by Lauren Asher
“I thought you were avoiding me because I haven’t seen you at any of the events this week.”
I think out my reply carefully. Well, as carefully as alcohol allows me to.
“Where did you learn to dance salsa?” Suave change of subject if I do say so myself.
His deep laugh makes me feel all warm inside.
“I lived in Europe long enough to pick up on it.” He sways us to the music.
A kernel of jealousy blossoms at the idea of Noah dancing with other girls.
“Hmm. Cool.” I feign indifference, but I can’t tell if I succeeded.
Noah turns me, pulling my back to his front. My ass presses against his crotch as his hand runs down my arm.
“Uh, we learned two different types of salsa. They didn’t teach me this in class.”
The rumble of his chest is the only response I get.
I look around, curious if anyone else sees this. My body molds into his. A crowd of people dances to the music, oblivious of Noah’s advances as his stiff cock presses against my ass cheeks. I press into him, unintentionally of course.
Sign me up for the next confession slot.
Turns out Noah seems into this back and forth, or lack thereof. He moves us along to the music. One of his hands presses on my hip, holding me flushed against him while his other hand pushes my hair away from my neck.
“Did you wear that color dress for me?” His husky voice makes my head swim. How can he tell what color my dress is when it’s dark outside?
“It’s navy. What do you mean?” Okay, it isn’t. But boys suck at knowing anything beyond basic colors.
“Hmm, weird. On your Insta story it looked like the same color as my eyes. But maybe I’m wrong, just seeing things.”
“That’s often a sign of narcissism. You should get yourself checked out when you have a chance. I don’t do everything to appease you.” Unfiltered words flow from my mouth.
He shuts me up by pushing his rigid length into me. I groan at the feeling, my body heating up at his boldness.
“Tell me you’re not affected by this connection between us.” His husky whisper sends a shiver down my spine. He trails a finger down the length of my throat to my collarbone, stopping right above my cleavage.
No way I will admit anything to him.
“Not sure what you’re talking about. Do you try this with all your floozies?” Who the hell says floozies anymore? Alcohol makes me stupid. So, so stupid.
“I think you know.” His hands grip me possessively as our hips move to the music. I withhold a moan as my head rolls back into his chest, his dick pressing into my ass, a hint at the size of him.
He blows hot air into the shell of my ear, causing my core to pulse with need. My body burns wherever he touches, his fingers skimming down the smooth material of my dress. A delicate layer protecting my body from his touch.
“You drive me crazy. I keep thinking about fucking you, wondering how you sound when you explode in ecstasy. The moans you’ll make while you greedily take my cock. Is it breathy? Loud?”
My stomach flutters at the sensation of his teeth grazing my ear lobe. I tilt my head to the side, giving him better access to my neck, his lips trailing kisses down the curve of it. His touch makes me pant. My resolve slips, begging me to give into him.
Take me home, I want to say. But I don’t, letting my body say the words my mouth can’t get out.
It’s a problem for future me.
What’s one night with him? We’re adults who can keep a secret.
Noah senses my submission. His lips press against the hollow of my throat, his tongue darting out to taste me, making my body shudder as he sucks on the sensitive skin.
Someone grabs my hand and tugs me away, cold air hitting my skin in Noah’s absence. He growls at the intrusion.
“Maya, just the girl I’ve been looking for. Your brother is searching for you. You remember him, right? Noah’s teammate.” Sophie emphasizes her words. How did she even find us in this crowd, a cluster of bodies dancing together?
I shake away the lust-induced cloud. Music thumping in the background washes over me, reminding me of where we are. Dance lights illuminate my shoes. If I click them together, can I go home?
“I better get going. Sister duties and all. Thanks for the dance,” my voice rasps.
Whatever we did is nothing like any dance I’ve experienced in my life. My eyes meet Noah’s intense ones, a swirl of lust and frustration evident even in the dark.
“This isn’t over.” His husky voice hints at a promise.
“It is for now, Romeo. Let’s go, Juliet.” Sophie pulls me away, proving herself to be the best cockblocker.
She keeps her cool until we find an empty corner.
“Uh, where’s my brother?”
“Who the heck knows. I needed an excuse to get you out of there before you and Noah screwed each other on the dance floor. What happened to you staying away from him? I was practically fanning myself while watching the two of you.” She demonstrates with her hands.
My lips tip up in a smile. “I didn’t peg you for a voyeur.”
“You’re not using your shitty evasion techniques on me. I see through them a mile away; don’t insult my talents. Are you trying to get with him or avoid him? You need to decide.” She taps her sneaker on the ground and crosses her arms. A ridiculous look only Sophie can pull off, her fluffy dress and white sneakers shining in the dark.
“I don’t really know.” I shrug because I genuinely don’t know what to make of this thing between Noah and me. An out-of-control magnetism I can’t describe.
“You guys were a modern-day Dirty Dancing scene. I don’t buy it. What are you going to do about this thing between you both?”
“Uh, ‘thing’ is a bit of a stretch. That’s the closest we’ve ever gotten to each other. Attraction, yes. Thing, no.” I shake my head from side to side.
Her elevated eyebrow fails to reassure me. “You’re into your brother’s teammate. And rival I might add.”
“No,” I stutter. My weight shifts from foot to foot. “I’m sexually attracted to him. Not like into him as a person because I barely know him.”
“Right.” She draws the word out. “We’ll have to keep you away from him.”
“We?” My turn to be confused.
“Liam and I. Duh. That’s what friends do.”
Never have I been so thankful for a friend. Sophie and I stumble out of the party hand in hand, leaving behind sucky decisions and bad boys.
16
Noah
I’m into Maya. Like really into her. She scrolls through her phone, unaware of her surroundings, or of me checking her out.
I want to hash it out, test the physical connection to its maximum. See how explosive the sex is. Fuck her against every hard surface in my apartment and show her a good time. The idea of exclusive fuck buddies for the rest of the Championship can be on the table if our sex proves to be as good as I imagine. Never had a permanent fuck buddy before, but I think we can be that great together.
Liam jerks me out of my daydream. He nudges my side and looks toward the cameras and reporters in front of us.
“I wasn’t paying attention to the question. Can you repeat it?” I offer a sly grin.
The group of reporters snickers at my honesty. Maya glances at me with lit-up eyes as her chest shakes from withheld laughter.
“What strategies have you taken to defend your undefeated Monaco Prix title?” The reporter stammers out his question again.
“Uh, well I usually get in the car and practice. Try to go my fastest. You know, the basics.” I play the jokester today. Stifled laughs carry through the crowd while a couple cameras click, taking photos and videos.
Everyone knows I hate questions like these. This reporter is probably new and unaware of my preference. Viewers eat this up, loving the way I act and how I present myself. They’re fans of mine for a reason.
Reporters drone on. Not wanting to make myself look
like a total idiot before a race, I make sure to pay attention to them this time. Sponsors may assume I partied too hard in Monaco. I even listen when they ask Santi how he feels about his second-place qualifier.
“Pretty good. It’s nice when my hard work pays off. Last year I retired early from Monaco after an engine failure so I’m excited to get back out there and compete against people I’ve looked up to for years.”
I nod, impressed with his answer. It seems like he’s been working on his PR skills.
Once the press conference ends, I stroll off the stage and head straight to Maya. “Funny, I never saw you again after the fashion show. Where did you disappear to?” Both my dick and I are curious where she and Sophie ran off to.
She keeps scrolling through her phone. I push one finger down on it, revealing the screen. She’s ignoring me for Instagram?
I press the auto-lock button on the side of her phone. The dark screen taunts her to look up at me, and she plays right into my hand.
I don’t like how her brown eyes intensely stare into mine, guarded and unexpressive.
“I spent time with my brother and Sophie before calling it an early night.” Her eyes dart to the side while answering.
“Funny thing because I ran into your brother five minutes after you left. He was surprised when I asked if he was able to get in contact with you. He tried to call you, but you didn’t pick up. We ended up spending the rest of the night talking with sponsors.” I shrug, trying to come off unfazed. In reality, it ticks me off how Sophie dragged Maya away. How messed up. Sadly, I had to whack off in the bathroom after Maya left to relieve the raging hard-on I had. Embarrassing as fuck. Sophie’s the worst cockblocker ever, taking Maya away right when she gave in to me.
The pink shade of her cheeks deepens, revealing enough to me.
“Would you look at the two of you, all cozy and shit. What secrets are you discussing? How to beat me tomorrow?”
I roll my eyes at Liam’s interruption before I run a hand down my face. Can Maya and I not get a second alone?
“I’m spying for my brother. My loyalty is always to him.” Maya taps her Bandini hat. The brim shows an embroidered seven on it. What would it be like if she wore my number twenty-eight? I envision her in a shirt with my name on it instead of Santiago’s.
She screws me all up inside, making me want ridiculous things.
“I better get going anyway because Santi and I have a lunch to go to. Good luck tomorrow, Liam. See you later, Noah.” She scurries away.
“Bro, you don’t want to tap that. She’s your teammate’s sister. Not worth it.”
Liam telling me to not hook up with someone is unheard of, the equivalent of him telling me to throw a race. It just isn’t done.
“Seeing as you tap anything with two legs and fake boobs, why are you giving me advice right now?” I struggle to cover up my annoyance. That came out rough, even for my standards.
Liam puts both palms in the air. “Woah, no need to take it out on me. Or make it personal for that matter. If you need to fuck someone, pick a girl up at one of the events. They’re easy ass.”
Therein lies the problem. I have no interest in hooking up with a random chick, and I haven’t for a while. When was the last time I slept with someone casually like that?
Liam mistakes my silence for acceptance. “Listen, bro. A word of advice—even though you’re being a dick right now. People like Maya don’t casually hook up with people like us. She’s the type to get feelings and end up wanting more.” Liam shudders dramatically.
“What’s wrong with feelings?”
He looks at me like I’ve grown two heads. Granted, I guess I usually don’t care for women’s feelings.
“They develop into more. Then it becomes proposals, sacrifices, babies crying. The works. One day you wake up and wonder where time went. You’ll be forty years old, your wife will barely fuck you anymore, and next thing you know, you’re masturbating to porn every day to get by.”
I still jack off now. Not exactly a trade-off.
Liam comes off uncharacteristically bitter, which I find weird because his parents have a perfect marriage. I mean, I’m already thirty. Not like I want to be alone for the rest of my life, only while I compete in racing and live on the road.
“Not sure how hooking up with Maya turned into a ten-year life plan. But thanks for your concern.” I pat him on the shoulder while rolling my eyes.
“I want to warn you. She’s one of those girls that’ll bring you to your knees. I’m telling you. You’ll be turning in your man card and wondering where you went wrong. Swapping out new girls for the same chick. Same pussy for the rest of your life.”
His vision of marriage is kind of dark, unlike his usually optimistic self. Don’t know what crawled up his ass today. I leave him behind, my mood tainted by his words.
The day of the Monaco race, I search around for Maya because I don’t see or hear from her. I end up in the Bandini bar area in a last-ditch effort to find her. Sophie sips espresso at one of the tables, casually flipping through a magazine, not a care in the world.
“Have you seen Maya?” I keep my voice low as I plant my butt in the chair across from her.
She sips her drink. “Like recently?”
Why is she playing dumb? “Yes. Within the last few hours?” It takes effort to keep my teeth from grinding. My dentist won’t be happy with me next time he sees me.
She finds my reaction funny, her eyes betraying her amusement. “Why do you want to know?”
“Answer the damn question. Not that hard,” I blurt out.
Her eyes roll at my rough tone. I’ve visited her house during the holidays, so we’ve known each other casually for years. She reminds me of an annoying third cousin because we’re not close enough to be considered siblings.
“No need to get your race suit in a twist. She decided to watch like a normal bystander today, wanting to film the experience for her vlog.”
Doesn’t Maya know that’s not a good idea? People will recognize her; drunks will try to grope her. I don’t like the thought of her being out there by herself.
“Why aren’t you out there with her?” AKA why are you sitting here drinking coffee while your friend is out by herself in a crazy crowd?
“I was going to hang out in the pit with my dad. This is one of the biggest races of the year, so I’m sure it’ll be crazy down there.”
I pull out my phone before she finishes her sentence. She watches as I tap around on the screen.
I break the silence after a few minutes. “What’s your number?”
“Seriously, you try to hit on me after you ask where my friend is? You were dry-humping her the other day.”
My jaw clenches. “No. You’re skipping out on the pit today. Your dad sent me a ticket, beyond enthused that you want to see the race like a true fan.”
I smirk at her wide eyes while she tells me her number. She doesn’t speak another word, thank God. Maya can avoid me all she wants, but it doesn’t mean she has to do it alone. I’ll get my way eventually. These types of games don’t phase me because I have enough stamina to outdo her.
My lips twitch as I think up a plan to get her alone after the race. She can evade me all she wants, but it doesn’t mean I need to. Two can play this game.
17
Maya
I hear Sophie before I see her. She yells at a guy to stop accosting her in the stands. Her vocab choices are something else, a testament to reading one too many classic novels.
She makes her way toward the seat next to mine and settles down. We look the same, twinning in Bandini polos and ear protection gear.
“What are you doing here? I thought you wanted to spend time in the pit.”
Nearby fans give us weird looks. I tug my hat lower on my face and pull down my sound-reducing earmuffs to hear her better.
She shrugs, picking up that trick from me. I nudge her in the ribs.
“Ouch. Fine. No need to get physical. Noah cornered me
earlier asking where you were.” She rubs her rib.
Did I hear her right? “And you ended up here how?”
“Noah forced me to, I guess so you’re not alone.”
It shocks me that he even cares.
“Did he say anything else?” I fiddle with the settings on my camera.
“He said, and I quote—” her voice drops lower to imitate Noah’s—“I didn’t know she was a fan of hiding. Let her know when I find her, she won’t like it. I was the champ at hide-and-seek growing up.”
“What? Seriously?” My voice screeches.
“No! That’s a terrible pick-up line. He’s better than that. I’m messing with you.” Her laugh fills the silence. She’s giving me a severe case of emotional whiplash today. “But there was some observable tension. I may conclude that he likes when you hang out on race days?”
“I didn’t think he cared if I was around on Sundays.”
Her eyes shine. “Hmm. I don’t know about that. Noah seemed agitated that you weren’t around earlier. At least enough to ask me about it.”
Announcers cut off our conversation, letting the crowd know the race will begin momentarily.
The crowd quiets down as red lights flash above the grid. Everyone holds their breath for the start of the race, electric energy charging the stands as race car engines rev. My heart beats along with the flashing signals above the grid. The moment the lights change, cars take off down the track toward the first turn. The Monaco Prix circuit can be unforgiving, especially if a driver makes an error, like under- or overestimating a speed during a curve.
Noah keeps his lead around the first bend, with my brother not far behind. Santiago’s car zooms past one of the straightaways before turning another tight corner. Liam and Jax compete against each other for the third position.
Monaco’s track seems unlike any other in the Prix schedule. Constricted roads keep cars compacted, not allowing much room for mistakes. Jax and Liam avoid a disastrous collision with each other at one of the turns. Pieces of metal fly as the cars graze one another, the sound of clanging metal against the ground ringing across the Prix. The crowd gasps as Jax’s car careens toward the side. He uses his momentum to get back on the track, narrowly avoiding a catastrophic crash.