She's back ~ L. Hamilton

99. | The Inn

"She said there's no other spare rooms, they're completely booked out" Lewis mumbled as he walked through the door of the room.

"I'll take the floor" we said in unison, making both of us stop and look over at the other

"No, I'll take the floor, you've a race in a few days, you can't have a bad back for it"

"I'll take the floor, I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing you're lying on the ground"

"Well I wont be able to sleep in the bed knowing your sleeping on the ground" I said, crossing my arms

This was not going to end well.

We continued to bicker about who would take the bed as we shuffled off our jackets and shoes. At one point Lewis tried to force me to go into the bed, but I simply grabbed one of the pillows and the throw blanket and lied down on the ground.

"You're a stubborn ass" he mumbled

"Im sleeping here" I said, turning over on my side, the hard wooden floor against my body

"Well then" he said, stripping the bed of the remaining blanket and pillow "I'm sleeping here too"

And with that, he set up a meter or so away from me on the ground

"Take the dam bed Hamilton, you've got a race in four days, you can't drive a formula 1 car with a sore back"

"I'd rather a sore back than sleep in a bed while you lie on the floor"

"So we're both sleeping on the floor then"

"Yep"

"Fine"

"Fine" I huffed, turning over again, my back to him.

My eyes fell on the Wimbledon trophy leaning against the wall across from me.

And it took a while, but as I felt myself drift off to sleep, my mind wondered over the last few days, and for the first time, I pictured myself lifting the US Open trophy in a couple weeks time.

I don't know how long I was asleep for, but I was awoken slightly by movement coming from behind me. And before I could turn to see what the noise was coming from, two strong arms wrapped around me, scooping me off the ground, blanket and all.

If I wasn't just after waking up and beyond exhausted from the flight, I might have protested.

Warm sheets, a soft mattress and a heavy quilt that was tucked around me with surprising gentleness.

I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders further. I felt the mattress dip behind me.

"We're both adults, we can share a bed" Lewis's voice mumbled from behind me "I don't want to make you uncomfortable though, so I'll take the floor if you want"

"Sleep in the dam bed Hamilton" I muttered

I glanced over and he was lying on the opposite side of the bed.

Ten minutes later and I was wide awake.

When I'd started thinking about lifting the trophy at the US Open, it led me down a thread. And I followed that thread until it led me to the worst outcomes of the US Open.

And now it's all I can think about.

"Laney I can practically hear the gears turning in your head" Lewis said from the other side of the bed, but by the tone of his voice, he was far from asleep as well

"A lot to think about" I responded

"What are you thinking so hard about?"

"The US Open" I said after a moment

"Oh" he says, "the good or the bad?"

"The bad, mostly"

He didn't respond immediately

"What's got you still awake?"

"How this formula 1 season is going to end"

"The good or the bad?" I say

"The bad, mostly" he says, repeating my words

I slid my arm across the mattress to grasp his hand. He took my hand, interlocking our fingers

"Delaware" I say

I hear him let out a small laugh.

"I just don't know how much longer I want to do this. I think this year might just be my last year challenging for a title"

"You want to give up driving?"

"No, I don't know" he says slowly "I'm just getting older, most people my age have retired by now"

"You're Lewis Hamilton, you wouldn't be where you are if you did what everyone else did. Believe me, letting someone else choose when you retire is one of the most painful things you can experience in a sport"

"But then what? My dream was always to become a world champion formula 1 driver. After I've retired, then what?"

I didn't say anything for a moment, the only noise coming from the wind against the window.

"You get to make a new dream" I say

"I think I have an idea or two" he says after a minute

"Really?" I say after a moment "me too"

I yawned, and Lewis rubbed his eyes, his other hand still in mine. But he didn't let go.

And when I awoke the next morning, warm and rested. Lewis was still holding my hand, clutched to his chest.