The pool I’d seen earlier sat proud in the centre of the stone terrace, and around it sat a couple of sunbeds and chairs. I took off my shoes and paddled through the shallow end of the pool and then stepped out to lean over the low stone wall at the edge of the terrace. I’d bought my little tourist apartment because Andalucia was my happy place, but here, out in the country, I felt really content. The wind was warm and dry, and it tickled at my face. With the need to feel the sun on my skin, I pulled off my t-shirt and dropped it to the floor beside me, and let the feeling of warmth diffuse through me. I knew I’d be spending as much of the week as I could outdoors.
“Here.” Sebastian’s voice made me jump, I’d been so lost in my own thoughts. He was holding out a glass of pale liquid. “Ginger beer.”
“Thanks.” I took the drink from him and had a sip. “This place really is beautiful,” I said.
“I know. In the winter, the off-season a few years back, I was driving from Madrid down to the coast when I passed the house. There was no terrace or garage then, and the electricity wasfaulty. But I made it my mission to find out who owned the place, and made them an offer they could not refuse.”
“Look at you, quoting the Godfather,” I joked.
Sebastian leaned against the wall with me, and I found myself sneaking a glance at him, as though I wasn’t allowed to look. The wind was ruffling through his dark hair, and he had unbuttoned his shirt a little. I could see the expanse of dark chest hair but also a peek at his cover-up tattoo, a remnant of our most stupid bet.
Sebastian reached toward me and ran a finger down the centre of my chest. I breathed deep, and tried not to show how much it affected me. He was so casual with his touches, like he didn’t know the effect he had on me. He probably didn’t. I was nursing a schoolboy crush for a man who touched and hugged as easily as he breathed.
“This is a good cover of the old tattoo,” said Sebastian. “I like yours.”
“I can’t even see yours,” I whispered, feeling bold as I reached forwards to unbutton his shirt clumsily with one hand.
He shrugged the shirt to the floor when I was done, and we stood facing each other. I reached forwards and touched his tattoo, still visible under the chest hair that had grown over it. “I like yours,” I said. “It suits you.”
Sebastian’s hand moved from my chest to my hand and for a second it was like he was holding it. But then he changed the position of his fingers and forced me into a handshake. “Perhaps we should make a deal. No more permanent bets. Nothing that will leave a trace.”
“You’re no fun,” I chuckled, still struggling to keep my eyes from wandering his whole body But with his face looking so beautiful in the sunlight, it wasn’t a great pain to drag my gaze upward. “What if I want you to get a piercing?”
“Then I will make your forfeit even worse,Teodoro. You would end up with a Prince Albert hanging from your cock.”
“And how do you know I don’t already have one?” I challenged, trying to hold his gaze without laughing.”
“You are far too vanilla for a Prince Albert,” said Sebastian. “And I would have seen it in your Calvin Klein campaign.”
I almost spat out my ginger beer. “You saw my Calvin Klein campaign?”
“Who didn’t? You were everywhere, and when we were racing in Monaco two years ago there was a billboard directly opposite my hotel room, and I was directly level with where a Prince Albert would be.”
I dropped my head so that he couldn’t see the intense blush I could feel rising up through my neck and into my cheeks.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Sebastian said, tilting my head up under the chin with one finger. “You looked very handsome. Youlookvery handsome.”
The blush had breached containment, and my whole head felt hot under his gaze.
“Come on,Teodoro, let’s sit by the pool and you can tell me your strategy for the next three races so that I can beat you.”
“Hush, you,” I grinned, but he’d taken most of the awkwardness out of the air, so I followed him over to the poolside table and chairs.
“You don’t have many sunbeds here,” I said. “Do you not host many parties?”
Sebastian laughed softly. “Dear Teo, I have never hosted anyone here, except my own family. This is my private retreat.”
“Oh…wow. I feel honoured,” was all I could think to say.
“Please don’t mock me,” replied Sebastian. “I usually stay here alone in the off-weeks.”
“I really do appreciate it,” I said, holding up my glass. “To friendship?” I asked.
Sebastian hesitated for a second before clinking his glass with mine. “To friendship,” he affirmed.
Sebastian
Istretched out like a cat in my bed as I came to wakefulness. I always slept well at home, and despite my love for racing, had never acclimatised to the constant moving around and sleeping in hotels, no matter how comfortable or luxurious they might be.
