Pole Position: Between Logic and Passion

16

He tilted his head, studying me for a beat too long. “You okay?”

I hesitated. Then nodded. “Yeah. Just… couldn’t sleep.”

He reached for my hand, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “We had a long night. I’m not surprised.”

I forced a small laugh. “You wore me out.”

He grinned, and for a second, it was so normal. So him. And that’s what made it worse.

“Come on,” he said, standing and offering his hand. “Let’s eat something. I’m starving.”

I took it. Let him pull me up. Let him wrap an arm around my shoulders and lead me inside like everything was fine.

And maybe it was.

But my chest still felt tight. My thoughts still felt loud.

----

The dining area was already set, sunlight pouring through the wide windows, bouncing off polished wood and silver. A tray with fresh fruits, croissants, scrambled eggs, and coffee sat waiting for us. Too perfect. Too curated. Like everything here had been planned down to the smallest detail.

Charles poured himself a cup of coffee and handed it to me before fixing his own. He looked relaxed, at ease — as if the world wasn’t quietly spinning in the back of my head.

“Do you want juice too?” he asked, already reaching for the glass jug without waiting for my answer.

I nodded, biting into a strawberry. “Thanks.”

He sat across from me, legs stretched out, hair still tousled from sleep. And he smiled. That kind of smile that always felt like sunlight on skin. Warm. Disarming. Dangerous.

I sipped my coffee and tried not to overanalyze every second.

“Do you think we should anchor somewhere later?” he asked casually. “There’s a small cove I used to go to with my brothers when we were kids. Quiet. Private.”

I nodded again. “Sounds nice.”

He leaned back, watching me carefully now. “You’re quiet.”

“I’m just tired,” I lied. “Didn’t sleep well.”

“Hmm,” he murmured, taking a bite of croissant. “You were fine while I had you under me.”

I choked slightly on my coffee and shot him a look. He grinned like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“I’m kidding. Kind of.” His eyes sparkled. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

It was the third lie that morning. Maybe the fourth.

Because I wasn’t fine.

“You're in your head again,” he said suddenly, interrupting my thoughts.

I looked up sharply. “What?”

“You do that thing. Where your eyes get all far away. Like you’re trying to solve something.”

I forced a smile. “Maybe I’m just thinking about how nice this breakfast is.”

He narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. But he let it go.

“Good,” he said eventually. “I want this to be a break for you too. Just us. No pressure. No overthinking.”

I stabbed a piece of melon with more force than necessary.

Easy for him to say.

----

After breakfast, I agreed to go swimming.
Not because I was particularly excited about it — but because being underwater was the only way I could stop myself from asking questions I wasn’t ready to hear the answers to.