I grimaced. “We love each other, and we’re working through it. Don’t tell anyone, but his career relies on winning the trophy. We’ve promised to compete hard against each other no matter what, but it doesn’t exactly make me feel good to know winning could fuck with his career.”
“And you wouldn’t let him win, just this once?” asked Bradley.
“I’ve thought about it, more than once,” I admitted. “But imagine if I did, and then I never had a championship-winning car again? Or if someone could somehow prove I threw the race? It might kill my career and his, and what would that be worth?”
In all honesty, the scores were so close that it was anyone’s game. After my win in Krakow, I’d come third in Hamburg and then won again at Zandvoort. I was going into the final race of the European Tour with one point more than Sebastian and nine more than Max. If any of us won the next race, we could be winners of the European Tour. The points would carry over to the American Tour in a couple of months, but one of us would be declared champion of Europe.
It had been a lifelong dream to win the European Trophy on home soil, but now I wasn’t so sure how I would feel, if holding that trophy up meant looking into Sebastian’s eyes as his career fell apart around him.
We sat in silence as the plane descended ever closer to the tarmac, and I let out a breath as the wheels finally touched the ground.
“Let’s just chill out. You’re not needed until tomorrow, right?” asked Bradley
“Bright and early,” I said.
“No plans to see Sebastian?”
“Nah, he hasn’t replied to my text before we left. Some teams have a total shut down for the week of the European final, so I don’t blame him for being a bit slow to get back to me,” I said.
The plane had slowed and was taxiing to a stop. We both unbuckled and stood. Bradley leaned down in front of the window to tie his shoelace. “Could you grab our hand luggage from the lockers?” he asked. “I’ll have some guys bring our suitcases straight to the accommodation, we can chill in Birmingham for a couple of hours if you like.”
“That would be nice. Is Arthur around? If I win the tour, I’d love for a commemorative tattoo,” I said.
“You can ask him about it night now,” replied Bradley. He gestured towards the door, which the stewardess had lowered so that we could step off the plane. Bradley kept close behind me, and I shielded my eyes as I stepped out. It was a cloudy day, but the mid-summer sun was still trying to break through.
As my eyes adjusted, I caught sight of Arthur on the tarmac. I gave him a big wave, and started to step down the stairs to meet him. But before I could reach him, another figure stepped out of the shadows of the terminal and into the light. A beautiful, familiar figure in his favourite linen shirt and shorts.
“Sebastian!” I shouted, rudely rocketing past Arthur as my boyfriend held his arms out to me. It had only been a couple of days since we’d seen each other after the Zandvoort race, and he still had the marks on his neck to prove it. I kissed each of them in turn before kissing him on the lips. His stubble was a little rougher than normal, and he looked as tired as I felt with bags under his eyes, but I was so happy to see him.
“You cousin asked me to join you all for the day, I hope that is alright,” said Sebastian.
“Of course. I can’t wait for you to get to know each other,” I replied. I melted into his arms, and I could feel myself breathing easier after the tense flight. Somehow, my biggest competition was also the person that made me feel safest and most relaxed. And we could both do with the feeling of safety over the next couple of days.
“So. Anyone for curry?” asked Bradley. I barely extricated myself from Sebastian’s arms, simply moving him so that we linked arms rather than the full bodysmushI’d forced on him.
“Ready for anything,” I said, even as my stomach did a little lurch again. We were in the endgame now, and I had no idea how Sebastian would come out the other side.
My stomach rumbled, but I was picking at my curry like it had offended me. Both Bradley and Arthur had dug into theirs, but I could see Sebastian doing exactly the same thing as me. Pre-race day was always anxiety inducing, but this felt different. Uncharted territory.
“How’s the tattoo, Sebastian?” Arthur asked.
“Beautiful, thank you. You helped me to cover up a horrible lie.” Sebastian winked at me, and the butterflies in my stomach eased a little. We were both going to be fine, right?
“What did yours say again, I can’t remember?” asked Arthur, still looking at Sebastian. “I remember designing the cover up but I can’t quite figure out the wording.”
I could feel my cheeks heating as I thought about just how immature I’d been. At how much hatred I’d felt for Sebastian in that moment. How I’d wanted to hurt him, embarrass him. And how obviously he had wanted to do the same to me.
I looked at him now. In the dim light of the restaurant in Birmingham’s curry quarter. Candlelight flickering over tanned skin and burnt-caramel brown eyes. Perhaps it wasn’t hatred I’d felt for him. Perhaps it was all the passion I had bubbling over into a different channel. A more destructive one in the face of a man I thought couldn’t possibly love me back.
“Earth to Theo,” said Arthur, waving a hand in front of my eyes. “Are you OK?”
“Yeah…yeah. Just need some air,” I muttered. I stood up from the table and weaved my way through the cramped little restaurant.
Outside, it was getting cold. Not cold for Britain, of course, it was midsummer, but I sometimes felt like I was made for the Andalusian heat. I needed dry heat, the sounds of crickets chirping.
I sat down in front of the window of the restaurant and put my head in my hands. I breathed in and out slowly until I got my heart rate under control.
“I used to get like this before a big fight,” said Bradley from beside me. He sank to his haunches in front of me and took my hands in his bigger ones, covered in ink and calluses. “Only person who could calm me down was Arthur.”
