Race & Rally // Charles Leclerc

14.00

The smell of sea salt fills my lungs, the sun dancing across the water. I stretch my arms out letting my bare skin absorb the light, feeling the yacht sway with the current of the water.

"A drink for Miss Summers," whispers a familiar voice, my eyes fluttering open to see Charles holding a glass out to me.

"Why thank you Leclerc," I say, gladly taking the ice cold drink from his hands.

I had somehow convinced David to let me have the week free and stay in Monaco with Charles. We have been mostly staying on his yacht, feeling like it was too risky to be seen on the streets together. Even though it's nearing winter, the sun is still prominent, making a great excuse for me to wear a bikini most of the time. It has been beautifully peaceful, and has given me the chance to fully disconnect from the outside world.

I take a sip of my drink and Charles sits himself next to me, placing his arm around my shoulders.

"I can't wait for you to meet my mother," he randomly mentions, causing me to nearly spit out my drink. I sit up slightly.

"Already?!" I ask in shock. However, when I meet his eyes, he looks completely calm about the statement.

"I mean, technically it's been over five months since we first met. Plus, I might've talked about you a few times..." he mutters, looking away.

My jaw drops with delight. "You've told her about me?!"

"Maybe. Forget I said anything," he blushes, shoving a cushion in my direction.

Giggles escape my mouth as I lean over him. "Don't worry, I think that it's sweet Leclerc," I smirk, before planting a kiss on his lips.

I pull away before lying down next to him once more, draping my arms over his waist, his fingers massaging circles around my shoulders.

"Can I ask you something Summers?" he inquires.

"Mhmm," I mumble, my face pressed up against his chest.

"Do you have family? I mean, you never talk about them if you do," he says hesitantly.

I feel my mood deflate slightly, a sigh leaving my mouth. I never really had to explain my family situation to anyone before.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," he adds after there was an uncomfortable pause.

"No, no, it's not that. It's just I'm unsure how to explain it," I state, moving my head slightly to look at him.

"You can try," he says gently, moving hair away from my eyes.

I bite the inside of my cheek, thinking about how I am going to word this.
"Well firstly, I'm adopted," I begin. "I've zero idea who my biological parents are, and I'm honestly ok with that. I'm convinced my adoptive parents, Mira and Dylan, were as good, if not better, than my actual parents could've been."

Charles nods along in understanding, letting me speak and making sure he doesn't interrupt.

"They were so good to me. They brought me to every class that I wanted to go to, and when I realised that tennis was my passion, they supported me completely. My dad would bring me to the grass courts every day after school to practice."

I smile at the recollection of these memories that I haven't thought about for a while.

"When I was sixteen, they decided they wanted to adopt again. They ended up taking on three siblings, all very young, Kacy, Liam and Layla. Ten, eight, and four years old. I helped out as much as I possibly could in-between junior tournaments. We even brought them to a game or two. I loved them so much, it wasn't long until we all felt like actual siblings."