• Fourteen •

4.8K 122 23
                                    

Sunday

Knock.

I turn in the bed, groaning quietly.

Another knock.

Now I'm really groaning, trying to wake up in a sleep haze.

The door knocks for the third time.

Oh for fucks sake. I pull the blanket off me, the cold world hitting me right in the face, as I force my bare feet out of bed.

"Coming!" I shout hoarsely, hurrying towards the hotel door. Why the fuck is Richard here at this time? We have a big day today, the interview with Leclerc.

Did I sleep through my alarm..!?

I unlock the door with a satisfying click, swinging the heavy door wide open.

My eyes widen.

Fuck.

"Leclerc?" I announce awkwardly, suddenly wide awake.

My cheeks flush bright pink in embarrassment, as I look down at myself. I'm a hot mess. And not hot as attractive, hot as I look fucking shit.

I'm in an oversized t-shirt, nothing under, my hair tangled in a bun from last night and my face swelled and makeup-less.

My mind immediately flashes with memories of his lips against mine. God, this isn't the impression I wanna give.

"Verstappen." Leclerc responds, flashing a cocky grin. Of course he looks fucking fantastic. In a white button down and loose black pants, he looks annoyingly well put together.

I pause. "What are you doing here..?" I ask awkwardly, rubbing my still very sleepy eyes, as I look at the cheerful Leclerc.

His grin simply grows, like he's enjoying my sleepy- and cluelessness. "I just called myself in sick" He states, crossing his arms across his chest.

I stare at him blankly. And then realization hits me. "What?!" I almost shout, my eyes wide. We were supposed to do an interview today, or as Max says it date disguised as an interview.

Richard had finally found a date that worked from the paper Ollie gave me, given to him by Charles, and he'd planned an interview for the day.

Leclerc looks joyously at me, clearly satisfied with my reaction. "In a moment Richard will call you, cancelling the interview and letting you have the day off" He declares.

Never in my life have I been this confused. Why would he want to cancel the interview when he's the one who's suggested it?

"And that day, you'll spend with me" Leclerc flashes his best grin, charming and luring.

"Wha..?" I begin to mumble, but my words quickly trail off as it all registers in my slow, horribly tired head.

He's taking me out on a date.

A real one.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Leclerc pulls an incredibly stupid looking hat over his hair, pairing it with a pair of god awful green sunglasses.

Richard did call me. And he did give me the day off. So here we're sat, in a fancy car, getting ready for whatever Leclerc has planned.

"We're already popular enough in the media, so we'll have to disguise ourselves slightly" He explains with a pleased smile, finding an even more horrible, pink hat and putting it on my head.

The bet | Charles LeclercWhere stories live. Discover now