Page 7

Cherry

“I can’t believe this is happening!”

Tanya’s face glows with excitement as she stares back at me from the screen on my iPhone. It’s been three seconds since I sent her a message, updating her on my new roommate status, and she’s wasted no time calling me.

I shouldn’t be surprised. She has previously declared she will be living vicariously through me for the next year.

“Shh,” I whisper, my gaze darting to my closed bedroom door.

“Is he nearby?” she squeals, her voice going up a decibel.

I shake my head. “I have no idea.”

After dropping the bomb that we’d be sharing a suite, which is larger than my apartment back home, Nicky had left, saying he was going to the gym.

I’d watched the door close behind him in a daze, pinching myself to ensure I was awake, before exploring the luxurious two-bedroom, two-bathroom suite I’d be calling home for the next week.

We’d be calling home .

“After I unpacked, I kinda crashed,” I tell her. “So, I have no clue if he’s back from training.”

“This is unbelievable.” Her pretty face is pinched with envy. “You go from heartbroken after Troy to living with the sexiest man alive.”

Ah, Tanya and her love of fantasy storytelling.

“Sixth sexiest sportsman alive,” I correct her, for no reason I can think of. Apart from the fact that I need to at least pretend to not be as attracted to him as I am.

She snorts. “Whatever. I’ve seen that man in the flesh and he is dee-lish-ish!”

I giggle along with her. Tanya has met Nicky only a handful of times since she came into my life after he’d already moved to Europe to join Formula 3.

The most recent occasion was when he surprised me at my twenty-first birthday party.

I’d been dressed up and as glamorous as I’d ever been, in a pale pink dress and my highest-ever heels.

That night, my sights had been set on Cameron Powel, the cutest boy in my marketing class.

And then Nicky had made a surprise appearance and all the burgeoning feelings I’d had for Cameron had faded into nothingness.

The racing superstar had only stayed for thirty minutes, keeping to the outskirts, hanging with Matt and Nancy, but that was all it took to reignite my crush on him.

He’d gained a legion of admirers amongst my peers that night—starting with Tanya, who’d declared her undying love for him then and there.

Get in line, sister!

“So, what’s the plan?” she asks now, like we’re co-conspirators in a scheme to get Nicky to fall in love with me. A doomed premise from the get-go.

I place my ear against my bedroom door. “My plan is to stay out of his way. I’ve caused enough trouble as it is. ”

She snorts again. “Hardly trouble. He sent someone to the airport to get you and he’s sharing his enormous suite with you when he’ll never be there. I think you’re being too hard on yourself.”

It’s true. And it’s also something I’m guilty of doing these days. It’s because of my last relationship, where Troy made me feel less-than, like a nuisance. And I internalised it.

I know when it’s happening, but it doesn’t mean I know how to make it stop.

“Either way, I’m staying out of his way.”

Tanya pouts and I stop any further arguments with my fiercest frown.

“Fine,” she concedes. “I’ll leave it alone for now. But please don’t hide in your room all day. Just be normal.”

Ha! How does one be ‘normal’ when rooming with a superstar? If there’s a way to do this, I haven’t figured it out yet.

“I’ve got to go,” I tell her. “I’m in desperate need of a coffee.”

After taking a two-hour nap, my body clock is all messed up.

I know I need to resist spending the day in bed and catching up on all the sleep I missed sitting upright with clenched fists for the ten-hour flight here.

If I’m to keep up the pace of the F1 season, I’m going to need to toughen up and get my circadian rhythm in line as well.

“Go, get coffee. And enjoy your day off!”

We wave goodbye and I press my ear against my door and listen. There’s only silence on the other side and I think it’s safe to go in search of coffee.

“Cherry—”

I squeak, tripping over my feet as I confront the sight in front of me .

Nicky walks out of his room wearing grey sweatpants hanging low off his hips and no shirt. He’s rubbing a towel over his wet hair, and water droplets pepper his face, neck, and chest.

Did I mention he’s shirtless?

I swallow the pool of drool threatening to escape my mouth, my eyes following a droplet of water as it runs from his messy wet hair to his shoulder, before making its way down his perfectly formed pectoral muscle and over his two, four, six…eight? pack.

Gulp.

My breath shudders out and I scramble for composure. I’m sure it’s been a good three minutes since I left my room and caught sight of my brother’s best friend half-naked and I haven’t said a word. And neither has he.

Why’s he not talking?

Wrenching my gaze from the tantalising V just above the waistband of his pants, I force myself to look up into his face, stunned to see him staring at me. Kinda like I’d been staring at him.

“Um,” I start a sentence and then stop. His naked chest and stomach have robbed me of all my words.

“Sorry!” His eyes fly from where they’d been glued to the sliver of skin showing between the bottom of my cotton pyjama singlet and the top of the matching shorties. In my lust-filled haze, I’ve forgotten that I’m showing almost as much skin as he is.

“No, I’m sorry!” I duck behind the couch to hide my body from him and then realise it’s one of those trendy low-back couches, and it is covering nothing. “I didn’t know you were back.”

He pulls his lips between his teeth and tips his head back, so he’s now looking at the ceiling instead of at me. This is so awkward; I want to curl into a ball and cry .

“I just got back,” he explains, unnecessarily, given I can see him in front of me. So much of him, in his bronzed skin glory. “I’m going to get dressed.”

Stunned, I watch him retreat to his room and decide to do the same. We may have grown up together, but we are not family. I need to ensure I’m fully clothed around him at all times in the future.

He, on the other hand, is welcome to walk around shirtless whenever it takes his fancy.

With one of my trusty Melbourne Uni sweatshirts now covering me from neck to knee, I go back to my hunt for coffee. It’s been almost twenty-four hours since my last caffeine hit and I have the shakes to show for it.

“Did you sleep?”

I turn around. Nicky has put on a soft white t-shirt, covering all that delicious skin, and still looks good enough to eat.

There’s something so sexy about a man in a tight t-shirt and sweatpants that doesn’t get enough credit.

They could put him on the cover of a magazine looking just as he does now, and he’d win any ‘sexiest man alive’ competition going.

Come to think of it, who voted him into the lowly sixth position? And why were they so blind?

“Um?” What did he ask me? I fiddle with the coffee pod machine and gather my thoughts. If this year with him is going to work, I’m going to need to get my wits together when I’m with him. Starting by finding words . “Yes!”

He startles, and I mentally slap myself in the face. In my excitement at finding an answer to his innocuous question, I’d all but shouted it at him.

“Good.” His lips quirk up and I know he’s trying not to laugh at me .

Play it cool, Cherry. Don’t let him see you sweat.

“Do you want one?” I motion to the coffee machine in front of me and he shakes his head, brushing past me to get to the fridge.

“I don’t drink coffee,” he says, grabbing a bottle of water and walking to the couch. Squashing down the shudder I’d felt from having him just brush past me, I stare at him, my jaw hanging open.

“You don’t drink coffee?” I’m flummoxed at the thought of it.

He smirks. “Do I have to hand back my citizenship?”

I nod solemnly. “Yes. No true Melbournian would ever admit to not drinking coffee.” I whisper the last part, playfully looking around like someone may hear me and punish us both for this terrible sin.

His laugh is rich and I wish I could bottle it up. “It makes me jittery,” he admits, his eyes following me as I walk around the kitchen. It’s disconcerting, to say the least.

“A fate worse than death.” I carry my coffee and sit across from him, pulling my knees up and under my sweatshirt, balancing my cup on top of them.

“How was your flight here?”

I look at him lounging on the couch, his air-dried hair curling on top of his head, day-old stubble coating his jawline. He looks like the man I grew up with. Grew up adoring.

“Um, okay?”

He tilts his head, examining me. “Just okay?”

I hum under my breath, wondering how much to share. Knowing him as well as I do, if I admit to my fear of flying, he’ll rush off to solve it for me. Or worse, he’ll send me home and cancel the rest of my contract given my time with the team includes many, many flights in my future.

“I couldn’t get comfortable. I found it difficult to fall asleep with a stranger sitting next to me,” I tell him, a half-lie. It is difficult to get comfortable while picturing yourself plummeting to your death on a continuous loop.

“Next time, you’ll be with me.”

Oh boy, this man has no idea how his off-handed comments affect my poor little heart.

“Great.”

We sit in silence, Nicky staring at me, my eyes darting between him and any other surface in the room. What is he looking at? Do I have something on my face?

“So…” I smooth my hair back, wondering if it had turned into a bird’s nest while I was sleeping.

“You must be in foodie heaven here. All the Chinese food you can eat. Or I guess it’s just called food here.

” I clamp my mouth shut to stem more ridiculous words from falling out. What did I just say to him?

His brown eyes brighten as he stares at me, a smile finally breaking free. “You’re right, it is just called food here.”

I throw a cushion at him, bathing in his rich laughter as he ducks out of its path. “I just mean, I remember it being your favourite.”

Back home, we’d only had one Chinese restaurant in town growing up. Matt and Nicky had been obsessed with it, and every Friday night they’d gorge themselves on fried rice and lemon chicken while I devoured all the fortune cookies they left to the side.

“It still is,” he says now. “And if I remember, you were a fan of the fortune cookies. You’d open them all until you found one you liked the best.”

I press my coffee cup to my cheek, hiding the blush that I just know is creeping up. He’s right. That’s what I’d done; I even have one I keep in my wallet. At the time it had resonated with me, so I kept it as my mantra:

A man cannot be comfortable without his own approval.

Or woman, in this case. Too bad I’d lost sight of this during my time with Troy.

“Anyway.” I shift in my seat, not liking where my thoughts were taking me. “What’s planned for today?”

He sighs, looking at his watch with a frown. “I have to meet with the team soon to go over race strategy. I’ll be out for most of the day and evening. Will you be alright here on your own?”

I bristle. “I’ll be fine. In fact, I’m going out.”

His eyes snap to mine. “Out?”

“Yes.” I wave towards the window and the big wide city of Shanghai just waiting to be explored. “Serena and I are going sightseeing.”

His dark brows furrow further. “Where?”

I put down my coffee cup and fish my phone out of the front pocket of my sweatshirt.

“Here.” I sit next to him and show him a picture of the Yu Garden on my screen.

It’s been voted the number one tourist attraction in Shanghai and I can’t wait to see it.

This is why I jumped at the opportunity to do this job after all, the chance to see the world.

And spend time with the man next to me, of course.

“Hmm, maybe you should take James?”

“Why?” I laugh. “I’m not you. I’m not famous. To the outside world, I’m just another ordinary face in the crowd.”

His mahogany eyes trace my face and I realise too late just how close we are. “Cherry.” He runs a finger softly down my cheek. “There is not one thing ordinary about this face.”

I forget how to breathe as my mind turns his words over. And then over again. Is he saying he likes my face ?

Before I can process it—him—any further, he leans back, springing to his feet and stepping away from me, his movements jerky, lacking his usual grace.

“Just promise me you’ll be careful?”

I nod dumbly, still stuck in the world where he likes my face.

“And call me if you get into any trouble. Or you need anything at all.”

I nod. Inhale, exhale. That’s how breathing is done, right?

“Wait!” I call after him. He stops at his bedroom door. “I don’t have your number.”

He turns and glares at me. Whoa. Smouldering Nicky is so hot.

“How do you not have my number?” he asks through gritted teeth, like he’s offended.

“Um, I have Sue’s number.”

This seems to annoy him even more. In one swift motion, he pulls his phone out of those delectable sweatpants and swipes across his screen with stabby fingers. “I can’t believe you don’t have my number?”

I scoff. “When have I ever needed to call you?”

My phone vibrates in my hand, and I glance down at it.

Text from Unknown Number.

“That’s me,” he says before turning to his room, and I can see the muscles in his back rippling under the soft material of his t-shirt. Yum. “Save it.”

I watch him until he disappears behind his closed door, finishing the rest of my now-lukewarm coffee in a gulp.

I’d just spent time with Nicky, and had an almost normal conversation, and I’m not a quivering, sweaty mess.

This is progress. So what if I’m noticing the way his bum looks in sweatpants, or how my skin tingles when his fingers brush mine?

It’s just my silly crush springing back to life.

And I can keep that under control; I’ve been doing it all my life.

Standing up on shaky legs, I do as he asks and save his number into my phone as I walk to my room.

It’s only when I get there that I realise he texted me , that he’s had my number saved in his phone all along.

Oh boy, does that make my stomach flip in a very real way.

And I question if, in fact, I’ll be able to keep this crush from blooming into something more.

Something that my heart won’t ever recover from.