Connections (F1 story)

Chapter Thirty: Surprises

The rather burnt pizza was eaten along with a handful of carrot sticks and then washed down with another beer before we retired to the sofa to endure some reality TV rubbish. I didn't mind though; Daniel was distracting me all the way through it instead.

A niggling thought at the back of my head was reminding me that I had so much work to do, countless emails to write, and many phone calls to make. They could wait another twelve hours though, surely?

Right now I didn't want to move from where a was, leant on Daniel's side, my head on his chest listening to his heartbeat rise and fall as he dozed in and out of a light sleep. Our legs were rested against each other's on the sofa, andI had pins and needles in my right one but that could easily be ignored.

"We'd better get you to bed." I spoke up begrudgingly, switching the TV off by the remote.

He stirred, tilting his head up, blinking a few times, "so you didn't do a runner."

"I was very tempted after you made me clear up." I wriggled out of his grip, standing up and yawning- raising my arms above my head in a circular formation as I did so.

"I helped by getting you another drink."

"You did," I then reached for his hand, pulling him up from the couch. "It's only eleven but I'm tired too." I took a quick sneak at my watch that the guys had kindly got me as a birthday present.

"I had better go and make sure we can actually get into bed." Daniel let out a wry laugh, although not joking, his room was worse than the condition of mine (however much he complained about the state of my suite when we were away).

He stumbled off as I turned off the remaining lights and shut the blinds, feeling proud of myself that I had remembered to check that the front door was locked.

I took my turn to use the bathroom, brushing my teeth and changing into what could be considered as nightwear. In reality it was just a pair of old shorts and a baggy T-shirt. My hair remained at high in its bun, but I just added a little dry shampoo to it, so it didn't look completely awful.

"It's as good as it's going to get I am afraid." The Australian surveyed the room, with the wardrobe was hanging half open and I could see that the majority of clothes had been 'put away' in there.

I walked round to the side of the bed which I slept last time I stayed in the presence, clambering in under the sheets. It was bloody comfortable until:

"Daniel, what the fuck is that?" I questioned, bravely pulling out a piece of fabric. A sock. Bloody charming. "Delightful, Ricciardo." I tossed it to him as he changed behind the door of the wardrobe, not bothering to use the bathroom.

He disappeared for a few moments to brush his teeth and what not, whilst I replied to Sam's text. I agreed to meet him on the Wednesday (the following day) for lunch. I kinda owed it to him.

I propped up my pillows and switched the glass lamp off beside me, causing the room to plunge into darkness.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Daniel reemerged, turning the only light that was still left on, off. He gingerly navigated his way around the pitch black space.

"That's my foot." I said as he reached for the bed.

"Sorry." He sniggered, finally getting in and rolling over. He was shirtless.

"So you should be." I shuffled up to him, he had put some kind of aftershave on that I hadn't yet smelt on him,"you smell good."

"Thank you." he murmured, feeling for my hand under the covers.