Grace POV
I rush to my car as the rain falls. I've never seen it rain this bad. I opened the door getting in, and I was soaked, to say the least, and had only stepped outside for about ten seconds. I turned the car on and the heating to warm me up a bit, hoping the rain would die down by the time I reached my apartment. After placing the seatbelt around me, I carefully pull out.
"No,no,no," I say after a few minutes of driving my car makes a noise and begins to slow. I pull over, resting my head on the wheel.
"Can this day get any worse," I mumble. The road was clear. Nobody was around, which meant no help. I sigh, unfasening my seatbelt and stepping out of the car.
I pop the hood up and look inside. I honestly had no idea what I was looking for. My dad taught me basics about cars, how to change a tire, how to check the oil stuff like that. I always zoned out when it came down to the engine.
I pulled my phone out and tried to ring a tow truck company, but I had no service.
"Just great," I say, kicking the tire slightly.
"Grace?" I turned around to see a very wet Daniel Ricciardo standing in front of me, his shirt sticking to his body. I couldn't help but look.
"Daniel," i give him a small smile. I was on the verge of tears. My day wasn't going the way I wanted. Nothing seemed to go right since the minute I woke up.
"You're going to catch a cold," he says, walking over to me.
"So are you," I state he smiles, looking at the car.
"Need a lift? I'll call a tow truck when the service gets back,"
"Thank you," I say, smiling. I grab my stuff, and we rush over to his car he helps me inside, and I shiver.
"Let's get home," I nod he turns on the heating and drives out.
~~~~~~~~
I go to open the door, but Daniel beats me to it, holding his hand out, which I take as we run into the building. The rain had gotten worse since he picked me up.
"Jesus, it's bad out there," he says, looking at me. Then his eyes go wide, and he looks away. I frown. "Let's get you into something dry," he says, avoiding looking at me.
"Are you not going to get into something dry?"
"Yeah," He looks down at himself, "want to come round after you've changed?" He still hadn't looked at me.
"I'd love to,"
"Great," he smiles before turning to his apartment.
I open the door and get myself something warm to wear, making my my to the bathroom. I look in the mirror and realise why Daniel wasn't looking at me. My shirt was completely see-through.
I slip my clothes on and dry myself down, combing through my hair and putting it up into a bun. I then put my dry clothes on.
I make my way over to Daniels apartment and knock on he opens the door, looks at me, and smiles.
"Nice jumper," I look down, noticing the jumper I had chosen was from his clothing line.
"It's comfy," I say, walking in.
"It looks good on you," he walks to the kitchen. "I might have to take a photo for advertising,"
"Go right ahead. Want me to say it's my favourite brand?" I tease.
"It wouldn't kill you, would it? Grace Bailey wears Enchante by Daniel Ricciardo," I laugh at him, shaking my head. "Would you like a hot chocolate?"
"Yes, please," I watch as he goes to pour in the hot water "stop," he freezes.
"What's wrong?"
"You can't make hot chocolate like that," I say, taking the pan away from him.
"This is how I always make hot chocolate," he shrugs.
"I'm going to show you the way my dad taught me," I say, pulling out the milk that was in the fridge and pouring it into a new pan. I turn the stove on and wait for it to boil.
I could feel his eyes on me, so I turned around to face him he was dangerous close.
"I've never seen anyone do it this way," he says, looking down at me.
"This is the only way to do it. Plenty of people use this method," My eyes meet his if I moved our noses would be touching.
"It's boiled," he says. I nod, turning back around and letting out a small breath I didn't know I was holding. He hands me the glasses as I carefully pour in the hot milk, stirring it as I do so.
"There we go," I hand it to him. "The right way to make hot chocolate," he takes a sip and smiles.
"It does taste much better than mine," he speaks. "Come on, let's watch something," he leads me to his sofa.
I take a seat, placing my drink on the table in front of me, and he pulls out a blanket, resting it over me.
"Won't you be cold?"
"I'll be fine," he says, sitting down. I shake my head and move closer to him, causing him to look at me. I pull the blanket over both of us.
"It's big enough for the two of us," he bites his lips and nods, turning to the TV and turning a film on.
