‘I once did for Halloween. I’m sure Harper has pictures somewhere.’
‘Like you need your ego feeding with your millions of followers and international modelling campaigns. You have to know how gorgeous you are.’ You only have to scroll for five seconds through Johannes’s Insta comments to see thousands of people willing to tell him so.
‘It sounds better coming from you.’ His grin slips into something genuine and the way my stomach knots is ridiculous. It’s so good to see him smiling again after how pained he looked just a few months ago. I can’t help responding and I feel my cheeks flush with happiness.
‘Now, what do you fancy?’
‘I’m assumingyouisn’t the right answer?’ His tone is so smooth, like butter wouldn’t melt, as he looks me up and down. It’s like we both know that tonight contains an implicit acceptance that we’re no longer pretending to be just friends. It certainly feels like a date.
‘I meant from the menu.’ But it’s too late. My face is on fire and I have to fan my cheeks with the menu.
‘Mmm, of course you did.’ He grins. ‘I’m thinking of having the biggest bowl of pasta you can imagine. Coming to Italy every year is absolutely awful for my diet and my nutritionist hates me, but I can’t stop myself.’ I don’t think he has anything to worry about regarding his diet. I’ve seen him naked, plus I know all his physical stats for the car. His body is magnificent.
In the end, though, he opts for steak frites whilst I go for a pizza with a burrata in the middle, because that just sounds stupidly delicious right now and nobody has my physical stats recorded on some computer program in the office.
‘Busy day?’ he asks as I settle back into my chair, our ankles brushing under the small table for two. My instinct is to pull away, but he locks my foot in place between his and even this small touch has goosebumps running up my leg.
‘You know how it is, race-week fun. The days before the race are very data driven, but I love Monza. One of my favourite tracks to watch you drive.’
‘Is that so?’ He strokes a foot up the side of my leg. He’s not playing fair. We have a whole festival to get through this evening and now all I want is to drag him back to my car and finish what we started that night at his penthouse.
‘You’re really fishing for compliments tonight, aren’t you? You’re very needy.’
‘I don’t need to when you’re so quick to give them to me.’
I shake my head at his cocky tone, but I don’t miss the way his face lights up when he hears all the praise from me.
‘How was your photoshoot?’ I ask, I’ve already seen the helmet he’s wearing this weekend and it’s nuts. He loves a crazy helmet, but this is the brightest one I’ve seen so far. The fans are going to go wild for it.
‘Not bad at all. The interviews this morning were harder than the shoot. It was for the documentary, and they love to ask me about Kian and Harper and I’m bored of it. Like, I want to talk about my racing not their love lives.’
I bet the documentary crew are gutted those two got married in secret and without the camera crew there. I bet they’d pay good money for footage of the event. I hope they don’t get it, because I would hate for Johannes’s sad, grey face that day to be broadcast all over the world.
‘Their love story brought in a whole new audience to F1 and they want to capitalise on that. I’m not saying it’s right, but it’s good for the diversity and growth of the sport.’
‘Harper’s their man to talk to, then. Honestly, I didn’t even know the wedding was happening until like just before.’
‘That sounds chaotic and crazy stressful.’
‘I can’t imagine trying to plan a wedding in like a week while my home country race is taking place and also trying to keep it secret from the millions of people who adore them.’
‘From the pictures I’ve seen in the magazine spread, it looks like it was a gorgeous day.’ I don’t mention the album that Elijah showed us or how sad I thought Johannes looked. I want tonight to be perfect.
Something flickers across Johannes’s face. There’s a pinch between his brows and his eyes drop from where he was holding my gaze in conversation. ‘It was,’ he finally agrees, but doesn’t expand on it.
The food arrives and we settle into a steady stream of conversation about how it all tastes, his highlights of being inItaly over the years and who we’re most looking forward to seeing tonight.
Johannes gets the bill after I told him the tickets were on me and that I wouldn’t accept any payment for them. On the way out, I slip on my cardigan, glad I brought it as the air has turned a little chilly.
‘Hey, before we set off, I think we have to put these on.’ He grabs the hats from where I’ve tucked them under my arm, and positions his securely on his head, before popping mine on, too.
His fingers stroke down my jawline making a beeline for the string to tighten it under my chin. My breath hitches. He really is the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on.
ChapterTwenty-One
Johannes
The festival grounds are alive with the sounds of guitars and people screaming in delight as we dip between different tents to see a couple of our favourite artists before securing a spot at the main stage to see Lainey Wilson, one of the headliners.
