Trackside Temptation

Chapter Twenty-Six

MATTHIAS 

It was our final day in New Zealand. After a week of exploring the south, sharing deep and meaningful conversations by the waterfront, and having a lot of sex, we flew back to Francesca's hometown.

Francesca had spent the last few days catching up with her old friends, and somehow, she'd convinced me to join her for a final coffee with her best mate. As we entered the café, Ayane spotted us immediately.

"I can't believe I'm finally meeting you," Ayane beamed, making a beeline for me. She was a few centimetres shorter than Francesca but shared the same jet-black hair and dark brown eyes. Her warmth was apparent as she extended her arms in a welcoming gesture.

She pulled me into a tight hug, catching me off guard. By now, I should have realised that everyone I met seemed to appreciate physical affection.

"Francesca has told me all about you," she squealed.

I laughed. "I'm not sure I want to know what she said."

Francesca giggled beside me. "You really don't. Especially the things I said when we first started working together."

Ayane gave me a playful whack on the arm. "Yeah, you Formula One boys are so cocky." She shook her head, then leaned in, lowering her voice. "But if any of them are single and want a nice girlfriend who'll massage their feet after every race, let me know."

Francesca burst into laughter, and I could see why these two were best friends. They both had no filter.

We walked into a small café, where I paid for the three coffees. According to Ayane, it was the least I could do, being a millionaire and all.

"So what's your official status?" Ayane asked as we made our way to the outside sundeck.

I noticed Francesca shooting her a look that clearly said, seriously? She then walked over to me and hugged my side. "We're taking it slow."

Ayane smirked. "Not in the bedroom, though. I can imagine."

I closed my eyes with embarrassment, wondering just how much Francesca had shared.

"I haven't said a word," Francesca whispered.

Ayane chuckled. "God, you don't have to lie to me. You're both radiating that post-orgasm glow."

My coffee nearly became a hazard as I choked back a laugh, and Francesca's outburst sounded like a startled dolphin.

"Okay, enough about that," she said, still giggling. "Ayane, why don't you tell Matt about your Formula One fangirl days."

Ayane scoffed. "You make it sound like it's in the past. No honey, I am back in that era. You should see the thirst trap I made of Andy Lambert." She leaned in with a mischievous grin and whispered, "I have a thing for the older ones."

I laughed. "As long as you're not into Nico."

Ayane gaze darted to the side before her laughter filled the silence once again.

Francesca shook her head. "You're crazy."

For the next two hours, I listened to a parade of embarrassing stories about Francesca—from how she'd gotten lost in the supermarket at least twenty times as a child, to her impromptu dance in front of an entire restaurant when her favourite Lady Gaga song came on.

Watching her be so relaxed and happy warmed me. What made it even more special was that she remained just as comfortable when it was just to two of us. I wasn't sure how this woman had such a strong hold on me. It was fucking terrifying... but I absolutely craved it.