Reserved the pitstop ser.., p.20
Reserved (The Pitstop Series Book 6), page 20
My sister’s eyes meet mine.
“I’ll go to your apartment to get her here, but please, don’t run from Nevaeh, big brother. She could be so good for you if you just let her, even if it’ll take some time for the both of you to get there. She won’t be forbidden from dating you forever,” Val says, pressing a swift kiss to my cheek and disappearing into the bathroom too.
I’m a fucking idiot for being here instead of with Nevaeh right now, aren’t I?
“I’ve never seen you so motivated to work out,” Gabriel teases as we make our way down the same trail I’ve taken a thousand times in my life.
“I’m leading the championship at the moment. I have to be on the top of my game,” I reply with a breathless laugh.
“Yeah and that goddamn Lincoln Nash is right behind us in the points, too,” Gabriel complains, and anger boils inside of me. Not because the rookie threatens me. I’m going to beat him, but I hate him. I hate him for being such a spoiled little asshole. For upsetting Nevaeh. For upsetting Nevaeh.
Wait, I listed that twice.
Whatever, it should be there twice. Once is not enough to describe how much it pisses me off that he’s hurt her feelings, over and over. That he thinks he has some weird claim on her. God, I hate him.
“So, you told her you’d wait for her, huh?” Gabriel says, throwing a smug smile my way.
“Fuck off.” I’m even more out of breath now than before and it’s definitely not because I’m thinking about Nevaeh.
“I think it’s nice. I’m proud of you for taking such a big step,” Gabriel goes on as we make our way down the slope leading toward one of Val’s favorite cafés.
“Don’t be proud of me. It feels like I’m going to spontaneously combust any second.” That makes him laugh.
“Whether you realize it or not, you’ve taken a million steps toward Nevaeh already. You may have taken a thousand backward, too, but I want you to acknowledge the forward ones. You hug her, protect her, seek out her affection, and let her give it to you. You took her to your place and she spent the night. You brought her home when you’ve never brought anyone to your grandfather’s house. You fight for her, even if you don’t see it.”
Gabriel stops in front of the café my sister loves, slipping his hand into his pocket to retrieve his wallet.
“Sometimes, it’s all about the little things,” Gabriel adds before walking inside and ordering my sister's favorite drink, clearly making his point.
Once we bought coffee for all of us and an iced chocolate drink I got for Nevaeh, my future brother-in-law and I make our way back home. The sun is burning my skin, making sweat trickle down my spine. My t-shirt sticks uncomfortably to my body, so I take it off and shove it into my pocket.
When we get back to the house, my sister’s voice comes from the pool area.
“Gabriel is…” Val trails off for a moment, and I almost hear the smile in her voice. “He’s one of the best Formula One drivers to ever walk this Earth, but he’s humble and sweet, too. Don’t let his angry game-face intimidate you. He’s a big softie on the inside.”
“You make me sound too nice, ma chérie.” We join them by the pool when my breathing catches in my throat at the sight of Nevaeh.
In a bikini.
In. A. Fucking. Bikini.
I might have to sit down or take a cold shower or both.
What I definitely need is to stop staring at her where she’s lying on one of the lounge chairs with her arms and legs stretched out to show off her curves. Her body is barely covered by the bikini, and she’s so, so gorgeous, I don’t even know what to do with myself. All the blood rushes south and my heart hammers as I study the swell of her breasts, her thick thighs, her generous hips, her wavy hair all over the place, and finally, the warm smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Her eyes trail over my bare chest in the same way I was ogling her, waking me up. No matter how distracted I am by the fact that I very much want to move between her legs and pull her bikini bottoms to the side to get a taste right now, I owe her an apology for leaving this morning.
“Hi,” she says, grinning up at me like seeing me brings her the most joy in the world.
“Hi, déesse,” I reply, handing her the drink I got her. She thanks me and smiles before remembering what I just said.
“What is it with all the French nicknames? I don’t even know what this one means,” she complains, forcing a low chuckle out of me.
“Trust me, the nickname I used just now expresses exactly what I thought when I saw you lying over there.” Because she is a goddess. At least in my eyes.
The goddess of heaven, perhaps, just like her name claimed her to be.
She sits up and crosses her arms under her chest, pouting playfully at me, but I’m hanging on to the thinnest of threads of my self-control because her breasts are almost spilling out of her little top. I’m not gentleman enough to keep my gaze averted entirely, and she knows it, which is probably why she laughs at me.
“Then again, démon would probably be more accurate,” I tease, entranced by the way she runs her tongue over her bottom lip. “Alright, that’s enough,” I say and take her drink away, placing it beside her lounge chair before lifting her into a standing position.
“What are you doing?” she asks with a laugh, but I don’t respond, merely guide her toward the pool.
Sensing what I’m about to do, she tries to fight me, but she’s laughing so hard, she has no more energy to be stronger than me. I throw her in with ease, watching as the water envelops her within seconds.
Val and Gabriel snicker.
Nevaeh resurfaces, sucking in a sharp breath.
“Adrian, I think I scraped my knee when you threw me in. It burns,” Nevaeh says, her face pulled into a pain-filled grimace, making a wave of panic crash through me.
“Fuck, mon ange, I’m so sorry,” I say, stepping toward the edge of the pool to help her out.
She lets me, but as soon as she’s out of the water, she turns us around and pushes me in instead. A laugh bursts out of me underwater, but I push up to reach the surface and get back to Nevaeh.
“You play dirty,” I say, wiping my face to get my hair off my forehead.
“You started it,” she reminds me as I push out of the pool and stand in front of her. She swallows hard once I’m barely a centimeter away, my chest brushing against hers.
“Yeah, and if it were up to me, you’d be the one finishing,” I say low enough to make sure only she hears me. Her gaze attaches to my lips, her chest brushing against mine with every fast breath of hers.
“I think you missed a word there,” she replies, so I flash her an innocent smile.
“Well, English isn’t my first language,” I explain, and she nods several times as if that explains it. “Then again, I grew up bilingual from the age of three.”
A nervous laugh bubbles out of her as I reach behind her for the towel she was lying on, wrapping it around her shoulders. Her cheeks are pink, but she’s still grinning at me, and it’s at this moment that I wonder if buying all of Griffin Sports to get rid of the no-dating-driver's rule is a little too extreme.
“I’m sorry I left this morning. It won’t happen again,” is what I apparently decide on instead of telling her I’m thinking about buying the company she works for so she can date me, which would be highly inappropriate for many reasons.
“Yeah, because I’m never sleeping in your bed again. It’s unprofessional,” she says, holding the towel closer to her body.
“We’ll see,” I reply with a wink before making my way inside and allowing myself to take a deep, full breath.
I’m about to go upstairs to shower when my sister’s voice fills my ears.
“Nevaeh?” she starts, sounding serious. “It’s great to prioritize your career, I did too, but you shouldn’t fight your feelings either. Life is about more than work.”
My sister is my favorite person for many reasons. This is one of them.
“Plus, secrets can be fun when they don’t harm anyone,” Val says, the sound of her and Nevaeh’s chuckle making me smile.
I’d be Nevaeh’s secret any day of the year.
Chapter 33
Nevaeh
Papa hands me some tape for the box I’m holding shut at the bottom. I release the flaps to find the beginning of the tape on the roll, groaning when I run my fingers over it five times without any luck. I give it back to Papa, who smiles at my incapability to do such a small task when a moment ago I was basically lifting half of my bed off the floor to look for a missing sock.
He instructs me to close the box again so he can fasten it for me. An unspoken question lingers on his features the entire time.
No, you started without me? Aileen signs, running over to me and wrapping her arms around my neck. I hug her back, smelling the familiar vanilla scent emanating from her. I can’t believe you’re leaving me alone with that sister of yours, she playfully complains, and I let out a short laugh as sadness creeps into my chest while she pulls me into another hug.
Leaving my family is the only bad thing about this move.
You’re always welcome to visit me when she gets on your nerves, I offer after stepping out of the hug to look at her. Her brown eyes filled with tears. Guilt consumes me in return. This is the most selfish thing I’ve ever done, but I hope they will forgive me for it.
How many times can I come to visit? she asks, and I chuckle. She spins around to look at my father, her black, curly hair almost hitting my face. Rob, you promised I could turn this room into a Nevaeh shrine, and I need you to keep your word, Aileen signs, and I almost choke on my own breath.
“Oh my God, what?” I ask, but my sister’s girlfriend waves my words away with her hand. She’s waiting for a response from Papa.
“Of course, I’m keeping my word. I’ll even help you build it,” he replies, moving his hands to form the words, and I grin.
You’re both so weird, is all I say before concentrating on packing my clothes and jewelry into a box.
Aileen neatly folds my things before placing them in my suitcase. I will be flying to Monaco tomorrow morning to drop off my things, then catch another plane to Australia in the evening. Luckily, Adrian and I both have a layover in Frankfurt, which means we will be traveling together from there on.
“Oh no, did I miss the fun part?” Nova asks once we’re all done.
She drops onto my bed, grabbing Aileen’s hand as she falls. My sister has never been one for physical touch to display affection, but it’s different with Aileen, and it makes me smile every time. Nova is so in love with her girlfriend, it’s the cutest thing in the world.
“Are you not taking your paintings?” Nova asks. I look at the art that had me in tears a few months ago.
“No, I won’t have space on the walls, and I don’t want to go through the trouble of sending a painting. It would be too expensive,” I explain, a pain shooting through my heart as I do.
Papa puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes to reassure me everything will be fine. The question from earlier is still on his face, and I finally cave.
“You’re going to get more gray hairs holding back what you want to ask me,” I say with a smile. “Not that it would be obvious, but—” Papa cuts off my teasing by tickling my sides. I jump out of his reach after letting out a horrendous squeal.
“You should show me more respect,” he says and signs with a glare I don’t buy.
You’re right. After all, you always taught me to respect my elderly, I sign back and run around the bed to get out of his reach. Nova and Aileen are crying from laughter, and I join them while my father smiles.
“It’s a good thing you’re moving out, Nevaeh. You’re too mean,” he complains but ends up grinning as he looks down at my boxes in front of him. It fades quickly as a serious expression causes his features to drop. “Your mother isn’t really at the nail salon,” he starts, and I feel my heart sink. Mama told me she couldn't help me pack because she had an appointment. “She’s at Elena’s,” Papa says, making me sigh.
“Avoiding me,” I add, and he nods. “Why are you telling me that?” I ask, unable to come up with a good enough reason why he couldn’t just leave me in the unknown. It was painful enough before, I didn’t need to know this.
“Because I need you to do something for me, and you’re not going to like it.” I raise a brow. “You two need to have dinner by yourselves tonight.”
He’s right, I don’t want to do this. Mama is only going to tell me how disappointed she is, and I’ll have to convince her what a great choice I’m making.
Since she’s even more stubborn than I am, that’s an impossible task.
“Fine, but you owe me a big bowl of gummy bears,” I reply and lift my hair up to tie it into a ponytail.
Deal, he signs, and I look at Nova and Aileen, who are already staring at me. I widen my eyes and then roll them, making them laugh. I wish they could come to dinner, too, but Papa’s right. I have to be the one to talk to Mama without any distractions or influences from other people.
Mama hasn’t said a word to me since we sat down at the dinner table. I’ve tried making conversation multiple times, but she hasn’t responded once with anything other than an “mhmm.”
“Alright, Mama, I know this is incredibly hard for you, but can you put yourself in my shoes for one minute and see how difficult it is for me? After my injury, I was lost, and now that I’m finally doing well and starting to be happy, my own mother is solely thinking about herself. Why can’t you see that this is the right thing for me to do?” I ask while she watches my mouth move with every word.
“I think you’re being selfish,” she mumbles, picking at her broccoli and avoiding my furious gaze.
“And I think you’re being selfish. So, where does that leave us?” Her blue eyes lift back up to my face before she makes my blood boil with her next question.
“It leaves us with this question: are you moving to Monaco because of Adrian Romana?”
I’m going to lose my mind before this dinner is even over. Right now, I’d actually love nothing more than to be with him, but I won’t tell her that.
It’ll only convince her that she’s right.
“Adrian didn’t even come to mind when my bosses offered me the job in Monaco. My life doesn’t revolve around men, Mama, even if it may include them.”
She scoffs at my response.
“Please, you’ve let them control your actions and decisions for years.” This makes me sigh, and not a surface-level sigh either, but a deep one that has been brewing since I first told her about my move.
“How? How have I done that?” My curiosity gets the better of me, and, for now, I let it. I’d like to hear whatever story she has come up with in her head.
“You started pursuing tennis because your father told you you’d make it far. You allowed Lincoln to control your emotions for years and only recently, it made you disrespectful toward guests in this house, young lady. Now, that Adrian guy has you moving to Monaco, doing free-lance type of work when you should be working in a team, and a lot more you probably don’t tell me about.”
Wow, that’s a lot of imaginary facts to take in. I swallow down the angry words lingering on my tongue.
I neatly place the cutlery next to my plate, taking another deep breath.
“I started pursuing tennis because I was in awe of the strength the women showed in their battles for greatness. I didn’t let Lincoln control my emotions. It was pain and anger that did. Lastly, I am not, and listen closely here, moving to Monaco for Adrian Romana. He and I are friends, just like I’m friends with Valentina and Gabriel.” I push my chair back and stand up, my heart aching from her negativity.
Mama’s eyes flood with tears, but she still glares at me.
“You can lie to yourself all you want, but your selfishness will be your biggest mistake. When you realize that, when you want to come home begging for forgiveness because you messed up, don’t count on me being there. I’ve warned you, and you have decided to ignore me. You choose this path, and I’ll not wait around for you to come crawling back, which you will. Your father may baby you and hand-feed you as if you were still a child, but I won’t,” she says.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I ask, but my mother just shakes her head.
I take a deep breath to fight back my anxiety. There’s a reason I hate confrontation. That reason is standing right in front of me. My entire life, I’ve never been allowed to be upset, angry, my own person outside of this family. I’ve been told to be a good child who does everything she’s told because my father had an image to protect. Being in the spotlight of Formula One means he has a reputation he carefully crafted over the years. If one of his daughters were to do something stupid, like discredit herself as a journalist for falling for the most beautiful and seemingly perfect Formula One driver, it would reflect badly on him.
And it isn’t just this, it’s everything we did as kids. It’s throwing a tantrum in a grocery store. It’s not wanting to dress up in outfits that made me feel like I was dressed in layers of duct tape. It’s not finding a job for months after I’ve finished university.
My fear of failure isn’t something my mind invented as a fun way to mess with me. It was born out of familial expectations, taking away things I wanted and replacing them with things I was supposed to want.
My mother used to yell at me and send me to my room as a child when I didn’t know what to do with all of the feelings I had. For a long time, I thought parents were supposed to do that, but after going to therapy, I realized it wasn’t. Parents aren’t supposed to punish their children for having feelings they don’t agree with. They aren’t supposed to punish their children for not playing the role that they came up with in their own heads. They aren’t supposed to send you away when you’re telling them you’re upset because they hurt your feelings. But they did. Even with Lincoln, they dismissed my hurt and focused on how I wasn’t the perfect daughter who just got along with a family friend.
