LOVE OR RIDE | LESTAPPEN

chapter twenty-one - baby steps?

Charles

I open my eyes reluctantly. I would most gladly go back to sleep, but today our stay at the hotel ends and we have to return to Monaco. I want to move to get up, but something, or rather someone, prevents me from doing so. After a moment, I realize that it is Max, who is hugging me from behind, and his face is snuggled into my neck. Warm and calm breathing wraps around my skin every now and then, and although it's pleasant enough that I'd like to stay in this bed for the next few hours, with an aching heart, I take his hands off my body and move away, feeling the chill right away. I continue to feel bad that I left Max, who felt bad after the race because of what happened, and went with Hamilton, who turned out to be a hick. I should have known that it is Max who is more important, and I acted, like an idiot. Blindfolded, stupid Leclerc ran after a ex, thinking that maybe further something could come of it.

I turn toward Verstappen with a smile to wake him up and I freeze. The smile comes off my face, and I sit still, looking at him intently. There is a bruise on his cheekbone, a cut on his lip, and huge bruises on his ribs. I carefully remove the quilt from him, swallowing my saliva with difficulty. His entire abdomen is covered with maroon bruises. I cover it again, gently running a finger over my cheek.

"Max." I say quietly, wanting to wake him up.

"Hmm..." He mutters under his breath, wanting to turn onto his stomach, but as soon as he moves he hisses in pain and contorts his face, immediately freezing. I think he realizes that I can see what has happened to him. And if he tries to dimly tell me that it was me who beat him in his sleep, I'll throw him down the stairs. "Hi." he says in a hoarse voice, opening his eyes.

"What happened to you?" I ask concerned. "He was here? Is that what he did to you?" I add increasingly panicked. "God, it's my fault, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have involved you, and now..." the boy puts his hand over my mouth to make me stop talking.

"It wasn't about you and no, there was no one here. Take it easy, Charles. Everything is fine." he rises to sit down, trying not to croak, however, I can see that everything hurts him. "Shall I make you breakfast? How are you feeling?" he asks, ignoring my worried look.

"God, Max, are you seriously asking now how I feel? Don't annoy me, you're the one who needs care, not me. I got a big, nasty rejection, and I'll get over it somehow." I shrug my shoulders, getting out of bed. "What do you want for breakfast?" I ask, walking toward the door.

"Don't be silly, go back to bed, Charles. You're the one here..." he doesn't finish, grabbing his stomach as he wants to get up.

"You lie down." I point my index finger at him. "Toast?" I ask, to which he reluctantly nods. I smile uncontrollably, looking at his sleepy face. He looks perfect immediately after getting up. His hair falls across his forehead as he lies on his stomach and hugs his pillow. The white quilt covers him only from the waist down, through which I can see his muscular back, tanned skin and.... Fuck, Charles. I walk out of the room, noticing my phone on the couch. I quickly take it in hand and see a missed call from Daniel. Confused, I call back, going to the kitchen to make Max breakfast. "You called." I say when he picks up.

"How is he? I'm calling you because he specifically ignores all messages." He sighs resignedly.

"That is, you know what happened. Tell me what you know." I order, taking toasted bread out of the cabinet.

"Charles, I can't, you know that." he says sadly. "But believe me, what happened was on an important matter, and don't get angry with him about it."