Page 54 of Head Over Wheels

He groaned and rubbed a hand over his eyes. ‘When you look at me like that, Lori… it doesn’t make it easier to walk away from you like I should.’

‘Why should you? We both know this can’t work long-term, but itisa great story for the media – the team.’

His expression darkened and my heart sank. There was definitely a winner and a loser in this conversation and my streak was obviously continuing.

‘It’s not in my contract, is it?’ he snapped.

‘No! I just thought—’ I hadn’t thought before I acted. ‘Ihate feeling useless like this. The team is my family and, if I can do something to help, I will.’ And maybe I didn’t want him to go, but I wasn’t enough of a loser to tell him that when he clearly wanted out.

His hand closed around my upper arm – probably reflexively, but regardless of his motivation, it was lovely to have him touch me again. ‘You’re going to win again soon. But, even if it takes a while, you don’t have to sacrifice yourself—’ He cut himself off, his gaze caught on something over my shoulder. I turned to see two older women in matching dull green parkas, standing by a dented little Renault. His grandma peered at me curiously, but both looked ready to murder me in my sleep if I hurt him.

Oops. How much had they heard? It must have been obvious we’d been arguing. He dropped his hand abruptly.

Leaning close with a stormy expression in his gaze, he said the last thing I expected. ‘Look, don’t get their hopes up too much, eh?’

‘Their hopes?’

‘I never… bring girlfriends to meet them and we’re not… anyway.’

My brain froze on the word ‘girlfriends’ and that big fat ‘never’.

His grandma approached me first, hesitantly. ‘You’reLori,’ she said with meaningful emphasis that gave me goosebumps. ‘I didn’t know if he would admit the reason he spent so much time in his room in the autumn!’ Her accent was detectable, but her English was excellent.

‘You know about that?’ he spluttered.

‘Our boy goes from punishing training alone to talking all night and laughing – of course I know,’ she said with a twitch of a smile that caught me in the ribs. She added something under her breath in French that madeSeb grit his teeth. ‘I’m Albertine,’ she said, ‘but you can call me Mamie.’

‘You don’t have to call her Mamie,’ Seb interjected.

‘You call your grandma “Mummy”?’ I asked.

‘Mamie,’ he repeated, correcting my pronunciation. I really hadn’t heard him speaking French often enough. The little pout in his lips gave me a whole new set of ideas. ‘It’s just French for “Grandma”. And this is my mum, Rôsine.’

‘Don’t call me Maman,’ she said sharply, extending her arm for a haughty handshake that felt like a test I was destined to fail.

Seb tossed his duffle bag into the back seat of the Renault and I stupidly only then understood why he’d walked out to the car park. If he was going to eat with his family, would I even see him again tonight at the hotel? What about our conversation? I wasn’t done here.

Ouch, that word reminded me of December with a wash of something very much like guilt. Nothing between Seb and me was ‘done’. Everything I’d said in my fog of emotion had only made things worse.

He’d warned me off meeting his family. I should take the hint. But I couldn’t stand him thinking the best kiss of my life had only been for show – which was why, when he climbed into the dinky car, chaos muppet Lori dived in after him.

Seb

I could still feel the rough surface of the cobblestone trophy under my fingers, even though it was in my bag in the boot of the car. The best result of my career – the scrappiest fight with the biggest payoff. But I suspected the elation of hard-won success would always be twisted together with the heart-stopping touch of Lori’s lips on mine.

For the cameras. For the team. Maybe because she was attracted to me, but she wouldn’t admit it and that didn’t remove much of the sting.

She wanted to use me for whatever wild reason she’d come up with and the worst part was, I wanted to let her. She was sitting across the back seat from me, a storm in her eyes. When she lost, she came to me and my heart beat a loopy, syrupy rhythm when that thought curled up in my brain.

But no, the kiss had rattled me. I had a new life to plan – a gaping hole that didn’t need the addition of a gaping wound in my chest if I accidentally got attached. She’d ghosted me once and, even though I understood the pressure she was under, I didn’t want a repeat of that when her form returned. She’d leave me. Sooner or later – and later would only hurt more. I leaned my head against the window as spatters of rain started up again, consumed by questions about why Lori Gallagher had jumped into the car after me and whether she realised where we were headed. I assumed it had been something of an accident – one of her split-second decisions.

Were we kidnapping her? Taking her out of the country under false pretences? I would have felt more guilty about that, except that after Colin’s prank in the Pyrenees, I had no problem making him come and collect his sister from the countryside in Wallonia, damn it.

I could feel the questions from Maman and Mamie – lots of questions – but what was the point in insisting we were only friends when she’d kissed me senseless and was coming home with me? If she really wanted to play out this public romance, we still had to talk. For now, I was perversely enjoying Lori’s discomfort.

One of her legs moved restlessly and her arms were crossed as she gazed out of the window at the gathering dusk. As much as I knew we didn’t work as a real couple, there was a real tightness in my chest as I looked at her. I’d missed her face – her freckled, angular cheekbones, the firm set of her mouth.

Before the farce with the media and her family, today’s race had been the best of my life – not only because of the fight and the result. Because she’d breathed life back into me at the end and reminded me to be proud. I wanted to take her hand and lace my fingers with hers while we both looked out the window, sulking.