The Race Director's Daughter (Sebastian Vettel)

36. Making Up in Montreal

As Leah neared Aston Martin hospitality she saw Seb's press officer, Britta Roeske, waiting outside.  The petite, blonde German woman was leaning back against the building, tapping away on her phone.  Her thumbs were moving rapidly and Leah could tell by her body language that she was not happy. 

Leah approached her cautiously.  She hoped that Britta wouldn't be mad at Seb for sending her out to escort Leah inside.  It was hardly part of her job description.

As if she sensed Leah approaching Britta glanced up.  Leah saw her look at the FIA logo on Leah's polo shirt.

"Leah?" she asked.  Leah nodded. Britta held her hand out.  "Britta  Roeske.  I am so pleased to meet you."   She smiled genuinely at Leah.  Leah smiled back and shook her hand. 

"You too Britta.  How is he?  I can't believe what happened.  It's so unfair."

"He's not a happy bunny, that's for sure.  He's mad at the FIA, but he's more mad at himself for the mistake in the first place.  Follow me."

They headed inside. Leah was pleased that they didn't have to pass through the main hospitality area.  She didn't want people to notice her and begin gossiping.  She followed Britta down a plain white corridor, past a door with Seb's teammate's name on it and came to a halt at the end, in front of a white door with Seb's name stuck on it with blu tack. 

Britta knocked on the door. "Ja?" came Seb's voice.

"Seb, Leah's here," Britta said in English.

The door opened slightly. Britta turned to Leah. "Go on in."

Leah edged past Britta and pushed the door open further. She stepped inside. Seb was sat on the edge of a dove grey sofa. He had changed out of his race suit and was wearing a pair of black shorts and his Beatles Abbey Road T-shirt. He was hunched over with his head in his hands.

Leah quietly closed the door behind her and cautiously approached him. She stopped in front of him.

"Seb?" she said uncertainly. He moved his arms and wrapped them around her waist pulling her closer to him. He rested his head on her stomach.

Leah gently ran her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp.  She didn't speak.  They just stayed like that for several minutes, Seb holding her and Leah caressing his scalp. 

"I'm so fucking stupid," he finally said. 

"Mistakes happen.   The FIA should never have even investigated you.  You had no choice!"

"I don't mean that.  I mean us. The way I acted.  I don't want to lose you."

"You haven't lost me.  I'm here, aren't I?"  Seb released her and pulled her down onto his lap.  He rested his head on her chest, hugging her tightly.  

"I'm so sorry.  I'm an idiot.  A stubborn, jealous idiot.  I should have listened.  I was just so jealous thinking about Daniel with his arms around you. He fancies you..."

"So what if he does? Doesn't mean I fancy him. Why would I when I have the sweetest, sexiest boyfriend in the world?"

He raised his head and looked at her. She could see the anguish in his eyes. "So I'm still your boyfriend?"

"Unless you dumped me without telling me?"

"No way! I thought you might have dumped me for being an idiot."

"You are an idiot. That's true. But you're my idiot." She bent her head down and captured his mouth in a soft, gentle, lingering kiss. Seb sighed and his lips parted instinctively. Leah was still his. He slid his fingers into her hair, pulling her hairband out. Leah slid her tongue into his mouth, taking the lead in the kiss. Seb groaned against her mouth as he felt the first stirrings of desire.