by Lauren Asher
I trip over my feet while rushing to my car. I’m a hot, crappy mess and fuck if it isn’t humbling. Embarrassed doesn’t begin to describe how I feel. Bandini mechanics look down at me, unsure how to help, as I clamber into my car. Sweat clings to my chest before the engine starts up, a shitty omen for my fuck-tastic day.
The beginning of my qualifier goes okay as my car takes down the first straightaway. That is until I make it past my first turn. Bile creeps up my throat during most of the turns after, the curves of the track not faring well with the alcohol seeping from my pores. I spend all my mental energy on not blowing chunks inside my helmet because I’d never live that down.
My nasty hangover doesn’t pair nicely with my car going two hundred miles an hour round and round the track. The qualifier performance is sloppy and unprofessional. The usual hum of the engine fills me with dread, guilt eating away at me as I think about Maya and how she might feel if she heard about my night.
Sweat trickles down my back, soaking the material of my fireproof gear as I careen across the track. Fans watch the worst display of my entire racing career.
I rush out of my car once the qualifier finishes. My body revolts against me as I throw up twice near a patch of grass close to the pit area, the acidic taste making me nauseous all over again. All of this happens while a local camera crew films me. Somehow, I find enough self-control to not flip them off, instead choosing to give a thumbs up to the camera while I hunch over.
My car places fourteenth for the race. Fucking fourteenth. I haven’t had such an embarrassing placement since I started out in F1, and I don’t know if I’ll live this one down.
The only small blessing from today is how I don’t have to attend the press conference meant exclusively for the top three racers. I guess sucking comes with benefits.
Since Santi has the pole position, he’ll be distracted. I need to find Maya and apologize for everything. Like for taking her out on a date and fucking another girl in the same day. Even if she’s disinterested in hooking up with me, it’s wrong.
I spot Sophie and Maya talking with Liam and Jax on the main road near all the hospitality suites. A cold feeling creeps its way up my spine at the sight of Jax pulling her in for a hug. It shouldn’t upset me but shit it stings to see her wrapping her arms around him and laughing, unaware of how he got a blowjob at the table last night from a random chick.
I don’t have a right to feel jealous since I can’t give her what she wants. But I can’t control it; my fists clench at the sight of them, envy whirling inside of me like toxic air.
Maya’s eyes catch mine. The smile she had before slips from her face, and it pisses me off how I’ve turned her mood sour in two seconds flat.
I stroll up to the guys, keeping it casual even though I barely have it together inside.
“Shit luck today, bro.” Liam doesn’t look the least bit phased from last night. Was I the only one who got seriously fucked up? Come to think of it, he was sober as hell. I don’t even think he blinked at any other girls who came onto us. Shit.
“Never going out the night before a qualifier again. That was a terrible idea, man.” Jax pats my shoulder as he throws me under the bus.
Fuck you very much, Jax.
“You guys look like you had quite the night. Ballsy move before a qualifier.” Sophie’s narrowed eyes glare into mine.
“Mm, that’s why my brother is the best. He puts the team first.” Maya’s polite smile doesn’t reach her flat eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, we get it already. You adore Santiago. At least pretend you want us to do well too.” Liam knocks Maya’s hat off her head and offers her a shrug. She laughs at him. I want to record the sound for the bad days, like today, because I’m the biggest idiot.
“We better get going. Girls’ day and all.” Sophie links her arm in Maya’s. They head off after saying their goodbyes with Maya ignoring me. It fucking sucks.
“Bro, you got smashed last night. You wouldn’t shut up about her.” Liam nods his head in the direction Maya left in.
Jax shakes his head. “It was a sad sight until you took that girl home. You even called her Maya once, but she shrugged it off. What was her name? Beatrice?”
Thank you, Jax, for bringing up the last thing I want to think about. I flip him off.
“She was hot. You always get the good ladies.” Liam’s arms cross against his chest.
“I’m surprised she even went home with him. He kept talking about Maya rejecting him, how she doesn’t want a playboy like him.” Jax chuckles to himself.
“Okay, guys, I get it. It was a pathetic night. Can we not bring it up anymore? Like ever.” My clipped voice matches my declining patience.
“All right. No need to get pissy at us.” Liam’s last words end that conversation.
I take off in the direction of the Bandini motorhome because I have another round of apologies to get out to Sophie’s dad and the pit crew.
Unlike the last time Maya avoided me, we both keep our distance this time. Me because of shame. Her probably because I gross her out, not that I blame her at all.
The rest of Saturday is uneventful, which fills me with relief. I recover from my awful hangover, trying to overhydrate because race-day conditions are hot and alcohol dehydrates like no other. No doubt I’ll sweat out three pounds of body weight at least.
On race day, I eavesdrop on Santiago and Maya’s conversation, desperate to feel close to her. She keeps her voice low and inaudible. To avoid punching a wall out of frustration, I exit my suite to go to the pit area.
I run through some engine checks and attend a pre-race briefing. Busying myself keeps me from doing something stupid, like finding Maya and giving into her demands while begging for forgiveness. After wrapping up with the top engineers, I head back toward the garage.
I silently curse at Maya sitting next to the computer bay. She wears one of the engineer’s headsets so she can listen in on Santi’s team radio. A churning feeling of jealousy swirls in the pit of my stomach. Being jealous of her brother…a new low.
A lot of contradictory feelings mix inside of my head. Maya rejects me because she wants more than I can give her, but I don’t even know how to try to give her what she wants.
Her vlog camera swings around in full force, filming the busy race-day activities.
I find it difficult to ignore her voice while I discuss the logistics of the car and any last-minute tune-ups. She tours the place and introduces members of the team, a sweet gesture to show off the men and women who are essential to Bandini. Her voice raves about how the crew keeps everything up and running, even introducing them by name, proof of her connection to the team. She has this way of charming people. Unlike me, who has a way of fucking up with people.
I try to hide my shock when she walks up to my car.
“Here we have Slade’s team.”
I see we are back to last names now.
She does a spin to get everyone in the camera shot. “They’re busy doing last-minute checks on his car. He has a big task of catching up to Santiago, Liam, and Jax since he starts in P14 today. It’s his worst start since he began racing in F1. Better luck next time.”
Thanks, Maya. I take it because I deserve it and more.
I wave at the camera as she pans over my car. Her fruity shampoo hits my senses, instantly bringing me back to the other night. Her lips on mine, the sounds she made when I touched her, when I grinded into her. My dick twitches in my race suit. Great.
She moves on to interview one of the head engineers. He subtly checks out Maya’s chest in between questions, and it takes everything in me not to push him away.
Concentrate on your car. You’re about to go race and you don’t have time to worry about her.
I decide to ignore Maya for the rest of the prep. No need for any more distractions, least of all from her since she decided she doesn’t want anything casual. She rejected me. Her loss.
I lose the race big time. But I worked my ass off to get out of
fourteenth position, and considering where I started, I’m happy with placing eighth. Santi and I even get points for the Constructors.
I head to my suite, not wanting to check out the podium celebrations today despite being glad for Jax and Liam. Santiago, too, I guess. But it was a good day for McCoy, which means a bad one for Bandini.
Maya sits out on the empty balcony of the hospitality area, lying across a couch, cellphone in hand. I like to head up here when I have a bad day, but it looks like she beat me to it.
“Was she worth it?” She baits me, not glancing up from her cellphone screen. My irritability grows with every second she refuses to look at me.
“Who?” I play stupid because I don’t want to deal with this shit anymore. We aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend.
“The floozie from last night.”
My lips twitch up at her word choice. “Oh, her.” That gets her to look up at me. I don’t like her stormy gaze, the way she comes off indifferent to a situation that bothers the fuck out of her. I’d rather have her mad at me than feel nothing at all.
I meant it when I said I’m a selfish bastard.
“Yup.” Her lips pop on the last letter.
“She was a decent lay.” I shrug, coming off uncaring, even though my throat feels like I swallowed glass. It feels wrong to lie like this, my words hurting her because I take my anger on myself out on her.
“Mm. Wonder how much alcohol you had to drink to wipe the taste of me from your mouth. Doubt the girl minded, though. Desperation always trumps common sense.”
Fuck. She has me there. I’m stunned stupid, unable to get any words out.
“They’ll never be as good as what we could have. But this is why people like you never have happily-ever-afters. You’re so jaded, you can’t see the best things until it’s too late.”
She gets up, not bothering to give me one last look as she leaves the balcony.
My stomach drops at not being worth a backward glance.
21
Maya
I avoid everything Noah-related for weeks. Anytime I find him in the Bandini suites, I walk the other way. Things sit heavy between us. And not in the “hot and heavy” kind of way, much more like the “my heart hurts whenever I see him” kind of way.
How I feel about him is messy. It doesn’t fit nicely into checked boxes or a pros and cons list. I struggle to understand my conflicting emotions, which ends up pissing me off more. Part of me wishes he could commit to trying a real relationship while another part of me thinks he’s not even worth the trouble.
He should have waited at least a day before hooking up with someone else. It’s basically common courtesy.
How do you fuck another woman right after you go on a date with someone else? It’s cold and disgusting. I honestly didn’t expect that from him.
Every time I run into Noah, I feign indifference, choosing to ignore the way my heart beats faster around him. Or how my body heats when his eyes roam over me, or the hint of sadness that crosses his face when I ignore him.
I thrust myself into taking my vlog to the next level. Seven hundred thousand subscribers tune in to my vlogs already, and the ads on my videos turn a nice profit. Sponsors reach out to partner with me, something I never thought was possible. The vlog has surpassed everything I’d ever dreamed of. Sophie and I visit different places in every city we travel to, making the most of my time with Bandini while the explorations conveniently keep me away from Noah.
The month-long summer break between the first and second half of the season couldn’t have come at a better time. I try to lie to myself and say I don’t miss Noah over the vacation. But I do. I check out his social media accounts daily, except he keeps quiet, not posting anything but a couple pictures of the Italian coast. Even gossip accounts have nothing to report on him. He’s taken a break from everything. And maybe it’s a good thing, seeing as his previous indiscretions finally cycled out of the media.
I spend the vacation with my family, including Santi. Besides the temporary bouts of missing Noah, I have a good time.
Sophie comes to Spain to visit us during the last week of the break. My parents welcome her like a second daughter, sharing how grateful they are for me to have someone to spend time with besides Santi.
Sophie and I come up with the best plan. A talent of hers.
“Repeat the plan back to me. I want to make sure you’re convinced.” Sophie paints her nails in my bedroom. Tomorrow, we both fly together to the next race because she wants to prep me before seeing Noah at the Belgian Grand Prix.
I jokingly roll my eyes even though I appreciate her friendship and dedication to making sure I keep out of trouble.
“All right. Since I’m now a mature woman who knows better, I’m going to be civil and nice. I don’t need to play games with him. We are two adults who can get along for the sake of the team.”
Sophie smiles up at the quote she makes me repeat every time I bring up Noah. “And…” She waves her hand expectantly.
“I will not give in.”
“In to what exactly? I need to hear you say it.”
Ugh, she actually wants me to repeat it.
“I will not fall for his rough yet sweet personality, rock-hard abs, kissable lips, or fuckable body.” My new go-to chant.
Her green eyes sparkle. “Atta girl. I’m so proud. Look how quickly you grew in a month. Vacation glow looks good on you.” She pinches my cheeks.
“Why does this feel like it’s going to be a disaster?”
“Stop your catastrophizing. You’re going to give yourself a migraine. What’s the goal for the second half of the season? Maybe we need to run through it one more time.”
She’s so full of it. But I give in because she flashes me two dimples.
“Grow my vlog, find a nice man to go on a couple of dates with, and spend time with my best friend.”
Sophie claps her hands like I’m a child saying my first words. The display comes off dramatic and silly, but it fits her.
“Yes, girl. Cheers to that!” We clink our glasses and sip our wine.
The cold liquid soothes my throat. “Where does one find nice men in F1 anyway? I’m curious.”
“Leave that up to me. I’m your fairy godmother but instead of waving a magic wand, I use a magic dildo. Works like a charm. It’s guaranteed to land you the best dick you’ve ever had.”
Wine nearly streams out of my nose.
Not sure what I volunteered myself for, but I can’t help feeling worried.
22
Noah
I regret how I went about everything in Baku, including how my anger got the best of me after the race, making stupid statements to Maya. I messed up big time with her. But I want to fix it and make things right.
I spend a good portion of the break working out kinks in my car and strategizing with the team for the second half of the Championship season.
But I also spend time going to therapy.
Yup. Let that sink in for a second. Me in therapy.
I sit in my psychologist’s office, attending one of my two weekly sessions. One session per week wouldn’t cut it because I need to work through a ton of shit about my parents, relationships, and my issues with commitment. And I don’t have a lot of time before the next race.
The whole process has been a lot to take in. Some days I leave sessions pissed off while other times I leave sad because of how fucked up my parents are and the damage they’ve caused. Therapy is an emotional struggle that drains me worse than driving one-hundred laps around a Prix track.
“What holds you back from wanting a relationship?” My therapist’s brown eyes gaze at me from across the room as he sits casually in his beige chair. I sit on a leather couch, switching between staring up at the ceiling and meeting his gaze.
“I’m not sure. It’s kind of a mixture of different things. I’ve never even tried to have a real girlfriend before.”
“Walk me through the combination of reasons.” His hands clasp tog
ether across his knee. He looks put together with his gray hair combed over and his pressed suit.
“I don’t even know what a good relationship looks like. My parents didn’t love each other. I was a credit line at Barney’s for my mom, an endless tie to my dad’s bank account. So I’m not sure what real love even looks or feels like. That’s a scary thought in itself.” How can I recognize something I have no clue about?
“If you could describe love to me, what would you say?” His questions never let me off easy. No, I consider them shit-stirring instead of open-ended.
“Hmm.” I rub the back of my neck. “I think love is about happiness and sacrifice. Compromising instead of arguing. Having someone who is always there for you even when you don’t deserve it. Loving someone means you want to spend the rest of your life with them, on the good days and the bad days and everything in between.”
He looks proud of what I said, nodding along with me and hanging on each word. A small ounce of pride rushes through me at my thoughtful answer.
“Those are all great ideas of love. And what would be the reasons holding you back from trying with someone? Let’s use Maya as an example since you bring her up during our sessions.”
I sit and think about his question for a full minute. He doesn’t push me when I stay quiet, instead preferring to wait it out, putting less pressure on me to fill the silence.
“I think I’m afraid.” Words leave my lips in a whisper. I don’t like admitting fear about anything when I drive cars faster than any other man in the world for fuck’s sake.
“Fear is not always a weakness. It’s what you do with the fear that shows your true strength. What exactly are you afraid of?” This man and his board of inspirational quotes.
“Not giving it my best and failing. Disappointing her and not being able to be there when she needs me. Breaking her heart and mine in the process. The thought of giving someone power over me…” I look down at my hands. Rough fingertips press together in a fidgeting motion that reminds me of Maya. Ever since Baku, thinking about her makes my chest constrict weirdly like it recognizes how much of a dumbass I am.