Page 26

TWENTY-SIX

LUCAS

For all my planning for our time in Budapest, I didn’t foresee needing a bathing suit. Sure, there’s the Danube River, but Charlotte doesn’t like going into water where she can’t see her toes. I could’ve researched the place when my girlfriend suggested we spend the day at the Széchenyi Bath, but she was excited to be involved in planning something , so I let her have it.

I hate the phrase “dumb blond,” but assuming that the Széchenyi Bath in Budapest is anything like the Roman baths in Bath, England—tourists look but don’t go in because of brain-eating amoebas—was really fucking dumb. I assumed we’d be walking around, not wading in the water. Of course, I don’t realize my mistake until I’m surrounded by tourists and locals alike wearing swimsuits and holding towels as they make their way to the ticket line.

Charlotte’s standing at the entrance wearing a flowing sundress and a mega-watt smile that brings her dimples to life. If gray sweatpants are girl porn, then sundresses are boy porn. They’re feminine, and they’re the perfect combination of cute, hot, and classy. And if Charlotte wears a dress with pockets? The level of her excitement rivals that of a person who’s just won the lottery.

“Hey, baby.” I greet her with a smile. As much as I’m dreading telling Theo about us after the race next week, I will admit I’m excited that I’ll finally be able to kiss my girlfriend in public.

“Hi,” she says with an enthusiastic wave. “Tell me about your meeting. I’ve been impatiently waiting, and Mitchell’s ignoring my texts, which is rather rude.”

I chuckle. While Charlotte shopped this morning, I spent two hours in a virtual team meeting, discussing sponsorship opportunities. Mitchell already forwarded me screenshots of Charlotte’s barrage of messages. I wanted to tell her how it went in person, but she clearly couldn’t wait that long. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do with her stream-of-consciousness-style messages.

Charlotte Walker

How did it go?

Is Lucas happy? Did you make him upset?

If you did, I’ll put glitter in your briefcase, and you’ll be finding pieces of it for years to come.

Did Gucci invite him to Fashion Week again? And if so, can you please add that he needs a plus-one to his contract?

Is there even a contract if it’s just an invite? Please confirm.

You know what? I’d rather Chanel invite him. Gucci said that a female would never run their company, and that’s bullshit, so fuck them, ya know?

It’s really rude to ignore my texts, FYI.

Bad karma, too .

“I’ll tell you all about it.” I tug on a curl. “But I need to figure out what to do about getting a bathing suit first. And some sandals?—”

“I bought one for you this morning, just in case you forgot,” she says with a proud smile. “Now tell me about the meeting, and don’t hold back on the details. Spill the British colonial tea into the Boston harbor.”

Yes, Charlotte has upgraded the Gen Z phrase .

“Celestial Chronos wants to be my sponsor, and they want me to be their brand ambassador,” I share, a grin splitting my face.

Her face lights up, and she squeals, throwing her arms around my neck. “That’s incredible, babe. I’m so proud of you. That’s a huge opportunity.”

Cheeks warming, I rub at the back of my neck. “Yeah. According to Mitchell, they see a lot of potential in me and think I’m a perfect addition to their family.”

“Wait,” she says, covering her cheeks with her hands. “Isn’t the watch you restored with your grandpa a Celestial Chronos?”

Now the heat has crept all the way to the tips of my ears. “Mm-hmm. You remember that?”

“Duh.” She claps and bounces in place. “Oh my God, you should do a campaign that includes your grandpa, your dad, and your brothers. Focus on the family legacy of their products. Call it Timeless Style for Every Generation or something like that. That’d be so cute.”

I blink, feeling an overwhelming sense of reverence for this woman. “That’s an amazing idea.”

She flicks her hair over her shoulder. “I’m the queen of good ideas.”

“You tried convincing me to go to an illegal gambling den with you in China,” I remind her .

“Whatever,” she says, rolling her eyes, the blue glinting in the sun. “My idea for Celestial Chronos is genius, though.”

“I’ll text Mitchell about it when we’re inside.”

Twining my fingers with hers and hoping no one recognizes me, I guide her to the skip-the-line entrance to start our afternoon. Széchenyi Bath is a majestic sight with its grand neobaroque architecture standing proudly against the clear blue sky. The inside is a maze filled with rooms containing pools that range from freezing to boiling.

Charlotte ends up leading me to the exclusive spa located on the building’s rooftop, where we’re shown to a private cabin to change. I’m so distracted by the simple red bikini she’s rocking under her dress to notice that the “swimsuit” she hands me to change into is in no way, shape, or form that .

“What is this?” I ask her, holding the small bit of material up in front of me.

“A candle,” she deadpans before rolling her eyes. “Obviously, it’s a swimsuit, babe.”

Not even the pet name can clear away the disdain winding through me as I let the offensive bit of material dangle from the tip of my finger. I was expecting the swim trunks to be short, given the European preference, but these? They’re one step up from a Speedo.

“You’re telling me that in all the shops you went in, this was the only feasible option?” I press, not buying it for one second.

“Well, it’s the only feasible option now , since we’re already here,” she argues, a devious glint in her eye. There were definitely other options available, but she chose the pair that’ll hug my ass like a glove and show the full outline of my dick. Cursing under my breath, I wrestle the tight elastic material of my swimsuit over my ass and thighs, all the while ignoring the way Charlotte fans herself as she watches me.

“Can I tell you how cute your arse looks in those?” she asks, leaning to one side and blatantly ogling my butt. “Because it looks really?—”

“No,” I huff, wrapping myself in a fluffy robe I find hanging on a hook behind the door.

“What about?—”

“No,” I repeat, giving her a warning look. “Keep it up, and I’ll spank you until your ass is so red it looks sunburned.”

“Maybe that’s my plan,” she says. And with that, she tosses me a wink and sashays out of the changing room with effortless grace.

I lock up quickly, then trail behind her, an invisible thread tugging me along.

We find two empty lounge chairs and spend the next few hours snacking on fruit bowls delivered by the spa staff, checking out the saunas and pools, and relaxing in the hammocks. Well, Charlotte’s relaxed. Despite the lush canopy of gleaming leaves and her warm body tucked against mine in the cocooned confines of the hammock, I can’t turn my brain off.

“Babe,” I say, lightly tapping her ass to get her attention.

“Hmm?” she asks, her voice lazy from the heat.“What is it?”

A soft smile passes my lips. “Can you open your eyes?”

“Why?” she asks, scrunching her nose. “They’re not required for listening.”

“Because I like looking at you,” I admit without shame. “And I want your full attention.”

“I’m purposely trying to not look at you.” With a laugh, she tilts her head from where it’s resting on my chest so she can see me. “Your thigh tat is extremely sexy. It’s been teasing me all day, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

I chuckle while willing my dick to remain calm. In this swimsuit, the last thing I need is a hard-on. There’s no doubting that my girlfriend loves my tattoos. Her favorite nighttime activity is tracing them with her tongue until I lose all patience and fuck her until neither of us can think straight.

“Can I ask you something?”

She lifts a brow. “I ask you an average of seventy questions a day, so yes, you can absolutely ask me something, babe.”

As always, her humor instantly makes me feel lighter. “I love when you ask me questions. It’s like I’m getting an insider’s view of how your brain works.”

I don’t know anyone else who would be chugging water and suddenly ask: wait, do fish get thirsty? Or do they just absorb water? Or watch an R-rated movie and wonder : are minors who act in R-rated films allowed to watch their own movies?

“That’s the most weirdly romantic thing someone’s ever said to me.” She laughs, her breath fanning against my chest. “Ask away.”

Puffing out a deep breath and hoping she doesn’t get offended by the question, I bite the bullet. “Do you ever feel overshadowed by Theo?”

“All the time,” she replies without an ounce of hesitation.

“But you’re you,” I sputter, thrown off by her answer. “Sorry, I don’t mean you can’t feel that way… I just… well, Theo doesn’t overshadow you. At least not in my eyes.”

“And that’s part of why I love you.” She cranes her neck to press a kiss to my cheek. “You’re one of the few people who see me as me , not an extension of Theo. Most assume that being the sibling of someone famous is all glamour and perks, but they don’t understand the pressure and the constant comparisons. It feels as though every one of my achievements is measured against his success, no matter how incomparable they are.”

Surprise knocks me back. Her raw vulnerability is so damn refreshing while also a little heartbreaking. I’ve never really considered how my career could negatively impact my siblings or my parents because, for me, it’s been one good experience after another. Not only am I living out my dream, but I’ve been able to provide for my family financially in a way that I couldn’t have otherwise. I paid off my parents’ mortgage, loaned Grayson money so he could go to law school—and put all the money he repays me into a college fund for Madison—bought Jesse the best of the best computer equipment so he can code to his heart’s content, and funded the twins’ lavish lifestyle when they studied abroad.

If Charlotte, the most outgoing, adventurous, and confident person I know, feels outshined by her brother…

A wave of sadness crashes over me. Shit. “I think Jesse feels that way.”

With her lips pressed together and a small crease between her brows, she nods. “It’s possible. It doesn’t mean he’s not proud or happy for you. But maybe he feels like he’s in the background while you’re in the spotlight, no matter the situation.”

“Jesse’s insanely smart and a major success in his field,” I argue, a sense of defensiveness taking over. “He had competing offers from, like, four of the biggest tech companies in the country. Just because his path is different from mine doesn’t make it any less important.”

“Does he know you feel that way?” she asks, her voice as soft as her expression. “Because Theo’s never once told me that.”

This is what she meant when she said two of Theo’s closest relationships were changing. Because I may still be his best friend, but my loyalty belongs to Charlotte. And right now? I want to smack him upside the fucking head until he realizes that he’s unintentionally hurting his sister.

Taking a deep breath, I fill her in on what Jesse said during our fight. How I went after Kylie without considering his feelings, how our family’s plans and events tend to revolve around my availability. How my own selfish actions caused a bigger rift between us. How I was hypocritical for breaking bro code by going after her. Then I dive into how I don’t know what to do, because it’s clear he wants to mend things and maybe I’ve been holding on to unnecessary anger.

Charlotte blinks rapidly as she processes all the details. “Oh.”

I chuckle at her lame response. “Do you think I should talk to him?”

“I think it’s going to be a shitty conversation, but a necessary one,” she admits. “It’s probably been a long time coming, but this issue with Kylie brought things to the forefront.”

Sighing, I nod. “If he’d talked to me about how he was feeling rather than going behind my back, we could’ve avoided this entire rift.”

I’d probably still be a bit pissed, but if I’d known why and how he was feeling, I would’ve backed away and given him my blessing rather than a black eye.

“He probably kept it to himself for the same reason I didn’t tell Theo about FIT. For the same reason I want to wait to tell him about us,” Charlotte admits, nibbling on her lower lip. “I know how much sacrifice it takes to race—dealing with the public, the expectations, the critics, the pressure. My own shit never seemed as important, and the last thing I ever want is to be the reason his career suffers.”

With affection and gratefulness washing through me, I kiss her temple. “Let’s make a deal. If I talk to Jesse, you talk to Theo.”

“We’re talking to him next weekend,” she says, puffing out a nervous breath.

She knows damn well I mean about their own underlying issues and not about our relationship, but I don’t push her. It’s taken me this long to want to make things normal with Jesse, or at least a new normal, so I can’t expect her to suddenly want to have a heart-to-heart with Theo when, on the surface, they’re fine.

“Why don’t you invite your brothers to Monaco over summer break?” she suggests. “The only things on our agenda are sailing and sex, so it wouldn’t hurt to add some socialization to the mix.”

It’s a simple idea. One I probably should have thought of myself.

“You wouldn’t mind?” I ask, tugging her closer.

I can guarantee her answer will be an honest one. One of her best attributes is that she doesn’t bullshit or beat around the bush. I don’t think she could even if she wanted to. Her face is too expressive. If I want an answer, all I have to do is ask.

“Of course not,” she says, head tilted and eyeing me like I’ve just asked the most ridiculous question. “It’ll work out perfectly, really, since I’ve decided to turn your office into my showroom-slash-workspace. If you’re with your brothers, I can work on my designs in peace. Natalie sent me the room specs, so I ordered equipment to organize all my fabrics. She also found a sewing mannequin for me. It’ll make it easier to construct new pieces. That’s okay, right? I didn’t even think to ask you, which I now realize is so entirely rude of me. But you said what’s mine is yours, and I sort of took that and ran with it. You said that in reference to me eating half of your dinner the other night when I liked what you ordered more than what I did, but now I’m recognizing that sharing a steak is nowhere near renovating your office. I can have Nat return everything. It’s?—”

I shut her up with a kiss. When Charlotte’s on a roll, it’s the only way to slow her down. Not that it’s any sweat off my back, since kissing my girlfriend is my favorite hobby. I reassure her that it’s more than okay and shoot my brothers a quick text, inviting them to Monaco. Then, for the first time since arriving at the baths this morning, I allow myself to relax. And fuck, does it feel good.