When my jaw begins to ache and my lips feel beyond chapped, only then do I pull away.
For a couple of beats, Kian just stares at me, his gaze soft as he pushes a couple of floppy curls off my forehead.
In a swift moment, it’s as though he shakes himself before springing out of bed. I should probably follow suit – busy day and all – but I’m not excited to leave this room, or this bed. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and try to get my brain in gear.
Kian lifts the blinds and full-on daylight floods the room.
‘Argh!’ I hiss as I shield my eyes like a vampire.
‘I think we may have become actual hermits over the last couple of days and we have a podcast to go record and some short-form videos to capture in the team lounge. And, uh, I was thinking?—’
‘Wouldn’t recommend doing that too hard. Your tiny brain might explode.’ I giggle. Fucking giggle! Like a teenage girl trying too hard with her first crush.
He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care as he pulls me into his chest, hands finding the sides of my stomach as he tickles me like a wild animal. My laughs turn to screams and I’m scrambling to get out of his grip when there’s a knock at our door.
We both shoot apart, even though it’s not like whoever it is can let themselves in. They haven’t caught us, but we know this can’t happen in the open.
‘Coming,’ I shout and I’m out of Kian’s bedroom like a bullet from a gun. I slide across the lock, finding Anna on the other side.
‘You’re both late! Where’s Kian? I’m surprised he’s not already in the team room.’ Because Kian’s always so damn punctual and I’m clearly corrupting him.
‘We were just about to leave.’ Anna scans my naked chest and boxer-clad ass and gives me her best don’t-bullshit-me smile.
‘I was just about to leave, I promise,’ Kian says, appearing behind me fully dressed, his minty breath floating past me as he barges his way out of the motorhome.
‘I never doubted you for a second,’ Anna chuckles. ‘You have two minutes to be dressed and out, Harper.’
Kian shrugs from behind her, holding back a snigger, and I’m sad that our blissful bubble of sex and pizza has been broken.
I’m sad we have to let the outside world in and for the next few days leading into the Italian Grand Prix we have to be Harper James and Kian Walker, teammates, Hendersohm’s top racing drivers. Notus.
The days go so fast, though. They whizz by in a blur of soundbites, photoshoots and management finally being happy with what we’re putting out for them. There’s no more speculation about the rift dividing the Hendersohm team. Anders’s face is constantly split in two because of how much good press we’ve been given. Even Jackson is easier to be around when he sits in on every team meeting and video session, now that I know he isn’t a threat with Kian.
It’s not just that, though. The pit is more energetic, too, now there isn’t as much animosity between the two of us. The technicians aren’t walking on eggshells around us when we’re practising in the simulator. Everyone’s laughing and joking with each other, including me and Kian.
Yet we still keep our distance. Kian doesn’t come within a two-foot radius of me, almost as if he can’t touch me without giving our secret away. I can’t think too deeply about why that might be, because if I do I know my brain will think it’s because he’s embarrassed or ashamed to be with me.
Nope.
Can’t think like that.
I think quickly back to my last therapy session, in which we spoke about the reasons why my parents left, and how it wasn’t aboutmeor anythingImight have done. They left because of whotheyare – or were – and their own issues. It’s not like I’ve never heard this before, but it’s hard to undo a lifetime of internalised trauma and the behaviour that results from it. I’m trying, though, and working through it with a therapist keeps it top of my mind. I try to apply that rationale to Kian right now.
I stew on it for a few days, and then, in a rare free moment before the qualifiers, we both find each other alone in the motorhome one day. Kian’s wearing just the base layer that goes under his suit and I’m in nothing but a Hendersohm team hoodie and my boxers.
‘Hey.’ I smile as he turns his head to find me pressed up behind him. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’
‘Blimey, you really are a horn-dog.’ My dick is nestled again his ass, pushing against the valley between his cheeks, and I pull him as tightly as possible against me.
‘What were you thinking about the other day?’ I ask. It’s taken me several attempts to voice this, and now that I find myself able to, I have to keep going.
‘Huh?’
‘When Anna basically shattered our door with persistent knocking.’
‘Oh.’ The hot and heavy mood I was trying to initiate disappears and he pulls away from my grip.
I brace myself for whatever’s coming.
