«Like the brutal morning sun, it dawns on me, what have I done? Saying sorry ain't as good as saying why, but it buys me a little more time.»
---
By now Charles should've known plans weren't always bound to happen as was expected. He had seen it throughout his entire life, so the most logical thing was for him to be prepared in case things didn't go the way he'd thought they would. Which had brought him to the current situation.
If someone had told Charles a few months ago that the sight of Sloane would make him want to get sucked into another dimension, he would have laughed. Sloane used to be dried tears and comforting embraces after a shitty race, champagne kisses when he was on the podium, adventures in Monaco during his free time, dancing at a club in a sea of sweaty bodies, and so much more, but now, as he stared at her figure on the hotel lobby, Charles wanted to turn around and run as far away as it was possible.
It felt like a real nightmare. Texas was really not the embodiment of the American dream.
The desire to leave the hotel was still there as he attentively looked at how she spoke with the receptionist, hand tightly grabbing her suitcase. It was a moment of paralysis, and it took his teammate colliding against him for Charles to recover from his spell.
Carlos, who had been too distracted talking to his PR girl, looked at him. "Charles, you're blocking the way, come on." He rolled his eyes.
Charles turned to him and if he didn't believe he looked shocked, the change in Carlos and his expression just confirmed how wrong he was about that. His teammate frowned in confusion.
"You're pale." He said matter of factly. "More than usual." Carlos tilted his head, scanning Charles with attention.
Charles blinked. "Do you remember Sloane?" Carlos nodded, his frown changing to a quirked eyebrow. "Please tell me she's not at the reception right now, tell me I'm just seeing things because I'm fucking tired." Truth be told, it was hard to be mistaken about Sloane. The girl was something else.
Carlos' facial expressions weren't that hard to read, he was in between amusement and surprise before he slowly turned his attention to the direction of the principal desk in the lobby. Charles could only curse in his mind the moment his teammate gasped, it was almost nothing, but he saw his lips parting in surprise. That was Sloane.
"She looks good?" Carlos tried to smile, though it looked more like a grimace.
"What the hell, Carlos?" Charles frowned, his supposed low whisper coming out a bit louder than what he intended.
"What do you want me to say? You look like you just saw a ghost — oh God, she's looking at the Ferrari guy who just stood next to her." Carlos was side-eyeing the whole situation, Charles was just feeling too much. "What is she doing here? Aren't you two broken up? I thought you were with Aurora!"
"Shhh!" Charles was so close to putting his hand on his mouth. "We're broken up, she's —" He stopped mid-sentence, registering Carlos' words. "How do you know about Aurora?"
Carlos rolled his eyes. "Really, Charles? The girl looks like a tomato whenever she comes out of your room. Poor thing." Okay, they were the worst at everything. "I doubt that's important right now, your ex-girlfriend who just happens to be your current girlfriend's best friend—"
"She's not my girlfriend." Yet, he wanted to say but that didn't matter at the moment.
"Fuck's sake, mate. That's what you care about right now?" At least one of the two was putting some brain into the situation because Charles was melted. He couldn't even take another glance, too afraid Sloane would catch him. "Just walk back out, I'll tell them you dropped your sunglasses or something, I don't know. Then I'll text you when she's gone."
