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Had I just made out with Luca in front of all these people?In the moment, it didn’t seem so terrible, but now, I felt mortified at the thought. Luca looked down at me and smiled, grabbing my hands and pulling them up to his chest.
“Sorry, Lilah, just can’t help myself sometimes –as Georgia likes to say,it’s in my nature,” he grinned, pulling my hand to his lips and giving it a kiss.
“You two are too much!” Lilah exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “I cannot wait to see how these photos look.”Mark, still sitting next to the photographer, stood up and grinned, his notebook in his hands.
“You know, I came in, trying to see if the chemistry was there between the two of you – you seem like such an odd pairing, but after today, I can really see that it is. Good luck, you two. I’ll be sure to have several copies sent to your offices.”
And with that, the photo shoot was over.
ChapterFourteen
GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN
Luca
The photoshoot had gone much better than I expected. I could tell Georgia was nervous through most of it, so I did my best to help relieve that anxiety and stress. I couldn’t help myself when I whispered that little comment about Sunday into her ear. Watching her squirm like that, knowing only she could hear me, it riled some primal part of me. I knew she had enjoyed last Sunday evening. I had immensely enjoyed it, being able to get my mouth on her.
When we got back to my apartment after the photoshoot, Georgia muttered something about getting into the shower and getting ready for tonight. I was a little confused, not sure why she needed to get ready for a night in, but I nodded and said I would do the same. After I finished my shower, I slipped into my favorite set of sweatpants and a V-neck. I headed towards the kitchen, pulling out the ingredients to make none other than my famous mac and cheese.
Georgia might have joked to the journalist about my love for mac and cheese, but I meant what I said. Plus, I figured if she couldn’t love me, she was at least going to love my cooking. As soon as I started grating the cheese, I saw Georgia come out of her room, wearing a beautiful black dress. Her makeup was done, and she had heels on, clearly ready to take on the night.
Had she thought we were going to go out? Had I misread the situation?
I looked up and gave her a small smirk, “Well, I know my cooking is pretty good, Tesoro, but I think you might be a little too dressed up for mac and cheese. Although I am honored that you would dress up for my cooking, it is pretty good if I say so myself.”
The look on her face was priceless – a general mix of shock, and then relief, and then happiness. That made my heart swell, not that I could let her see that. I figured after the last two weeks, Georgia wouldn’t want to go out to eat. I knew I certainly didn’t want to go out after all of the commotion from the last two races. These last two weeks had been nothing but racing, partying, and putting on a dog and pony show for the sponsors. I was exhausted, and I knew Georgia had to be too.
“Are… are we not going out?” She asked, her voice a little too small for my liking. So she had expected that we would go out. I shook my head and went back to grating the cheese.
“Oh,” she said simply, heading back into her room. Not even a minute later, she came out, wearing a pair of black leggings under her dress.
“So, I, uh,” she began, shifting her eyes uncomfortably, “I sort of forgot a comfortable shirt. I only packed workout clothes and beach items. Do you, um, mind if I borrow one?”
“Of course,” I said, perhaps a little too excitedly.
Did I mind if one of the most beautiful girls in the paddock wore my shirt?
Is the Pope a catholic?
I felt like a high-school boy whose crush had just asked to borrow his letterman jacket. I ran into my room and opened my drawer, pulling out the deepest purple Hermes shirt I could find, and walked back into the living room, handing it to her. Her face pinched up as she observed the shirt – clearly, she wasn’t thrilled about wearing a Hermes shirt, but I didn’t care – the idea of seeing her in my shirt stirred something within me.
“Really?” she deadpanned, holding up the shirt in question. “This is the only shirt you could find.” I nodded innocently and winked at her, heading back towards the kitchen.
“I mean, if you don’t want to wear a shirt, I am definitely fine with that too,” I added cheekily, causing her to give out an exasperated sigh as she trotted back into my guest room to change. As she came out, I gave her a little wolf whistle, and she stuck her middle finger at me, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. It felt nice and relaxing to be in my home with her, especially with her wearing my shirt.
“Thanks for not making us go out,” she said finally.
“After the two weeks we’ve had, I figured neither of us actually wanted to go out to eat,” I responded, still grating the cheese. She nodded in appreciation, and I could see a look of relief spread across her face.
“Want to open a bottle of wine?” I asked, nodding my head towards the wine cabinet.
Georgia walked on over to the cabinet, looking through the bottles I had collected throughout the years. She selected a lovely Spanish Tempranillo from the cabinet and brought it over, opening the wine and pouring out two glasses. I nodded my thanks and took a sip from the glass she had handed me. A perfectly blended Spanish wine, one of my favorites from the Basque county.
“So, I’m finally going to get to eat this famous mac and cheese,” she said with a smirk as she eyed the cheese I was grating.
“And what an honor that is,” I responded proudly. She snorted at that, grabbing her glass of wine as she headed towards my open-plan living room, admiring the many photos that I had scattered across the walls. I had various family photos – photos of me karting, photos of friends, photos of my family. Georgia stopped by one of my dad and me next to a rally car. Post-retirement from Formula 1, my dad had taken up rally car, a scary, albeit exciting new world for him.
“I’ve always wanted to try Rally car,” she said suddenly, staring at the photo.
