by Lauren Asher
“Those are all reasons anyone would be afraid and worried about trying. You’re not alone in thinking that. A lot of people share similar reservations when they start a relationship because loving someone makes you vulnerable.”
I didn’t know that.
“How would you feel if Maya dated another person who is willing to love her like you described earlier?”
I clench my hands. The thought of her dating, kissing, or fucking another guy makes me sick. I don’t deserve her, but screw anyone else who tries.
“I wouldn’t like it one fucking bit.”
“And why is that?” He doesn’t flinch at my cursing, further evidence of why I like this man.
“Because I’ll be wishing it was me who could do those things with her.”
My admission sits with us like a third person. Minutes pass by as I devise a plan, the sound of the clock ticking to the rhythm of my bouncing leg.
“I think I have an idea for what I need to do. But I want to run it by you.”
My therapist smiles at me. He helps me build confidence, listening to my ideas while offering insight and opposing viewpoints. I’m fucking done sitting on the sidelines thinking about my mistakes, because I’m the type to be on the front of the grid with a pole-position start.
Time to get my trophy.
23
Maya
“Listen, the last date was bad, but this one will be better. I pinky promise. We can ditch together if it goes terrible.” Sophie holds my hand before linking our pinkies together, forcing a promise on me before I agree.
I groan. Another date sounds like a terrible idea. “The last one included a guy bringing out photos of his family and ex-wife. He even told me how they got married and divorced, tearing up as the waiter brought out our dessert. I’ll never look at tiramisu the same way again.”
“Okay, I get it. That wasn’t my best work. I’m still fixing the kinks in my magic wand dildo thing. But I picked two good ones this time.” Her green eyes fill with hope.
“That sounds so wrong. Who are the new guys?”
Since we both can suffer together, I give in to the plan. I don’t want to risk it with another disastrous date because a woman can only take so many photo albums.
“They’re two top engineers for McCoy. I met one of them at a press conference my dad was talking in. They’re sweet, I swear. Cross my heart.” She drags her index finger in an X motion.
I nod along, agreeing to the plan because of Sophie’s good intentions.
“Yay. You won’t regret it! They even got us reservations at the nicest restaurant in Milan. Because nothing says a good date like pasta!” She claps her hands and drags us to my hotel room to pick our outfits. For someone who loves sneakers and T-shirts, she sure enjoys getting dressed up.
Here we are on a date the night before a qualifier round, sitting across from two good-looking guys. Sophie shoots me a grin when they look at their menus.
I agreed to this date for her because she’s seemed to struggle with Liam ever since they went to Canada. Not that she opens up about it.
The man Sophie set me up with has a head of blonde hair that curls at the ends. He looks kind of cute in a sweet way, and he even has a hint of an accent I can’t place. Candlelight dances off his brown eyes as he stares into mine.
“What’s it like to be a vlogger for Bandini? At McCoy we always watch them, hoping you’ll drop trade secrets.” My date, Daniel, smiles wide.
I shake my head. “I’m careful to make sure that doesn’t happen. I think they would flag my videos and not allow me to film anymore.” I make a zipping motion with my fingers and throw the invisible key over my shoulder.
“Which videos have you seen?” Sophie jumps in, her blonde space buns bobbing.
“We watch a lot of them and they look pretty well done. Do you edit them yourself?” Her date, John, asks.
“I’ve learned how to edit better as I continue to make more videos. I’m sure I could upgrade my equipment once it takes off because nice cameras are worth thousands of dollars.”
“By taking off, she means more than a million followers. She’s close to 800,000 already.” Sophie beams like a proud mom.
“How much did you pay Noah to do those videos? Especially the question ones because he never does stuff like that. He even declined Sports Daily when they asked for a similar one.”
My eyes burn at the memory. Nothing like bringing up Noah to dampen my mood, except my date has no idea about Noah and me, let alone how the industry works.
“I paid him nothing since he volunteered, and I didn’t exactly strong-arm him into it. Plus, we don’t really pay for things like that in this kind of work. Famous people usually do it if they want to. If not, they say no.” I scrunch my nose at Daniel’s misunderstanding.
“Doubt anyone could say no to you, not even the great Noah Slade.” Daniel’s smile doesn’t fill me with warmth like Noah’s did. I give a weak smile back, not exactly enjoying how he brings up Noah and Bandini.
Sophie gives my knee a squeeze under the table, finding the perfectly painful pressure point. I force the idea of him out of my head. Her new project includes conditioning me into not thinking about Noah anymore, going as far as watching videos on Pavlov’s dog.
“Excuse me, I’ll be right back. I need to use the restroom.” I push my chair out with more force than I’d intended. It knocks into the back of another person’s seat, causing the occupant to glare at me.
“I’m so sorry.” I speed walk out of there and dart into the dark hallway near the bathrooms.
I pull out my phone to distract myself while keeping track of time. Scrolling through Instagram’s feed comforts me.
The screen shuts off.
I breathe in a smell that’s distinctly Noah.
Oh God, why does my luck suck so bad lately?
“Date going that terrible?” His hoarse voice grabs my attention, and my heart rate picks up. Calloused fingers lift my chin, making my body respond to him instantaneously like we haven’t spent a month apart. Poor lighting in the hall doesn’t give me much to look at. I breathe in the smell of him because I’m a glutton for punishment. His textured thumb drags across my lips.
“What are you doing here?” Did my voice sound husky? I can’t hear it over the blood rushing through my ears.
“I’m out at dinner with friends. It’s a popular restaurant.”
Okay, so at least he doesn’t follow me around. That would be a bit concerning.
Noah’s dark silhouette blocks any light, making it difficult to distinguish his features in the dim hall. His lips brush against mine. My lips tingle from the barest touch, a mere caress I feel guilty enjoying. I tilt my neck to the side to evade his lips.
He chuckles. His lips trail down my neck instead, leaving light kisses behind.
“I’ve missed you.” The three words he says feel like everything I want to hear. They make my heart ache because he can’t give me what I want, no matter how much I crave it.
“You can’t miss what you’ve never had.” If I wasn’t currently occupied, I’d clap myself on the back for that one.
“What if I told you I’ve changed, that the break did us good?” He gets the words out before his lips suck on my neck, what I deem to be my weak spot. Our chemistry has not wavered. It feels as charged as ever; as his lips drag across my skin, my body unconsciously arches into him.
The betrayal.
“Not sure if I believe you. Actions speak louder than words.”
Trashy tabloids have kept quiet since the blonde woman in Baku. He may speak the truth, but I don’t want to chance it, putting myself out there to get hurt.
“Let me show you. Just give me a real chance.”
His lips find mine again. But this time his kiss domineers the situation, just like him, crashing against me and tearing down my walls. His tongue strokes the seam of my lips, seeking entrance.
I keep them sealed off, preventing him from taking the kiss further. He
nips at my bottom lip in a silent demand for me to open up to him. His teeth graze and pull, causing me to groan at the feeling.
“Uh. Oh man, I’ll come back later.”
My head snaps up at the stranger’s voice. I bury my face into Noah’s button-down shirt, which is a bad idea because the addicting smell of him makes me lightheaded.
I don’t move until the stranger’s footsteps disappear.
“Hear me out. Let me expla—” his voice croaks.
Nope. Need to get out of this situation ASAP.
“Um. Uh…I have to go.” I take off in the direction of my table, leaving a grumbling Noah behind me, not bothering to steal a second glance at him. My brain tells me to run away from Noah while my body tells me to run toward him.
Sophie’s eyes narrow at me when I settle back in my seat, making me feel even worse about what happened.
I ignore her side glances throughout the night because we can have story time later.
My stomach twists in knots as Sophie stares at me from across the room, her sneaker tapping against the carpet. She reads my body language while she sits on the sectional couch in Santi’s suite. My eyes gaze around at the plain hotel room in a struggle to find anything interesting to look at. Basically, anything but her face would do.
“What did we say about him?” She won’t let me off easy, her voice laced with disappointment.
“Well, I didn’t exactly fall for his rough yet sweet personality, kissable lips, fuckable body, or rock-hard abs. Honestly, he cornered me in the hallway. I didn’t even know he was there. It’s not like I chose the restaurant.” I may or may not have practiced that line in the bathroom earlier.
“And what, he tripped and his lips fell on yours?” She waves her hands around. Yup. Definitely ticked off. My silence doesn’t bode well with her because she paces the room, agitated and grumbling about how all her plans fail.
“Don’t you dare try to play it off in your pretty head. That’s a ridiculous idea. You came back to the table a mess and your lips looked like you sucked his dick in the bathroom. Did you? Or did he suck on them like a Hoover vacuum?”
I have no clue how she says the most ridiculous things as seriously as she does, not even cracking a smile.
My chest and face feel fifty shades of pink. I dramatically throw myself face first onto the couch in front of us, grabbing a pillow to drone her out. She means well and all, but it doesn’t make it easier.
“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I learned my lesson.” Cushions muffle my voice.
“I sure hope so. Daniel is a nice guy who’s hesitant about giving you another chance.” She plucks the pillow from my face and stares at me, green eyes glittering under the dim lighting.
“You talked to him about it?” I cringe at my whininess.
She shakes her head. “Not exactly. But I can read these things. Call it intuition.”
“Next one will go better. Maybe we shouldn’t go somewhere public.” I get her hopes up, pretending to agree to another date I have no intention of following through on. No need to lead a poor guy on when my mind is on someone else.
“I don’t think it’ll happen because we are engaging in stage two of the plan.”
Sophie’s second phase fills me with uncertainty.
I glance up from my pity corner on the couch. She taps away at her phone, ignoring me.
“I’m bringing in reinforcements.” Tap. Tap. Tap. Her fingers moving against her phone fills the quiet.
“Should I be worried?”
She shoots me a mischievous smile.
Well, that answers my question.
24
Noah
I try to pinpoint the exact moment my friends started ditching me. Was it after Germany? Or France?
I can’t exactly place it, but ever since the summer break, I barely hang with Liam and Jax. Every week, they come up with excuses about being busy. By the time we show up in Singapore for the Grand Prix, they’re nowhere to be found. Yet again.
The only time I see them is during a press conference after Saturday’s qualifier. I ended up driving well and have pole position for tomorrow, securing the best spot at one of the few night races we have. At least things with racing look promising.
Do they not want to hang out with me because I win a lot? The Championship gets competitive after all. Maybe they keep their distance for the brand’s sake since teams don’t encourage us to hang out and play nice. But when I think back on times in the past, they never got this way, which means it has to be something else.
I hang out all alone in my hotel room, overlooking the city, checking out the view of the famous trees and Marina Bay Sands buildings. Singapore bustles with activity before the race. People flood the sidewalks, looking like ants from my suite’s balcony.
Despite all the action, for the first time, I feel lonely.
I’m putting it out there. My therapist would be proud.
I sit on the couch for a few minutes, processing what it feels like to have no one around. My friends rarely respond to my messages. We haven’t planned a night out, a strange occurrence for them in the biggest party city on the Prix schedule.
Even Maya avoids me ever since I kissed her in the Milan restaurant two weeks ago. She sticks to Santi’s side like a stage-five clinger, playing it smart because I’d never do anything in front of him. But she won’t give me a chance to explain myself either. I want to tell her I’m ready to try with her, the whole deal, no more fucking around.
I can’t stand how she evades me. So I do what usually calms me and drones out the thoughts in my head. I pull up Maya’s vlog on my laptop and click yesterday’s upload. My heart drops at her stunning smile, her brown eyes staring into the camera with happiness as she holds a lens to her face.
“Hi, everyone, welcome back. This week we are in Singapore and it’s honestly one of the coolest cities we’ve visited so far during the Championship. I’m here with Sophie, Jax, and Liam.”
Now I have my answer about my friends’ whereabouts. My teeth clench at the sight of them all smiling into Maya’s camera like they didn’t ignore my two texts to hang out.
“We’re here at the Gardens by the Bay. Viewers asked for a Web’s Most Asked Questions with Jax, Britain’s favorite playboy. Liam decided to tag along because he has a serious case of FOMO.”
You’re not the only one, buddy.
“We decided to do a combination deal here. It’s the best of both worlds. I asked viewers what their most pressing questions were about these two clowns. I wrote down the top ones because my Instagram was flooded with options. Ready?”
Sophie grabs the camera and films Liam, Jax, and Maya sitting on a bench with the supertrees in the background. Fan-fucking-tastic. A few people walk behind them and wave at the camera.
A burning sensation settles in my gut.
“Some are embarrassing, and others are outright silly, but I can’t be biased. I picked whichever ones were asked the most.” Maya smiles as she pulls out a paper with a list of questions.
I remember the time I told her she can’t be biased. Guess she keeps me in mind someway, making me smile.
My laptop bounces to the rhythm of my knee, nervousness and curiosity coursing through me about where this will go. Most of the questions she asks Liam and Jax are about F1 and the guys’ racing careers. Seven minutes pass before Maya asks about personal issues. Can’t help feeling like a stalker watching them like this, but she does post it publicly. Screw it.
“Jax or Liam. Or both. The lady subscribers wonder about your relationship status?”
They both high-five each other behind Maya like they’re five years old.
“I can answer for myself. I’m single and ready to mingle. Meet me at the Singapore party after the Grand Prix if you’re interested in hanging out and getting to know me.” Jax rubs a tattooed finger across his chin. Liam grins, not answering the question, that sly little shit.
Maya pretends to gag. “You heard it here first, eve
ryone. I am not dating either one of these guys. We’re all friends.” She nods enthusiastically. Liam stays silent, winking at the camera and tapping his fingers on his thigh.
Do they hang out this much? How did I miss this?
I pull up Liam’s Instagram profile. His most recent images are of him and Jax, or the four of them out touring whatever city the Prix is in. Plus, a few hard-to-miss posts of him and Sophie.
When did he clean up his act?
Jax’s profile looks similar. He has a picture of him and Maya in a photo booth from a gala event. I recognize the background because I was there too, yet I don’t remember seeing Maya there.
Where did they even find the time for all of this shit? But more importantly, could I make time for something besides racing?
I land myself on the Singapore podium. Second place. Woo-fucking-hoo.
This time the champagne showers don’t feel as fun. The crowd roars but I ignore them, my eyes landing on Maya standing behind a barrier as she cheers Santi on. My eyes stay glued to her for minutes. Her grin falters when she catches me looking at her, but she regains her composure. Jax and I end up spraying champagne on Santi since he impressively won the whole thing. This Prix is a challenge. Humidity is disgustingly high, making it hard for us to race with our heads fully in it. I think I lost at least five pounds after racing today. Not joking, sweat still drips down my back, clinging to my race suit.
Attendants escort us to the press conference after we all have a weight check, an ice bucket bath, and a quick shower. The idea of answering more questions fills me with dread because I’m not in the mood for reporters.
It stuns me to find Maya in her usual corner of the press conference. She gives me a tight smile before Sophie whispers something in her ear, her throat dipping back as she lets out a laugh. Carefree and so damn beautiful. I lick my lips at the sight of her, the hollow part of her neck easily becoming one of my favorite places—to kiss, to touch, to nip.