps spring all over my body.
‘I’m going to the bathroom,’ she announces.
I lean towards her and play with the stings of her bikini bottom. They’re too tempting. This bikini was surely designed for a girls’ holiday – I could never cope at a hotel with her wearing this. ‘Need a hand?’
Her smile’s long-suffering. ‘You’re relentless.’
‘Yup.’ As she turns to go, I smack her arse and the clap echoes around the garden. I’m still laughing as she disappears inside.
What’s a man to do without entertainment? I search around for my phone when Minnie’s Kindle gleams from the paving stones. They aren’t like diaries, right? I’m not crossing a line? Nah, it’s only a book.
It takes an embarrassingly long time to figure out how to turn the damn thing on, and immediately the word ‘nectar’ piques my attention. When Minnie emerges, she stops at the sight of me grinning like a Cheshire Cat.
‘What is it?’ she mutters, resuming her path around the pool.
‘You’re a horny bastard.’
She doesn’t compute right away – the Kindle’s back where I found it. Then her eyebrows lift above her sunglasses. ‘You read my book!’
‘Do you want to milk me? I’m not a shy guy, so if you want—’
Her blush reaches her hairline. ‘You knew I read romantasy!’
‘Faerie porn, yes, but I didn’t find any faeries. I did find minotaurs, though.’
‘Just one minotaur!’
‘Sorry, my mistake. Are you wanting role play? Should I behave like a minotaur? I guess I could moo.’
Her hands clap over her face. ‘No! And they don’t moo. He wears a suit, for crying out loud.’
I guffaw. ‘Not in the bit I read!’
‘You’re such a child.’ She smacks my leg.
I spread my arms. ‘Get back in here.’
‘Not if you’re going to moo.’
‘I won’t. Promise.’
With a sigh, she rejoins me and props her sunglasses on her head. Tension radiates off her in thick waves, and it makes stifling my moo even harder.
‘Don’t do it,’ she growls.
‘I won’t. I promised.’
‘Mhm. I’ve already got one ick today, I don’t need a second.’
‘What? My dive?’
‘Yup.’
I think I’m genuinely wounded. Tomes should be written about that dive. It took a few tries to get there but that last one was Olympic standard.
I weigh up whether to get serious or not, but in the spirit of openness, I take the punt. ‘Mind-blowing sex isn’t just a fantasy, you know.’
She starts a little. ‘I do. Know that.’ She swallows. ‘Now.’
I rest my nose against her shoulder. ‘Good.’