She paused on the terrace when she caught sight of Dad, before pasting a smile onto her face. ‘Morning, Tony.’
‘Good morning, Leesa. What a sight, seeing you back in cycling kit, although it doesn’t quite look right without our team colours.’
She smoothed a hand along her waist and my eyes followed the movement helplessly. Did she like the colours I’d chosen?
‘It is strange without logos splashed across my boobs,’ she said and I stifled a snort.
‘I understand you’re accompanying Colin on a recovery ride.’
The way her gaze flickered to me suggested she’d picked up on the residual antagonism simmering between Dad and me.
‘Leesa hasn’t—’
‘Yes!’ She cut me off before I could explain, which was interesting. ‘I can’t come to the Alps and not get on a bike.’
Dad grinned at her. ‘Right you are! Just make sure he takes it easy. No showing off in front of the lady.’
Her smile in response was amused. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll bring him back safe.’
Leesa
I couldn’t help feeling guilty as Tony went back inside, leaving us alone. Apparently, I was a co-conspirator, now.
‘Hey,’ was all he said in greeting. It was still enough to make me tongue-tied. ‘Thanks for taking the pressure off with Dad.’
I gave an inarticulate shrug. ‘It’s not like I’m helping you sneak out.’ Although it kind of felt that way. His eyes on me, hot and glowing, weren’t helping the wild mixture of emotions in my stomach.
He propped his hands on his hips. ‘How’re you feelin’?’
He knew what a can of worms that question was, the bastard, and my nerves were volatile enough to answer with shocking honesty. ‘Beautiful,’ I said with a huff.
The kit he’d bought me was worth half a month’s intern salary. It was sleek and stylish, ochre-pink with geometric swirls up the side and over one sleeve. The fabric was smooth and light without being slippery. I wasn’t a pro any more, as the saggy bits on the back of my thighs proved, but I couldn’t deny the way my heart had leaped when I’d seen this jersey – and pounded when I’d pulled it on this morning.
‘Good.’
I hadn’t noticed him come closer and, now that he was in my space, it was too late to pretend I didn’t like him there. For a strung-out second, I thought he was about to plant a kiss right on my lips, but it landed on my cheek instead, feather-light.
My throat was thick. That was two cheek-kisses in two days. What did it mean that we were cheek-kissing these days? Just that he’d lived in southern Europe too long? In Poland, he’d press one to each cheek and an extra for good measure.
‘Your dad didn’t look too happy,’ I said carefully. ‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’
‘You’re not getting out of it.’
‘That’s not why I asked,’ I snapped, taking a deep breath. ‘I don’t want to be a distraction. You don’t have to come with me.’ Now that I was all dressed up, getting on that bike – and whatever happened next – was inevitable.
I could see he’d guessed I’d overheard more of his conversation with Tony than had been apparent. His chin came up. ‘Leesa, I can’t do this without a distraction. The Tour, this sponsor shit – I need to breathe sometimes and despite what you and Dad seem to think, I’m a fucking adult who knows what he needs.’
I blinked at him, seeing those cracks again – rebellion. But it didn’t seem to make him weak – the opposite. Maybe Colin was finding his strength. Perhaps this was the narrative, except that I was here too. I didn’t belong in the picture.
He stalked to the other bike that was propped up against the railing in the car park, grabbing it by the stem and heading for the road, his shoes crunching on the gravel.
‘You want to let off steam with me? Is that what this is?’
The smile he shot me over his shoulder was a more familiar one, but with a reckless slant that was compelling. ‘I’d love to. You know I would. But that hasn’t worked out so far.’
My cheeks burned as I caught his meaning. ‘I meant the banter and the pranks.’
‘Sure you did, but that’s not what today is about.’ With a sigh, he turned back to face me. ‘You know there are other reasons to ride a bike than winning the Tour de France?’
