Page 7

SEVEN

LUCAS

The plan was for me to text Charlotte once I returned with the food. I’m tidy by nature—it comes with the territory for a person who lives out of a suitcase for half the year—but I want to do a last-minute sweep of my room, put the toilet seat down, that kind of thing, before Charlotte comes over. That plan crumbles to dust, though, the moment I step off the elevator on the sixth floor, three bags of food in hand, and find her standing outside my suite, wearing a gray sweatsuit and holding a massive lilac-colored stainless-steel water bottle.

I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen her wear sweats, and I like that she feels comfortable enough to relax around me—in a bra, of course. What worries me is that she looks just as stunning in loungewear and gym shoes as she does in a dress and heels.

“Hey,” I call out, going for chill, despite how wound up the sight of her makes me.

She gives me a tiny wave, her lips tipping up on one side. “Hi. I felt bad about being late and wanted to make sure you didn’t have to wait on me again, so I sweet-talked the concierge into giving me your room number. ”

Ahh . It’s worrisome that the staff so easily gave out my information, especially because I’ve dealt with stalkerish fans before, but Charlotte has that kind of effect on people, so I suppose it doesn’t surprise me.

“It’s really not a big deal, Roo,” I reassure her as I tap my key card to the sensor on the door.

“No, it is,” she insists, shifting her weight from one foot to the other beside me. “A lot of people would’ve bailed, but you didn’t.”

“I knew you’d show eventually,” I say, holding the door open with one arm and motioning her to step inside. “And some things are worth the wait.”

As she passes me, I silently chide myself for that statement with a shake of my head. Then I follow her in. It’s a beautiful hotel, but then again, almost all of our accommodations during the season are five stars. I may only sleep and shower in my hotel room, but AlphaVite makes sure we’re treated like royalty. Eating in the fancy kitchen seems too formal, so I move the vase of welcome flowers off the coffee table in the living room and set the food down there.

I picked up a little bit of a lot, including sushi and sashimi, a few skewers of yakitori, a variety of soups and ramen, a couple of soba noodle dishes, and mushroom tempura. As we sit on the overstuffed oddly patterned couch, Charlotte slips off her hoodie. Beneath it, she’s wearing a black shirt printed with a collage of images featuring Shrek—yes, the green ogre who’s married to my childhood crush, Princess Fiona—with the phrase I’m Totally Swamped written in the center.

“What?” Brow creased and lips turned down, she crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m wearing a bra, Lucas. I told you I would.”

Head tossed back, I bark out a laugh. “No, it’s not that. I just never envisioned you wearing a Shrek shirt.”

“Oh.” She drops her arms to her sides and grins, her blue eyes dancing. “It’s great, isn’t it? I like to sleep in punny shirts. I have a whole collection of them. My friend got this one for me a few years ago.”

Opening up a container of egg drop soup, I hum. “I never knew that.”

“Duh. It’d be kind of weird for you to know what I wear to bed, wouldn’t it?” she jokes, opening up another to-go box.

Yup, I walked right into that one .

“I thrifted one today that says my favorite type of men is ramen .”

As we eat, Charlotte fills me in on her day in Osaka. She raves about the streets filled with trendy boutiques and quirky souvenir shops, the bustling market, and the neon-lit signs mixed in with the traditional architecture.

As she goes on, I’m hit with conflicting emotions. She’s so animated and entertaining, and that makes it hard not to feel the excitement that emanates from her. But there’s an underlying disquiet there, too, because I genuinely can’t remember the last time I said “fuck it” and did whatever I wanted for the day. No plan, no destination, no real purpose. Every aspect of my life is so strictly regimented, from workout sessions to sponsorship commitments to meetings with AlphaVite, that when I do have a second to myself, all I want to do is take a nap. It’s lame, but that’s what happens when a person hits thirty.

“Damn,” I mutter. “I think you’ve seen more of Japan in a day than I’ve seen in all the years I’ve been coming here.”

Head tilted, Charlotte swipes a salmon avocado roll from the container in front of me and drowns it in soy sauce. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’ve been racing competitively since I was a kid. I’m grateful for the opportunities it’s given me, and I’ve been all around the world, but truth be told, I rarely do much more than just race. ”

“And party,” she teases, her dimples making an appearance.

I grunt in response. She’s not wrong. I spent a large chunk of my twenties at fancy parties in foreign cities. I don’t regret the fun I had with my friends, but my priorities have shifted since then, thank fuck. That shit was exhausting.

“That, too,” I admit, lowering my attention to the yakitori in front of me. “I’m realizing I probably missed out on a lot.”

“You’re thirty-one, not geriatric.” She gives me a lopsided smile. “You’ve got time. And I’d argue that you’re in a better position than I am.”

“How’s that?”

“I’m traveling and exploring because I don’t know what else to do,” she says, her smile fading. “I’m lucky that I can afford to do it, of course, but it’s not as fulfilling as it seems. Not when I’m trying to figure out what to do with my life. But you’ve known that you wanted to drive professionally since you were how old? Five? Six?”

“Six,” I confirm. “I had a car-themed birthday party, and this kid, Robby Anderson—hate that prick, by the way—kept saying that Hot Wheels were lame in comparison to Formula 1 cars.”

“What a dick,” Charlotte mutters.

“Oh, he definitely was.” And still is . “Anyway, I made my mom take me to the library the next day so I could research Formula 1.”

“The library?” Charlotte asks, brows raised.

“I grew up in the ’90s, Roo. We didn’t have Google.” I chuckle. “My mom checked out a few books for me, and I became obsessed. I hid them so she couldn’t return them to the library, then ended up grounded for being irresponsible with other people’s property.” Shrugging, I hover my chopsticks over the take-out buffet in front of us. “But it was worth it. ”

Charlotte sips from her bottle of water and smiles. “I wanted to be a tooth when I was a kid.”

I smile before I process her statement, but when I do, I can’t help but scoff. “A tooth ?”

“Yep.”

“Like a tooth in someone’s mouth?”

“Unless there’s another type of tooth I’m unaware of,” she quips. “And don’t ask me why. I couldn’t tell you. When I was about eight or nine, my life goals changed, and I wanted to be one of those dogs that sniff out contraband at the airport. I don’t know whether that’s better or worse.”

Laughter bubbles out of me. Damn, this woman is hilarious . “Hey, no shame in being an imaginative child.”

“Moral of the story is you’re living your dream.” She absently wraps a curl around her finger. “I’m pretty jealous of that. I’m glad I’m not someone’s molar or incisor, but you know what I mean.”

If I’m living my dream, then why does my world feel so incomplete?

A knock on the door interrupts that thought. Frowning, I look at Charlotte, whose expression is just as perplexed.

“Maybe the concierge gave your room number out to someone else,” she suggests, a twinkle in her eye.

“If they did, this place is getting a horrible Yelp review,” I mutter as I stand.

When I open the door, I find another blue-eyed Australian, although this one doesn’t have dimples. Theo pushes past me—because he doesn’t do polite things like wait until he’s invited inside—but stops dead in his tracks when he catches sight of his sister. “What are you doing here, Lottie?”

“Hi, Theodore.” She gives him a small, ridiculously cute wave. “How was dinner?”

“What are you doing in Lucas’s hotel room?” he repeats, completely ignoring her question. There’s no malice in his tone, just genuine confusion .

“Seducing him,” Charlotte says with a straight face. “Obviously.”

We all know she’s fucking with him. Even so, Theo’s face turns a shade of red that I’m 99.9 percent sure is not healthy.

“No.” He slashes his hand through the air. “Absolutely not.”

“You can’t fight the facts, big bro.” She straightens, her shoulders pulled back and her chin high. “Why do you think we’re eating sushi? The omega-3 fatty acids in these salmon rolls help in the production of sex hormones and are linked to more intense orgasms.” Turning to me, she says, “I spend a lot of time on Google. Unlike your ancient arse, it’s been around since I was a kid.”

I press my lips together to hold back a laugh. “Noted.”

“Please never say the words orgasm or sex hormones in my presence again,” Theo begs. “Or Lucas’s.”

“Your girlfriend’s mum is a sex therapist who gifted you a cock ring.” Charlotte points her chopsticks at him, one brow arched. “I highly doubt me saying org?—”

“Lottie,” he practically growls, clenching his fists at his sides. “So help me God, if you don’t stop talking in the next two seconds, I’m going to curl into the fetal position and start screaming bloody murder.”

That threat has me cringing. If there’s one thing Theo does well, it’s drama.

With a deep breath in, then back out again, I say, “I don’t want my neighbors to file a noise complaint.”

Charlotte winks. “Unless it’s from a very loud orgas?—”

With his head tipped back, Theo lets out a battle cry worthy of a Norse Viking. Fucking hell . There’s no way the guests next door aren’t calling the front desk. Or security. I snatch a pillow off the couch and toss it at him.

“I think someone’s at the door,” Charlotte tells me, an amused glint in her eyes .

Turning away from the yodeling idiot, I eye the suite’s door and tilt my head, listening. Sure enough, I notice the knocking.

I can tell it’s Blake by the knock alone. It’s always the same: three short taps, a pause, and then an aggressive bang with the heel of his palm.

Theo pulls his shoulders back and grins. “Blakey Blake is here.”

Eyes closed, I massage my temples. “You do know you can’t invite people to my hotel suite, right? That’s not how hospitality works.”

Ignoring me, he throws the door open, welcoming Blake in like this is his room instead of mine. “’Ello, Blake. You’re just in time.”

“In time for what?” Blake asks, taking in the details of the room. “Oh. Hi, Charlotte. What are you doing here?”

From the couch, she shrugs. “Trying to seduce Lucas with sushi.”

His eyes widen for an instant, but then he merely shrugs like this is nothing out of the ordinary. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Theo spits out. “You’re okay with that?”

“Calm down, she’s kidding.” I shoot Charlotte a chastising look.

She grins back at me like the cat that got the cream. Sure, it’s funny to see Theo riled up, but she’s not the one he’ll beat the shit out of.

“I don’t really know how seduction via sushi works, mate,” Blake says. “Can we focus on the nine-nine-nine text you sent me? What’s the emergency?”

“Lucas,” Theo replies. “He’s upset.”

My jaw drops, and I puff out a deep breath. “If I’m upset, it’s only because you’re giving me a headache with your yelling.”

Theo points his finger at me. “See? He’s only feisty when he’s upset. ”

Charlotte giggles, and Blake curses under his breath. I stay quiet. I’m honestly not sure how to approach this situation since I don’t know what in the actual fuck is going on.

“Okay, so it’s a Theo emergency, not a real emergency,” Blake notes, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

“My emergencies are real emergencies,” Theo counters, crossing his arms over his chest. “And Lucas being upset over his ex is an emergency. Unless you want a repeat of?—”

“Theo,” I bite out. The last thing I want is to have this conversation in front of Charlotte. I’m not exactly proud of how I handled the situation. I’m used to being the peacemaker, not the shit-starter, and boy oh boy, did I start a lot of shit when Jesse and Kylie started dating. I couldn’t take my anger out on him since he was thousands of miles away, so I took it out on anyone and everyone in my proximity. The only positive is that I found boxing, which is now my favorite way to train.

“Grayson called me,” Theo says. “Told me about the breakup and said you reacted poorly.”

My stomach twists into a painful knot. I’m going to kill my brother . I’ve been racing against Theo and Blake since I was a kid, so they’ve known my family for years, and Theo has a bit of a case of hero worship for my oldest brother. The two of them text regularly, sometimes about rugby, and other times Theo asks Grayson random legal questions like “if my suitcase is identical to someone else’s, and I accidentally take theirs, is it considered stealing?” I don’t mind their friendship except when they talk about me as if I’m not an adult capable of communicating on my own behalf.

“Ah. I think this is my cue to head out,” Charlotte says with a grimace. “Let you fellas have a boys’ night.”

“You don’t have to leave, Roo. They?—”

“It’s okay.” Giving me a small smile, she stands. “I’m getting tired, anyway.” She nods at the canvas bag hanging from Theo’s shoulder. “And Theo has his video game purse on.”

I internally groan. I don’t always mind playing video games with him, but he’s a sore loser and a cocky winner, and I’m not in the mood for his antics.

“Satchel,” he corrects her, his brows pulled down and his expression stern.

She tilts her head, an innocent gleam in her eyes. “That’s what I said.”

He harrumphs . “Whatever. I’ll come check on you later, yeah?”

Charlotte opens her mouth like she wants to argue but sighs instead. “All right. Good night. Thanks again for dinner, Lucas.”

The moment she leaves the suite, Blake spreads out on the couch. “Why are you checking on her later?”

Theo’s already taking his Xbox out of his “satchel” so he can hook it up to the TV, but at the question, he stops. “Her blood sugar’s high.”

“What?” I bark, my stomach sinking. “How do you know?”

“When her levels are high, she gets super thirsty,” he says, turning back to the task at hand. “She chugged about half a bottle of water in the few minutes since I got here.”

Teeth gritted, I chastise myself. Fuck. I should have noticed. I didn’t even know that was a sign her blood sugar was high. Or is it a symptom? I encouraged her to eat more since I ordered so much. Was that why it’s too high? Did she not take the right amount of insulin?

“I didn’t know that,” I say, roughing a hand down my face. “Will you make me a list?”

“Of what?” Theo asks over his shoulder. “You already know what I want for my birthday.”

Blake sighs up at the ceiling. Theo regularly sends us an updated list of items he wants for his birthday and/or holidays— and yes, that includes Valentine’s Day because it’s “bromantic.”

“No,” I huff. “A list of signs that Charlotte’s glucose levels are dropping or rising.”

Turning to face me, Theo shakes his head. “It’s a nice idea, but she won’t like it. You know how, if a woman is cranky or moody, it’s offensive to ask her if she’s on her period? Watching for her symptoms is like that. You’ll think she’s tired because her blood sugar is low, when, in reality, she slept like shit or had an early morning wake-up call.”

“That… makes a lot of sense,” Blake says, taking the words right out of my mouth.

“I guess, but I’d still like to know.” While I respect and understand his point, I still don’t like being in the dark about something as important as her health.

Blake gives me a funny look, but rather than questioning me, he changes the subject, going with one far less enjoyable. “Were you going to mention Jesse and Kylie or simply keep it in the vault?”

I collapse into a plush armchair, the force of the move knocking the wind from me. “It’s not a big deal.”

He sits up and cocks a brow. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Which doesn’t really matter since you know, regardless.” I turn my attention to Theo. “It wasn’t Grayson’s place to tell you.”

“I don’t think he meant to.” Theo frowns. “I called him because I wanted to chat about the Wallabies game, but he thought I was reaching out about that.”

“He doesn’t know that my issue with Jesse has anything to do with Kylie.”

“Your brother’s smart.” Blake rolls his eyes. “If you think he hasn’t figured it out by now, you’re seriously underestimating him. ”

I puff out a slow breath. Dammit. He’s right. He’s probably pieced enough clues together to have a pretty good idea. Fuck his Harvard law degree .

“Can we not do this tonight? I appreciate you guys checking on me, but this is the last thing I want on my mind during a race weekend.”

Blake gives me a slow nod. “Fair enough.”

“Fine, let’s talk about my sister instead,” Theo says.

Well, fuck. Maybe Jesse was the safer topic .

“I should have brought this up earlier, but don’t feel obligated to do dinner and shit just because we’re related.”

I blink at him, a little stunned. That was the last thing I expected Theo to say. I very rarely know what’s going to come out of his mouth, but this time? I’m at a loss for words. If anything, I feel obligated to not spend time with Charlotte simply because she’s related to Theo.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he continues, oblivious to my confusion. “I think it’s cool that you guys get along and all, but I don’t want her to be a distraction for you. She can be a lot sometimes, so don’t feel like you have to spend time with her simply because she’s my sister.”

“It’s not a problem, man.” I sit forward and rest my forearms on the armrests of the chair. “I like Charlotte.” And there won’t be a problem as long as he doesn’t know how much I like her .

“Me, too,” Blake says with a smirk. “She’s my favorite Walker, actually.”

“If that changes, just give me a heads-up,” Theo responds, ignoring Blake’s jab. “Do you want to play Madden or Call of Duty? And if you don’t put your all into playing, I’m going to be pissed, since I’m missing phone sex with my girlfriend to hang out with you.”

And just like that, the mood shifts into one of brotherly banter and bullshit.