by Lauren Asher
“How could you? I bring her along, hoping you’re nice to her instead of your usual asshole self, and what? You screw around with her like she’s nothing and then get her to lie to me. Is that your kink? Fucking up families because you come from a shitty one?”
Maya groans as she tugs on Santi’s shoulder. “Stop, Santi. It’s not his fault I lied. I didn’t want to tell you, not him. Let go.”
Santi doesn’t budge. He glares at me, his fingers twitching as he grips my suit, itching to hit me. I recognize the look from my father. But I’m a big boy, I can take it.
“Why only beat you on the track when he can get in your head just as much?” My dad lays it on thick, twisting everything special I have with Maya, selling his dirty story to my teammate.
Santi’s fists tighten. I wait for him to take a hit, anything to put me out of my misery. I despise how upset Maya is. Her eyes are red and puffy, her skin a sickly color as she watches us.
“I didn’t fuck around with her. I love her. I’ll keep loving her through everything, no matter what you or anyone else says, or whatever you try to do to break us up. It’s insulting for you to even think I’d be with Maya to fuck around with your racing. She’s the end game. I don’t hook up with her for a shitty trophy, and sure as fuck not for a Championship win. I want everything with her. Everything after this.”
Maya takes a deep inhale, her eyes wide as she looks at me. I smile at her, even though I have a raging Santi pegging me against a wall, a second away from decking me in the face.
“You’re a piece of shit. I trusted you. And you—” he looks at Maya for the first time over his shoulder while he holds me—“I’m disappointed in you.” Those four words do Maya in, her eyes leaking fresh tears.
“Don’t take this out on her. Please,” my voice croaks, “blame me.” I don’t mind begging if it saves Maya from her heart smashing all over the Bandini suite floor.
The most honest moment of my life.
“Seriously, all this drama for a stupid cunt?”
Santi’s hands drop me. His reflexes startle me, turning in a blur of red. The sound of flesh meeting flesh reverberates off the walls. It all happens in a second. My father clutches his face with a fired-up Santiago standing over him. In all my years, I’ve never hit him, but for once, someone has.
“You’re a piece of shit. No one talks about my sister that way. Ever. I don’t care who the fuck you were, but I know the sad excuse of a man you are now, and let me tell you, you don’t live up to the hype.”
No words come from my mouth while Maya stares at the two of us.
Santi’s body shudders, his self-control wavering. “Maya, let’s go.” He grabs onto her hand like a child.
My heart clenches as fear pumps through my veins, unable to handle her rejection if she finds this relationship not worth the trouble, not worth pissing off her brother, not worth a risk flooded with cons and promises that have yet to be followed through on.
Except her feet remain cemented to the floor.
“No.”
A simple word fills me with hope.
37
Maya
No more lies, no more secrets, and sure as hell no more people telling me what to do or how to live my life.
My brother’s eyes flare. His mouth opens, but I hold up a finger, needing to talk before I lose courage.
“Santi, I’m sorry for lying to you and keeping my relationship with Noah a secret. I…I love him. And I don’t want to hide it anymore, like something shameful because it’s nothing close to that. I need to grow up, and you need to let me. Mistakes included. Not that I think this is one, but no matter what happens, I can’t live my life worrying about disappointing you, or Mami y Papi, or even myself. I love you, but I need to take a chance on my relationship, and you have to accept it.”
Words rush out of my mouth, raw and unfiltered like my feelings for Noah. Santi gazes at me in disbelief.
He shocks me. His arms wrap around my body, pulling me in for a hug, as he mumbles into my ear, “I’m so fucking proud of you. But also, I’m pissed as fuck. To find out your secret from this dipshit on the floor, to know my teammate crossed boundaries…definitely not over it. But I want to be happy for you because you deserve everything in the world and more.” He lets me go.
His eyes shine under the suite lighting. “Don’t ever lie to me again. And you—” he points at Noah—“You better do right by my sister. If you make her cry, I swear I’ll make you regret ever being born from your crappy dad.” He looks down at Nicholas Slade who has yet to sink back into the pits of hell—from where he came.
My brother walks away. Secrets no longer get in our way, eating me up inside. I let out a shaky breath, my lungs no longer cut off from fresh oxygen.
Noah’s dad stands, his usual bravado absent except for malice in his eyes.
Noah takes over, stepping between his dad and me. “You’re no longer welcome here with Bandini. If you come around again, I’ll have you banned. We’re done. Don’t call me, don’t text me, and for fuck’s sake, don’t talk to Maya or her family. Go spend your sad existence somewhere else. It’s over. We’re over.” Noah’s blank face expresses nothing as he looks into his father’s eyes. No anger, no love, no sadness. Nothing but emptiness.
He grabs my hand and pulls me away. With no need to look over my shoulder, I turn my back on lies and Noah’s past. I glance up at Noah, and for the first time in hours, I smile.
Despite wanting to spend time with Noah after his crash, I need to speak to my brother without an audience. My lies hurt Santi more than he lets on because he has the softest heart.
I order us carry-out dinner because the way to his heart is through his stomach. When I arrive at our suite, he grabs the bag from my hands without giving me a backward glance. He sits at the large dining table and pops open my takeout box instead of his. His eyes assess the contents before sliding it to the empty seat across from him.
His eyes remain glued to his food as he shovels fried rice into his mouth. I sit and toy with the plastic-wrapped utensils.
“Santi, I’m truly so sorry for hiding the truth from you. I was going to tell you after the Abu Dhabi Prix because I didn’t want to upset you. You and Noah have a rough history. But I hated lying to you, and I never want to do it again.”
He blinks at me. More shoveling of food and scraping of plastic cutlery against Styrofoam. I deserve his silence and anger.
“I went to Rio early because Noah planned a trip, not because I was with Sophie. I used her as an alibi multiple times and I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say.
He takes a few deep breaths. “We always tell everything to each other. I hate how you lied to me…but I get it. I only want you to be happy, and I’m willing to put it past us.” He takes a big gulp of water. “I can accept Noah as your boyfriend under one condition.”
I hold my breath, waiting to hear what he says. In usual Santi fashion, he makes me sit with my discomfort, taking a few more bites of his dinner before putting his fork down.
“If you two break up, you still have to come to my races. No bullshit about it being awkward or how Noah broke your heart. You want to act like a big girl, then you need to deal with the consequences if you have a falling out.” He rubs his stubbled chin while he assesses me.
I can agree to those terms. Noah acts confident enough for the two of us about how this relationship will work out.
“Deal.”
38
Noah
The Abu Dhabi gala reeks of extravagance and wealth; crystal chandeliers shine around me as I mingle with sponsors. Everyone wants to talk about the final Grand Prix. About who will come out on top. Whether I will choke or dominate behind the wheel. My head pounds from the barrage of questions, wishing I could escape with Maya because takeout and a movie sound great right now.
Maya busies herself with Sophie, getting drunk on champagne while I schmooze with minimal booze.
I wrap up chatting with a sponsor, ea
ger to spend time with Maya, when Sophie’s dad pulls me aside. He wears a suit with his graying hair slicked back, a grimace marring his face. Not exactly the best hello.
“Noah, follow me. I need to show you something.” His eyes tell me to not argue.
My brows furrow at his request. I follow him out of the ballroom, curiosity piquing my interest as we walk into another empty room. My lips lift at the memory of Maya and me in this position. Except once my eyes land on the other Alatorre sibling, my smirk turns into a frown. Santi made sure to avoid me at all costs this past week. Nerves make my hands clench as I tamp down the tendency to run a hand through my thick hair.
“All right, you two. I don’t like how tense you both have been. Fans notice, the crew comments on it, and I sure as hell don’t want to deal with it. Get everything out now. I won’t allow any more drama on my team, especially with the final Prix coming up. If I wanted to be waist-deep in shit, I would have worked for McCoy. Santi, I’ll allow you one punch. Make it count because everyone knows Noah can be a smug fucker.”
My eyes bulge. James is giving Santi an all-access pass to take a shot at me? What the fuck.
Santi shares my same surprise, his eyebrows drawn together, making him look like he’s thinking too hard. I’d laugh if I didn’t want to piss him off more.
“I don’t know what to say.” His Spanish accent draws out his words.
A tick in his jaw says differently. I should pass Santi my therapist’s number, give him some help in the emotional expression department.
“Oh, cut the crap. He slept with your sister behind your back. Now he dates her, even loves her—all while competing against you. Of course, you have shit to say. Get it out or hit him. But fix this crap.” James taps his shoe against the floor.
Sophie’s dad stands tall, not backing down from this challenge, commanding respect from us as our team principal. Cue the feels.
“Okay, fine. Noah, it pisses me off how you disrespected me and went behind my back. You have a terrible track record with women, and I don’t want my sister to become another number in your long list. Someone to pass the time with until you get bored. Not to mention the fact that she’s my sister.” Santi crosses his arms, his fears and distaste for my past hanging around us like a third teammate.
“I’m sorry for hiding it, but I’m not sorry for doing it in the first place. Don’t expect Maya to be either. I want to put it past us, because I love her, and I want to be with her. Forever. I can’t help my crappy past and decisions, but I can control my future. And she’s it.”
My confession hangs in the air, willing to admit everything if it stops his moping.
He walks up to me, his clenched fists a warning. Shit. His eyes glare at me. I stand there, ready to take a punch, anything for this to be done with.
“I don’t need to hit you to feel better. I love my sister too much to mess up your pretty face.” He shoves his hand out in front of him, and I take it. His fingers grip mine tightly. I let him pull his man card, not interested in another pissing contest with him. I’ll save that for the track.
“I’m proud of you both, settling this like real men. Now get out of my sight. I don’t want to hear about any more drama from either of you, so help me God, because I didn’t ask for two sons. I deal with my daughter enough.” James’s voice has a hint of pride in it. We look over at him, catching his grin.
Santi and I walk out together, the tension following us from Brazil no longer a problem.
Santi claps me on the shoulder. “Let’s grab a shot? Cheers to the end of the season and to new beginnings?”
“Best idea you’ve had all year.”
39
Maya
“Just so you know, I think I threw up twice in my mouth looking at you two.” My brother barrels over after his practice round. The pit crew went on their lunch break, meaning we have a silent garage to ourselves, perfect timing for my filming.
I smile. “Aw, feel free to use the nearest trash can when you need it.”
“Quit harassing my girlfriend, Santiago.” Noah trails into our conversation. He makes his smug presence known, his palm tapping my ass before sliding into the back pocket of my jeans. Can’t say I hate it, now that I reap the benefits of his wicked smiles and dirty words.
My brother groans. “You’re the one who just smacked her ass right in front of me. Do you have a death wish?”
Noah grins while my cheeks heat. He lives to get under my brother’s skin, despite the number of times I tell him to stop teasing Santi. But at least they both laugh.
“I can’t help our burning love for one another,” Noah purrs with a dramatic clutching of his heart. Beautiful asshole.
Santiago gags. “Did you lose your balls between Brazil and here? Because if so, my chances of winning the Championship just got a whole lot better.”
Noah drops his head back and laughs. “I think Maya found my—”
I rush to cover his mouth, standing on the tips of my toes to reach him. “Nope. Absolutely not. Dirty jokes are off the table forever and ever.”
Noah licks my hand and winks at me. I pull away, not trusting myself around him because he has a way with words and his tongue.
“Seriously, can’t you both make out somewhere in private? Preferably far away from the pit garage where I don’t have to see you pushing my sister up against stacks of tires.”
Santi scared the shit out of us yesterday. The piles of tires fell like dominos, drawing everyone’s attention toward the three of us. My cheeks remained red the whole day after that display.
“We learned our lesson with that one.” Noah shakes his head, fighting a grin.
Unlike him, I let out a laugh, unable to rid the mental image of a fuming Santi pummeled by massive tires.
“I’m sorry. We’ll be better. That means no more funny business.” I give Noah a pointed look.
“Things we do are anything but funny.” Noah waggles his brows.
My brother runs an agitated palm down his face. “I hate to say it, but I may prefer broody Noah versus lovey-dovey Noah. That guy kept to himself during race weekends rather than shoving his tongue down my sister’s throat at every possible opportunity.”
We all know he likes Noah. These two have never been friendlier, with us all eating dinner together each night this week. They even hung out on their own when I went to interview Liam. I came back to the suite to find the two of them playing video games, duking it out with an F1 simulation. I sat between them and spent the night watching TV with the biggest smile on my face.
I situate the two men of my life in chairs facing back to back.
“Okay. Moving along.” I click the record button on my camera. “Hi, everyone. Welcome to my last vlog of this F1 season. We’re in Abu Dhabi where Santi and Noah just completed their practice round. With only two days left before the final Grand Prix, I wanted to take advantage of Bandini’s off-time. Today we are playing the Newlywed Game with our two favorite Bandini boys. The game goes as follows: Noah and Santiago each have two cards. A blue card means Noah, and red means Santi. Every time they both agree on an answer, the team gets a point. After ten months together, let’s see how well these two know each other. The goal is to win as a team, so think of your answers carefully. Three strikes and you’re both done, proving to the world Jax and Liam are the best teammates.” Those two scored thirty points together, surpassing my expectations. I doubt Santi and Noah will make it past ten.
I take up a seat next to the camera, choosing to stay out of the frame.
“Okay, first one. Who has had the least amount of speeding tickets?”
Two red cards go up. Noah and Santiago turn around and smile at getting the answer right.
“American cops pull you over for everything.” Noah rolls his eyes.
My brother faces the camera. “Because only an amateur gets caught.”
I continue because we will never finish at this rate. “Who has the bigger butt?”
My brother holds u
p a red card while Noah lifts up a blue card.
“Oh, you both disagreed. One X.” I cross out the question.
Noah sighs. “Come on, Santiago. Your ass could never fill out my jeans.”
My brother stands up and shows his butt off to the camera. I laugh to myself while Noah gets up to compare, the two of them not coming to a conclusion. Clearly their bonding has reached new levels because they ask my opinion, but I shrug my head. Not touching that debate.
“Who holds their liquor better?”
Two red cards wave in the air.
“Stick to beer. No one wants to see you taking up shop at the nearest pit trash can again.”
The three of us laugh. Noah’s poor decisions don’t hang around us, not after he admitted the truth about his dad to my brother two days ago. My boyfriend, the same man who acted like the whole world could go fuck itself, gave my brother a hug and told him thank you for punching his dad. A freaking thank you. If I didn’t already love him, I would have offered my heart at that moment.
“Who is the biggest baby when sick?”
Two red cards go up. Glad my brother sees his man-child ways because the stomach flu I got the last time taking care of him was nothing short of terrible.
“Who is more stubborn?”
Two opposite colored cards hang in the air.
“Another strike and a prime example of how stubborn you both are.”
“You do know it took you like eight months to figure out you liked my sister, right?” My brother flicks his blue card for emphasis.
Noah smirks at the camera. “Not as bad as you taking ten months to realize you wanted me as a friend rather than an enemy.”
Oh, shit.
“I didn’t need a referee for Liam and Jax’s game. Which by the way, you both are going to lose because you can’t agree on anything.”
“Well, at least we can agree on how we both love you,” my brother says with a telling smile.