Page 42 of Head Over Wheels

‘I’ll just come and get it,’ I mumbled, gritting my teeth.

I turned away, but his hand shot out and closed in the soft fabric of the hoodie, at my waist.

‘Okay, maybe I don’t even care if you only want me when you lose,’ he murmured. Before I’d had a chance to process those words, his hands plunged into my hair, he tilted his head and then everything flipped upside down again as he pressed a hard kiss to my mouth.

What began as firm pressure, the scrape of his bottom lip over mine, quickly turned deep as I fumbled for him, for something to hold onto. My mouth fell open and I needed to get closer, even closer, clawing at him as his tongue swept through my mouth.

Maybe I did want him because I’d lost, because that evening had been wonderful, when I could have been wallowing in my own failure. Maybe if I lost again, he’d be there for me.

He broke away with a heavy breath, his eyes still closed. That upside-down floating sensation was still interfering with my balance when I stared at his face, his dark eyelashes, sharp cheekbones. I blossomed into a different person when I looked at him – someone protective and soft and chaotic. That person didn’t win races, but I didn’t mind her that night.

Turning his head so his cheek was on my forehead, his breath tickled my hair as he said, ‘I don’t want you to think I’m rejecting you.’

I stilled, the words sharp inside me. The blossom shrivelled like the weak thing it was. I didn’t like flowers anyway.

‘You’re a winner, Lori. No matter how much you add to your palmarès this year, even if a thousand horses cross your path, you’re a winner. I wanted to help you see that tonight, but it all went wrong.’

All wrong was a good way to describe that day, but I still struggled to regret it.

‘Go and fight. You deserve it – everything. I’d love to be your consolation prize, but you have to go for your main prize – right? Look to the future? You didn’t want any distractions this year and this… whatever we’re doing…’

‘Nudging each other,’ I muttered. ‘That’s all we were doing.’

His lips twitched and he smoothed a strand of my hair between his thumb and forefinger, making me shudder at the tenderness I didn’t know how to bear. ‘Nudging,’ he repeated with a wobbly smile. ‘It was nice nudging you, but… I don’t want to bring you down. You should be… up.’

He drew away and headed for the door to the lobby, leaving me to stumble after him, dazed, mixed up. Thankfully the hallways were empty as most of the team were sensibly flopped on their beds, groaning.

Seb knocked on his door briefly before opening up to retrieve my phone, while I hopped from foot to foot in the corridor. He greeted his roommate quietly and reappeared at the door with my phone and an earnest look.

‘See you…’ I wouldn’t have known how to finish that sentence either.

I was about to have a go at saying something – probably choked and stupid – when a loud voice from down the hall made us both jump. ‘Lori! What the fuck? Dad’s been calling you for hours!’

Hearing Colin was enough to banish the last of that soft, weak version of me. Gallaghers had steel instead of vertebrae, so I turned to my brother with a shrug, flapping my phone nonchalantly. ‘I forgot it in Seb’s room,’ I said, offering no further explanation. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll let Dad know I’m not dead. But now I’m going to bed.’

I turned away from both of them, heading for my door at the other end of the hall. I’d never been so relieved to have remembered my keycard, retrieving it out of the pocket of my tracksuit bottoms. Slipping into the dark room silently, I leaned back against the door while I got my breath under control.

Seb was right. I should be looking at the next race. Moonlight and romantic cities were for losers, even if that thought made my nose sting at the sudden image of him holding someone else’s hand while they meandered through the narrow lanes.

God, even when I’d been spending all my spare time with Gaetano, I’d never been so far off the map as this. Thoughts of luck were counterproductive. Seb had told me to fight, so I’d fight.

I heard a rustling in the corner as my roommate rolled over. ‘Are you okay, Lore?’ Doortje asked groggily.

‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ I lied. ‘But don’t wake me for breakfast in the morning.’

Forceful claps on my back from my dad and Colin’s annoyingly self-satisfied posture helped me shed the remaining hints of my wobble from the night before as we piled into a taxi to take us to the airport an hour away in Florence.

‘Leave it all behind, hey, Molly?’ Dad said.

I nodded wordlessly, definitelynotsad about everything else I would leave behind in Siena.

As Dad went back to retrieve a final suitcase from the lobby, Colin loped up to me, dipping his head to say quietly, ‘I found this outside your door this morning before you got up and I thought I should look after it for you in case Dad saw it.’ He slipped a paper bag into my hands, giving me an assessing look. ‘Seb wasn’t at breakfast either. Do I have to beat someone up?’

Swallowing a fresh surge of those pesky feelings from last night – embarrassment, shame and a prick of longing – I snatched the bag, crinkling it a little in my fist. ‘No common assault required, Brothernator. But watch your own nose if you stick it too far into my business.’

His pained look wasn’t what I was expecting. Perhaps my attempt at banter had sounded as weak as it had felt. ‘I’m here for you, monster. I’m trying to be here for you.’

‘And I’m your big sister and always will be,’ I retorted. ‘I was injured, not quitting!’

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