Page 3 of Away With You
Over the last F1 season, which ended last week, leaving a gaping three-month hole in my weekend TV viewing schedule, I’d become addicted to the Instagram page of Cherie Brenner. She posts wonderful behind-the-scenes titbits from the paddock and gave the whole place a more human spin. And then there was her growing relationship with the Ice Man of F1, who we all watched melt into a puddle every time she was near him. It was like viewing a romantic comedy unfold in real-time, and I was obsessed by the whole thing.
“Wait! Does that mean Cherry Brenner lives near me?” This is too good to be true. All this time I’ve been tangentially close to this icon, and I didn’t even know it.
“Ah, well. Shedidlive near you. Just by Clapham Common, actually. But as I said, she’s moving.”
My lower lip juts out at the injustice of it all. It’s weird given I’m an introvert who struggles to make friends, but I have a strange sense that if I met Cherry, we’d click. Now I guess I’ll never know.
“She’s moving to Monaco? To be with Nicky?” I ask.
Nathan hesitates, and I understand his reaction. The couple have had a rough time with the paparazzi and tries to keep a low profile as much as they can, despite Nicky’s celebrity status.
“Never mind,” I say. “It’s not my business.”
His chuckle is low and has the hairs on my arms standing up. Or maybe it’s the cold? “Can I say, I love that you’re fan-girling over Cherry and not me.”
It is strange how we’ve been standing in the street for at least five minutes now, and the vibe between us seems less fan-meeting-F1-superstar and more like two-friends-reuniting-after-years-apart. I guess that was always part of his charm; his ability to make people everywhere, from any background, feel special.
“Eh, Cherry’s awesome.”
His brows rise to his hairline. “You obviously know a bit about F1 to know about Cherry. Tell me, Kitty Kat, have you been watching me as well?”
Tingles dance up and down my spine at that nickname. Coming out of those lips. In that tone. Nathan is the only person who ever made a nickname from my already shortened name, and at the time, my sixteen-year-old heart had adored it.
“Well, you’re pretty hard to miss.” My words are sassy, but my tone is all wrong. I sound breathless, like I do when I walk upthe one flight of stairs to get to my flat. “I mean, you don’t hate the spotlight.”
My lips twitch as he chuckles. Even now, with all his fame and glory, the man can take a bit of ribbing. It’s nice to know some things don’t change.
“Anyhoo.”Did I just say ‘anyhoo?’ Groan.“I’d better get going. It was nice seeing you again, Nathan.”
I allow my greedy eyeballs one more turn to glance over him and then, with a wave, I walk away. I’ve taken three steps when I sense him next to me. Easy to do, what with him being a hulking giant and all.
“What are you doing?” I stop and glare up at him. He’s supposed to be going in the other direction.
One side of his mouth hitches up, and he points to his pockets. “Got to make sure both you and your oranges get home safely.”
“But, but…” I splutter.
He takes my arm and nudges me forward. “It’ll be easier if you just go with it.”
Giving in, I shrug. We walk together in silence, the noise of the peak-hour traffic doing little to drown out my inner thoughts. Do I want Nathan to see where I live? Not particularly. It’s not like my flat is a hovel, but it’s not like where he’d be used to staying. Given I straddle the border between two suburbs, I get to stay in a comfortable place while paying Brixton-level rent. It’s worked well for me so far. I just hadn’t ever expected to be in this situation. But then, why would I? I’m still not convinced this isn’t all a dream.
I stop in front of my building, giving it a once-over with objective eyes. It’s three-storeys high. The exterior was painted red and white, mostly chipped away now, but this is luckily hidden by the evening light. My flat is on the first floor and has large bay windows that overlook the street in front of it. Theentire place sometimes smells like curry, and the hot water is hit-or-miss, but overall, it’s home. It’s my safe space.
“This is me.”
Nathan cranes his neck to get a look at the place, humming under his breath and giving me zero indication of what he thinks of the place. Not that I should care either way. This man is nothing to me. And yet, I do. I want him to think well of me. I want him to walk away from this mini-reunion with a good impression of his old friend Katie, in her grown-up form.
“So, goodbye for real now.” I wave my bags at him and, of course, one gives up altogether. I groan as I watch as, almost in slow motion, my oranges, my sad lady meals for one and my jumbo-sized bag of crisps all fall at his feet. He stares down at the collection, his eyes lighting up with delight. Before I can move or even blink, he’s gathered up my shopping and is cradling it all in his arms. His big, manly arms with biceps that cannot be hidden by his delicious peacoat.
“I’ll just help you get these up to your flat and then will leave you in peace.”
I study him from under my lashes, taking in the stubborn set of his jaw, and heave out a sigh. It seems Mr Nathan Jackson isn’t done with me yet. One can only wonder what the rest of this encounter will look like.
I can’t even pretend I’m not excited to find out.
CHAPTER 2
KATIE
