Adrenaline: A Lestappen Story

𝟐.𝟐 - 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫

Once out of the call, Max was left with a whiplash sensation as he sat on the couch, still trying to gather the reasons as to why he would have suggested for them to meet again.

"Want some wine?" Kelly, inquired, gliding towards the younger man with an elegant glass of red wine cradled in her hands. Shaking his head, the man declined the offer, a subtle shift in mood not escaping Kelly's observant gaze. They had shared their lives for the past two years, and she was quick to detect the nuances in his demeanor.

"What's up, don't like the party?" she asked, taking a seat by his side.

"No, It's fine." he shrugged, not really meeting her gaze, afraid that somehow she would be able to read the truth through his eyes.

"I'm a bit tired, I might go home." Max confessed, a half lie that sounded so true not even his own father would be able to tell it apart from one.

"Max, you never see your friends, and we barely go out like this." his girlfriend began to debate his stay. "You should try making a little effort, try to have some fun..." she said, nearing closer to him.

Suddenly, and fortunately for Max, their conversation was interrupted by one of his intoxicated friends stumbling over with his even more inebriated brother in tow. "Max, do you mind taking Josh home? I think he drank way too much, and he's about to vomit on this yacht."

Seizing the unexpected diversion as a godsend, Max didn't hesitate for a moment. "Sure, no worries," he responded, sensing a way out of the impending conversation with his girlfriend.

"Thanks, Max, you're the best," his friend expressed gratitude, passing his brother over to Max so he could assist him in walking off the dock. Max's swift acceptance of the responsibility, however, seemed to cast a shadow over his girlfriend's features, her facial expressions darkening with discontent.

As Max helped Josh navigate the unsteady path off the dock, he couldn't shake the feeling of relief that washed over him. The distraction from the impending conversation with Kelly was a welcome reprieve, and he focused on ensuring Josh's safe exit from the yacht.

Meanwhile, Kelly observed the scene with a subtle furrow in her brow, her discontent simmering just beneath the surface. The abrupt change in Max's plans hadn't gone unnoticed, and a sense of tension lingered in the air.

"Don't ruin my yacht," Max called back to his friend, attempting to keep the situation light-hearted despite the underlying tension.

His friend chuckled, offering a half-hearted salute. "You got it, Max. Thanks, man!"

Without offering a proper farewell to his girlfriend, Max swiftly departed, a seemingly legitimate reason tucked away in his back pocket. Once he ensured Josh was safely delivered home, Max wasted no time tracing the path to Charles's residence.

Navigating the streets with a quiet resolve, Max aimed to draw minimal attention to himself. He moved discreetly, keeping his presence inconspicuous until he found himself in proximity to the Ferrari driver's home. The anticipation of the impending conversation with Charles heightened, and Max hoped this unexpected visit wouldn't complicate an already complex situation.

The Red Bull driver would have no trouble getting past the lobby, and as fate would have it, the moment he stepped foot into the area, his eyes met the green ones, leaving him like a deer in the headlights. He shook it off and walked toward him, not wanting to draw any attention to themselves.

There was so much that threatened to leave their mouths but with a quick greeting and quicker escape to privacy, Charles led them up to his apartment. Unable to make conversation on their way up, only focusing on how close they were and how much he'd replayed their encounter throughout the past couple days, it was impossible to workout the nerve to say anything for a while.