It was as if she didn’t know who I was or recall the way I’d made her scream. On a clifftop. Against my bike. With a Portuguese sunset as our backdrop.
And there I was, bushy-eyed, that she was wearing my colours.
Zsófia froze, the earpiece dropping from her hand.
The media intern kept on talking behind her, pointing out different members of the team, but her attention was on one man.
Imre. Her father.
He’d been expecting it. I’d told him she was joining our new team, but he stood, lips parted as if he wanted to speak to her, his folded arms falling from the StormSprint polo he wore.
She was stiff as she turned, like she was about to walk out, but she stopped. Her shoulders were rigid, her fingers trembling — just barely.
I was already moving towards her.
They didn’t get on, but I wasn’t aware of what would cause this reaction.
It made me uneasy, ready to question Imre.
She looked down at me as I crouched to get her earpiece. “Thanks.”
I nodded and placed it in her hand, fighting the impulse to brush a stray strand of hair behind her pierced ears. I hadn’t noticed all the different jewellery climbing up the ears I’d grunted in.
“You okay?” I asked softly.
She nodded and stood straight. “Yes. I will be.”
That wasn’t the answer I wanted. I wanted the truth in whatever raw form Zsófia was willing to give me.
My brother stepped out from behind me. “Zsófia, it’s nice to meet you.” He took her hand even though her attention was back on her father, who still seemed stunned. “I’m Benedek, Zolt’s brother and manager.”
“Nice to…” she started in English, then shook her head, carrying on with an awkward smile. “It’s a pleasure,Benedek.”
I hated his touch on her.
We looked alike. He had the same thick brows as I, the same harsh jaw and quick retort. His skin tone was a shade or two lighter.
Maybe she’d find him more attractive.Less dangerous.
She pulled her hand back and said, “I need a minute.”
And she left. I went to follow, but Benedek pulled me back.“God, what do you think he did?”he laughed.“For her to hate him so much.”
I shrugged and went to go again, but he stood before me, frowning. “Don’t get involved in the family drama. We’ve paid enough for you to be here. Focus.”
“She’s upset,” I snapped. She looked far from the woman who threatened my sanity with a simple smirk, and I hated it — it didn’t matter what he’d done. It mattered that she hated him.
“Her sister works here. Let her mop up her tantrum tears. You’ve got to qualify. Pole position.”
Our bell rang, signalling it was my time to do just that.
But my mind was elsewhere as I lapped the track. It wasn’t hard lately.
Her expression replayed in my mind; not her free expression as she came, not the way her lips parted to form a perfect‘o.’Not the mischievous grin when she thought she had one-upped me.
The hurt in her wide eyes.
4
