Cute. ‘He manages.’
‘Do you wanna… go for dinner, sometime? You know, without the… field gear.’
It’s happening.
It’s HAPPENING.
My smile’s demure. ‘I’d like that.’
Bloody hell, I did it. I convinced the second most famous F1 driver in the world to ask me out. I’m not a model or professional athlete or PhD student, and I succeeded anyway.
Victory’s still fizzing through me as I exit the tunnel alone. I’m treating myself to a fat pain au chocolat for breakfast – or three, who cares? Screw my calorie tracker. Then I’m going to the pool. No, the sea.No, the sauna. Or swim and sauna? What a time to be alive.
I glance down at my phone and stop in the middle of the paddock. One message surfaces above the others, and it annoys me more than it has any right to:
You’re welcome, Julie.
Chapter 20
JULES
There’s a rap on the door as I’m putting the finishing touches to the meeting setup. Even his knock drives me mad. It’s a little tune I don’t recognise. I check my watch – he’s shockingly on time. There really is a first for everything. I open the suite door and he’s?—
‘Sweaty,’ I blurt out.
Tiago rakes his fingers through his hair. It’s damp and curling at the edges. ‘I ran here. Didn’t have time to decompress in the gym after interviews.’ He kicks off carbon-plated running shoes and walks in, looking around.
He’s not lying. His grainy blue top’s sticking to him, outlining his pecs and the top of a six pack. Maybe even an eight pack.
‘I thought you said I shouldn’t even think about your hotel room because it’s so far out of my realm,’ he says, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.
I don’t know why him mentioning my room would cause an odd flicker of heat to travel down my torso, but it does. Tanned biceps gleaming in the subdued lighting isn’t helping things.
‘Don’t read into it.’ My voice is strangely hoarse. I clear my throat and push through. ‘We don’t have time to go somewhereelse, and since this country’s the size of a pea, it’s swarming with press. Privacy’s crucial for strategy sessions.’
His amusedhmsound shoots straight to my centre. What’s wrong with me?! Yes, he’s objectively hot, and yes, I haven’t shagged anyone in a while, but it’sTiago Cabrera.
I motion to the small table and chairs I’ve arranged for our meeting. ‘Shall we?’
I should’ve known his attention would last for approximately four seconds. Something catches his eye across the room. ‘Hey, I know that mug.’
My blood runs cold. I don’t need to turn to know he’s pointing to theLuke’smug on the nightstand. ‘We don’t have much time, Tiago. Can we just?—’
‘That’s…’ He clicks his fingers, trying to remember. Jesus Christ. Please don’t please don’tplease don’t. ‘Dude, that’s fromGilmore Girls!’
Heat rushes up my neck. ‘How do you know that?’
‘Were you Logan, Dean, or Jess?’
My brain falters at this completely out of character admission. ‘What?’
‘They’re Rory’s boyf?—’
‘I know who they are. I can recite all seven seasons word for word.’
His eyes grow wide and I know instantly I shouldn’t have said that. ‘This isn’t like a childhood thing. You watch itnow.’
‘I—’
