Page 24

“Here.” Nicky looks around the empty space around us and then puts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me even closer like it’s the most natural thing in the world to do .

I double-check we’re alone and then drop my head against his chest.

“You alright?” His deep voice is right in my ear and I shudder.

From the fever. Not from his hot breath on my skin.

“Yep.”

We sit in silence for a bit while I struggle against the urge to nuzzle my nose into his chest.

“Hey, Nicky?” I ask to distract myself from my inappropriate thoughts.

“Yes?” He’s taken off his sunglasses and I happily gaze up into his soft brown eyes.

What was I going to ask him again?

“Do you still enjoy racing?”

His eyes shift from me and onto the horizon. “Why do you ask?”

I bite my lip. “It just sometimes feels like maybe you…don’t?”

He doesn’t respond for so long that I worry I’ve offended him. Is it rude to tell a person they seem unhappy doing the one thing in life they excel at?

Though, come to think of it, Nicky excels at many things.

“I do still love racing,” he finally answers, his voice hushed. “I guess I just don’t love everything else that comes with it.”

“Like?” I prompt. From where I’m sitting, the whole thing looks so fulfilling.

“Like the politics of the sport. Do you know we’re not allowed to make any political statements or speak on ‘sensitive topics?’ We’re one of the biggest sporting organisations in the world and we choose to race in countries where basic human rights are being denied to its people.

And we’re not allowed to say anything about it. ”

I swallow hard at the passion in his voice. He’s obviously thought long and hard about this .

“And then there’s the constant travel. The never being in the one place long enough to enjoy it.

I have a home in Monaco I barely ever see.

A garden I never get to tend to. My schedule means I rarely have time enough to come home and see my family.

To see you. Do you know there were three years there where I didn’t see you? ”

Of course I know that. I’ve always been aware of the long periods between getting a glimpse of him in the flesh. I just hadn’t realised he’d also noticed these time gaps as well.

“My parents are getting older, and even though we don’t have the closest relationship, I wish I could spend more time with them as well.”

Nicky’s parents aren’t the sort of people one would describe as warm and fuzzy.

They are both busy corporate lawyers who seemed to have little time for their only son; when he was growing up, they were more than happy to send him to stay with his best friend’s family over every school holiday break.

As a teenager, he was always more reticent than Matt, the two of them having opposed, yet complementary personalities.

Looking back, I think this may have been because Nicky grew up…

lonely. An only child to absent parents, it made sense that he preferred being at our house as much as he did.

It also makes sense that he grew up to earn a reputation for being aloof and cold, when in reality he’s just reserved.

“I get that,” I say in a soft voice. “But I’ve seen you out there, Nicky. I know how much you love racing.”

I feel the whisper of his lips over my hair and I snuggle into him further. If I could, I’d burrow right under his skin.

“I do love it. The time I feel most alive is in those moments just before ‘lights out.’ When it’s just me and the car, everything goes still and quiet. I can feel my heart beating and it’s when I fall in love with racing all over again.”

The way he describes it? I long to feel the way he feels. It sounds incredible.

“I’ve experienced nothing like that.” I pull away to stare into his face. “You’re lucky to do a job where you get to feel like that.”

He stares back at me, his lips parted, his chest rising and falling. As I drown in his eyes, the world around me stills and I can feel the blood rushing through my veins.

Hmm, perhaps I have felt that ‘lights out’ feeling after all. Every time I’m close to him.

His arm tightens around my shoulder and the air around us shifts as he moves closer into my space. This time, I lick my lips, the universal sign waving him in for a kiss and I swear for a millisecond that he thinks about it.

“Let’s get some gelato,” he says instead of planting his lips on mine. I groan softly as he shifts away from me, once again creating distance between us.

I grit my teeth and try to smile at him. I know he’s doing the right thing, the sensible thing, in keeping an arms-length between us, especially out in public. Especially when I’m sick. But I can’t say I’m not disappointed.

“Sounds good.”

We walk back to the hotel along the river, reminiscing about the time when I was seven and he was fifteen, and he and Matt were teaching me how to ride a bike.

It was a futile task my parents had long given up on, claiming I was chronically unbalanced, but one afternoon, my brother and Nicky decided to take up the mantle.

After twenty minutes of sheer frustration, Matt waved the white flag of defeat, returning inside to his beloved Xbox instead, while his best friend stayed.

With the utmost patience, he’d coached me and encouraged me and then applauded me when I finally pedalled successfully down the street.

To this day, it is one of my favourite memories. Although, to this day, despite that one moment of glory, I remain unable to ride a bike.

“You still can’t ride a bike?” he repeats this disclosure back to me, his mouth forming a perturbed O shape.

I shrug. “Eh, it’s not an essential life skill.”

He shakes his head and tugs on my arm, pulling me to a small gelato cafe hidden down a tiny cobblestone-paved ally, where he orders me a strawberry ice cream in a waffle cone without asking.

The man must have a part of his brain dedicated to ‘Cherry’s favourite things.’

I don’t hate that idea.

“Thanks.”

We devour our ice creams as we head back to the hotel, and I sigh in relief when we catch sight of it.

“I should have brought you home sooner.” A look of concern forms between his brows as he runs a finger from my temple to my chin. “You look exhausted.”

Great. Terrific. Just what a girl wants to hear.

“I’m fine,” I tell him. More lies. “But a nap sounds good.”

He walks me to my room and waits as I dive under the covers.

“I have to leave in a couple of hours,” he says. “I tried to get out of it, but there’s a meeting in London HQ I have to attend.”

My heart sinks at the thought of him leaving and I chastise myself for being silly. The man has a very important job; he can’t stay here and play nursemaid.

“I’m leaving your pills and some water next to your bed,” he says, the very picture of a very cute nursemaid. “Promise you’ll call me if you need anything. This diva will make sure you’re looked after.”

I chuckle at this and pull the blanket up to my chin, blinking rapidly to keep my tears at bay. If I cry now, he will move heaven and earth to stay here with me.

“Are you going to be okay?” He looks torn and I muster up my most healthy smile. Flashing all my teeth.

“Yes, now go. I’ll be fine after a sleep.”

He doesn’t budge. “Promise you’ll call?”

I nod. He stares down at me for a long moment, then lets out a frustrated groan. “I have to go.”

“I know.”

He groans again, leaning down to brush his lips over my forehead. “Look after yourself, Cherie.”

The skin on my forehead tingles and I can only offer him a weak wave, my eyes glued on him as he walks away.

When the door clicks closed behind him, I screw my eyes shut.

My whole body feels sweaty and cold and tingling, and I know it has nothing to do with the mutant cold I’m currently fighting and everything to do with the man I want to spend all my time with.

I can feel something growing between the two of us and I desperately want to believe it’s real.

But with the bucketload of emotional baggage Troy left for me to carry, I don’t trust that Nicky does want to be with me, like that.

And even if he does, I most certainly don’t believe he will want to stay with me. Forever.

Getting close to this grown-up version of Nicky is better than any fantasy I could have ever imagined, and with my insecurities and self-doubt rushing to join this party, I’m just not sure what to do with all these intense feelings.

I can’t trust myself to believe any of this is real and I’m worried that, come the end of the season, neither my heart nor my body will ever be the same again.