by Lauren Asher
“Thank you.”
She walks away before the last word leaves my lips.
11
Maya
I upload the video I filmed in the garage where Noah made his cameo appearance. The comments section floods with positivity and excitement. People share how they’re happy to see Noah in a more relaxed setting, away from the press circuit and racetrack. Hard to miss the barrage of horny women asking to be Noah’s baby mama.
With every day I spend around Noah, I learn more about who he is once the cameras stop rolling. Before qualifiers, he likes to drink two espresso shots, which can result in him bouncing off the walls for a solid hour. Turns out he loves to chat while espresso runs through his veins. He also enjoys a session of yoga early in the morning before race days, a tradition he invited me to join during the last Prix. Safe to say yoga is not my workout of choice. Namaste in bed, thank you very much.
Noah even tugs on my ponytail now whenever he passes by me. At some point, lines blurred as we accepted a new level of comfortability with one another.
I learn details about him that chip away at my resolve, making it hard to resist him. He no longer is just a conceited guy who makes my eyes roll into the back of my head. Don’t get me wrong, he still acts smug as hell—that has not changed. But I like it. The more time I spend around him, the more he draws me in.
Imagine my surprise when my usual mantras won’t work anymore.
Not even I’m only up to good.
Because I want to be really bad.
Hooking up with Noah is the same as picking up two BOGO pints of Ben and Jerry’s. It sounds and tastes like a great idea at first. But you overestimate your self-control, and next thing you know, the whole thing is gone and you have a stomachache.
Basically, Noah is a heartache disguised in pretty packaging. He has the same allure as a pint of Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream.
And no sex on Earth is worth his kind of trouble.
See, Mom, I told you I would try to be more responsible! Look at me go.
The current standings of the F1 World Championship include Noah in first place, Liam in second, and Santi in third. My brother bounces back up the ranks after his second-place performance in Sochi.
Noah is a force to be reckoned with. His confidence is well-deserved because the guy is a badass behind the wheel with spot-on instincts and fast reflexes. My brother could learn a lot from him if they put aside their dislike for each other. Things have been tense since the Shanghai fender bender, their dynamic not entirely back to normal despite how two weeks have passed.
The best thing about this next Grand Prix is that we get to go back home to Spain. I can practically taste the sangria and paella, along with the shores of Barcelona, calling my name. Our parents will visit us and watch Santi race. We look forward to returning to our home country after being gone for two months because time flies by while on the road.
Hence why my resolve slips around Noah. We’ve played around each other for months, with me putting in extra effort to resist his sex appeal. Hard stuff when he wears his race suit.
Our driver drops us off at the F1 paddock area. My eyes widen with surprise as I take in all the different style buildings made out of motorhomes. A distinct setup compared to previous races.
No words pass my lips as we walk down the row of uniquely colored buildings. Each team has their own motorhome with dining halls, meeting rooms, and larger suites. The building allows for a place of relaxation during the hustle and bustle of the busy race week. We still have our hotel rooms to sleep in, but this is where Santi and Noah spend a lot of their downtime.
We stop next to Bandini’s motorhome. Red paint gleams under the sun, looking sleek and modern while still carrying the classic feel of the brand.
The motorhome has a luxurious feel when compared to pit suites from the flyaway races. People hang by the bar and restaurant on the bottom floor. Santi shows me the upper levels, including private suites and an outdoor patio where I see myself setting up my laptop to edit videos and content.
Bandini’s motorhome shows how much funding the brand has from sponsors, including Noah’s dad, who invests heavily in the team. Supposedly it looks good to have a previous race legend backing a brand.
I get tugged to the side before I can enter the suite.
“I need your help,” Sophie whispers despite us standing in an empty hall. Her wide green eyes and heavy breathing make me hesitant.
“With what? And why are you whispering?”
“I was invited on a date.” She chews on her cheek.
“That’s great! Do you need help picking out an outfit?” Her glare makes me stop clapping my hands together. “Or not?”
“Not. This is the worst thing. Liam bet if he placed on the podium in Russia, we would have to go on a date. I stupidly agreed because I was buzzed at a sponsor event. Plus, his previous track history in Sochi was awful so I didn’t think he would actually make it.”
My eyes widen. “Oh, you didn’t.” Bets never ever end well.
“Tragic, I know. So I’m going to go because I don’t rescind bets. But…he never specified the type of date.” Her smug grin sets off a few alarms.
“Am I missing out on different types?” Not exactly connecting the dots here.
“I’m going on a double date. And you’re coming with me.” Her small hands grip my arms.
“What! No way,” I sputter.
She’s crazy. The last thing I want to do is go on a double date with them. Talk about awkward. Sophie and Liam have enough sexual tension between the two of them to make me sweat. And I highly doubt Liam wants a double date to start with, seeing as he salivates when Sophie gets close.
“It’ll be us, Liam, and Jax. You remember him, right? British, hot, looks like he wants you to call him daddy in bed. It’s a win-win for us.” She gives me a sickly-sweet smile.
I burst out laughing. “Where do you even come up with this stuff?”
“I’m full of ideas. Will you do it for me? Your only friend here?” Sophie clasps her hands together and rocks back and forth on her feet. She plays the innocent card well. I grimace at how it works on me, a sucker for helping others no matter how bad the idea sounds.
“I’m game. But I’m only doing this for you. When is it?”
“Tonight! Before they get busy with the pre-racing stuff.” Sophie rubs her necklace. She throws this on me in the same day, how thoughtful.
Lovely. I’m bursting with excitement here.
“My brother is going to kill me,” I mutter.
“Oh, nonsense. He hooks up with a few ladies on the side anyway. He gets it.”
Who the hell says things like that? She should count herself lucky that I like her and she’s one of my only friends here.
“Ugh, come on. Get a filter. Gross.” I stick my tongue out at her. That’s absolutely the last thing I want to hear about, like ever. Right up there with hearing how my parents still have sex together.
“We better go pick out our outfits. We should look our best.” She grips my hand in hers, demonstrating a shocking amount of strength for a tiny person.
The whole thing may be a terrible idea, but at least I can look good while doing it.
We end up going shopping together around the streets of Barcelona. I don’t mind because I love feeling surrounded by my type of people for the first time in months. Hearing others speak Spanish and smelling fresh food from different restaurants makes me feel at home.
Sophie and I grab lunch together at one of the local spots. We chat while stuffing our faces with tapas, draining the contents of our sangria glasses. Home sweet home.
Sophie’s cheeks flush, alcohol getting to her head, as she admits a fascinating tidbit of information to me.
“One of the reasons I’m stuck going on this date isn’t only because of the bet.” She lets out a deep breath.
My eyebrows draw up. I keep quiet, not wanting to interrupt and make her lose her nerve. Call me curious to get
more information about her and Liam.
Sophie rattles on. “I created a Fuck It list for my time traveling with Bandini. Basically, it’s a mix of different things I googled, from normal bucket list stuff to sexy items.”
I choke on my drink. “Did sweet Sophie come up with a naughty bucket list? How bold of you.” I waggle my brows at her. She snorts, not holding back.
“I was tired of living the perfect life my dad wanted. So I decided to create a list before I came here.” She pulls out a small laminated square from her purse, unfolding the page so it becomes the size of a standard piece of paper. I have no clue how she did that.
I check out the different items, my eyebrows rising at a few of them.
“Then what’s the connection to Liam?”
“Well…remember the time we sang karaoke in Shanghai?”
I nod my head.
She swallows a gulp of sangria before continuing. “The list fell out of my bag and Liam grabbed it. He knows about it and added, ‘Go on a date with a bad boy.’ See?”
Black scrawl mars the bottom of the page, messing up her perfectly color-coded list of items. Dots connect in my head.
“Oh my God, he offered to help with these?”
Red flush crawls from Sophie’s neck to her cheeks.
“I only agreed to this one date. That’s it, no others because I don’t want his help. No matter how hard he tries. But I wanted to tell you because we’re friends and all, which means we share everything together.” Her honesty fills me with happiness because our friendship has reached a new level of trust.
My brother did, in fact, disagree with the date. Not a shocker.
He paces the floor of my room while I finish getting ready, his feet dragging across the carpet while he mumbles to himself. I snicker as he runs a hand down his face for the fourth time today.
“You’re going to give yourself wrinkles by thirty if you keep that up.” I point to his face with my mascara wand. He crosses his arms against his chest and scowls at me.
“Why Jax and Liam? Seriously, it couldn’t be anyone besides them?”
I give him a pointed look. Yeah, right. Imagine if I had said Noah asked me on a date.
“What about the nice guy you talked to at the press conference last week? Nerdy, has a combover, but can ask a decent question?”
If the combover isn’t enough to ward me away, the suspenders are a hard no.
I shake my head at him and exhale. “It’s a favor for Sophie. She begged me to join her because she didn’t want to go alone with Liam. So here I am. No need to freak out about it.”
He should congratulate me for sacrificing myself for the greater good and my friendship.
“Do you need to wear that?”
I look down at my short red dress and shrug. “Eh, it’s cute. I don’t want to be underdressed since we’re going to a nice restaurant.”
A growl of frustration leaves his lips. His overprotection may be sweet, but the charm wears off pretty quickly when I deal with it weekly.
“Don’t worry, big bro. I’m not even interested in Jax. I would rather be in the hotel room in my pajamas than going out right now.” I find minimal appeal in attending a fancy dinner, unlike my brother who lives for this life, with crowds of people feeding his energy. He loves the glam and glitz of the F1 community. But me? I prefer a cozy life of snuggling up with a good book or a new TV show.
I shudder at the thought of him hooking up with other girls. Damn, Sophie, why did you have to tell me about that?
“Fine, but try to be back here before midnight. I won’t be able to fall asleep thinking you’re out there with them.” He doesn’t have to tell me twice because I like midnight bedtimes.
The last thing my brother hears is my laugh as I exit the hotel room, the door thudding behind my back. My eyes meet Noah’s as he exits his room.
Seriously, he stays on our same floor?
These run-ins are becoming way too common with us. It concerns me since I feel like he’s wearing me down, little by little.
His gaze explores my body before he closes his eyes, his lips moving like he’s saying a silent prayer. His reaction tells me I get a gold star for the red dress choice.
I giggle at the sight of him being rattled, which is so unlike his usual calm and collected self.
“Going somewhere?” His blue eyes reflect two dark pools. My breaths shallow as his eyes rake down my body again. He follows me to the hotel’s elevator bank, meeting my strides, step for step.
I take a deep breath before I respond to him. But I realize a little too late how much of a terrible idea it is as his smell engulfs me and makes my brain foggy.
Clean, fresh, bone-jumping worthy.
Another deep inhale before I speak. “Yeah, I’m going to dinner since we have a free night and all.”
Wednesdays are relaxation days for crew and people like me who don’t have to do too much.
He presses the elevator button and turns toward me. “Few and far between with such a busy race schedule. Who are you going to dinner with?”
All right, back to asking about the date.
“Sophie, and uh, Liam…and Jax.” My execution is anything but smooth.
He remains silent as he checks out my outfit again, lingering on my legs before his eyes meet mine. I send a prayer for someone to get me out of here ASAP. The elevator takes forever, the lit-up button taunting me as I will it to come quicker.
“Hmm, I didn’t get an invite.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and scrolls through it, searching for an invite that never happened. I use the opportunity to check him out. Powerful forearms taunt me, on full display because of his rolled-up button-down shirt, along with jeans that hug his tight ass and muscular legs. His dark hair is slicked back, not yet disturbed by his fingers. My teeth bite down on my bottom lip to suppress a groan.
His lips turn down as he locks his phone, making me feel both satisfied and sad for him. Is it possible to have such a mix? Noah screws up everything inside of me, including my common sense.
I shrug at his response, playing it off even though my heart races in my chest. “Maybe they thought you were busy. We’ll be sure to invite you next time.”
We won’t because there can’t be a next time.
The doors open. Thank the Lord. We both enter at the same time, brushing against each other. My body responds to the physical contact, desperately wanting more, but my brain makes a wise decision to situate myself in the opposite corner of the elevator.
“Yeah, maybe. Where are you having dinner then?” He runs a hand through his hair, now messing it up like I knew he would. I smirk at his signature style.
“I think it’s called Bouquet. An expensive place I assume based on the outfits Sophie picked out.” I bring his attention back to me. Crap.
He coughs. “Hmm.” One word that has a heavy weight to it, stifling us in this stuffy box.
He remains silent for the rest of the descent. Air charges as movie scenes of couples hooking up in elevators flash through my mind. My body presses up against the side of the cart, my hands gripping onto the cool handlebar as I rid the dirty thoughts from my head. Our closeness and the delicious fumes of his cologne wreak havoc on my body.
He glances over at me one more time before the doors open up to the lobby and I dart out. I peek over my shoulder and give him a quick wave, my spine tingling at his devilish smile, feeling his eyes on me as I power-walk to the group. The glint in his eye and the smile on his face promise more.
That’s a problem for future me.
Damn, I coined my new mantra.
We’re two drinks into the night. And dare I say, the date is turning out to be a fun time.
Liam whispers a few sweet nothings into Sophie’s ear. Every time he says something to her, she takes a chug of wine like a messed-up drinking game between the two of them.
Jax comes across as a nice guy. A bit withdrawn, but funny and edgy. Sophie’s daddy comment pops up in my head because I me
an, come on, the guy is sexy. But honestly, does she think he does that? She wouldn’t say something that ridiculous if there wasn’t a little bit of truth in it.
Jax has curly hair he inherited from a combination of his “mum” and dad, who is one of the best black boxers from the United Kingdom. He gets his hazel eyes, sharp cheekbones, and pouty lips from his Swedish side. A total knockout with muscles and brains to match. I ask him about his family, but he closes himself off, switching the subject back to me.
Jax can check off most people’s hot-guy boxes, but I can’t figure out what doesn’t work for me. Maybe I don’t like tattoos? He tells me they cover his body, black ink peeking out from the collar of his button-down shirt. Intricate designs cover his knuckles and right hand. I ask about a couple of them, but there are too many to get into.
When he grabs my hand across the table, my body doesn’t respond to it; it’s the equivalent of holding a stranger’s hand. I frown at the lack of flutters in my stomach or racing heartbeat. By the time we order our entrees, I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t feel a sexual connection, which is fine because it puts less pressure on me. Friendship sounds like a good idea.
“Oh, hi, guys. I heard you were out here tonight. I think my invite got lost in the mail.”
My stomach flips at the sound of Noah’s voice. I suppress the temptation to rub my eyes as though he’d disappear from my vision.
Heat rushes up my chest and neck. Liam and Jax look confused, and a surge of guilt rushes through me. Sophie kicks me under the table and I kick her back. I have no words to explain what is happening now, despite the questionable look she sends me.
Liam and Jax greet him reluctantly. Sophie and I get up from the table to give him quick hugs, except Noah holds on to me a second longer than necessary, a clear fuck-you to Jax. I choose to ignore him as I struggle to process everything.
What the hell. Why is he even here?
“So what gives? It’s unlike both of you to not invite me somewhere.”