I lie to myself about how I don’t want to miss out on her vlogs when I appear in them. But I have a hard time convincing myself when I check out her travel videos too, curious about what she does during her free time away from the racetrack.
“Any last words you want to share with Bandini fans?” She nudges me with her elbow.
“Tune in next week to see me kick Santiago’s ass.” I smile at the camera.
She laughs and elbows me harder this time, the tiny bone barely making a dent.
“Spoken like the conceited athlete we all know. See you next time.” She waves goodbye to the camera and shuts it off. I take in one last breath of her addicting smell before she pulls away, the heat of her body gone.
Yup. I’m a sick motherfucker.
“Thanks for doing that. I wasn’t sure if you would, to be honest.” She tucks a loose lock of hair behind her ear.
Her nervousness comes back in full force, guilt tugging at the few heartstrings I have left. I can’t help being an asshole.
“No problem. Can’t have you only showing Santiago’s side of things. It’s good PR for the company anyway.” Right. I have trouble believing my own lie despite how easily it flows off my tongue.
“Yeah sure…” Her voice tells me she doesn’t buy my brand of bullshit. “Maybe you can join another time again. I better get going since I have to edit all of this before the race tomorrow. Congrats on your pole position.” She sends me one last smile over her shoulder.
“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.