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Throttled: Dirty Air (Book 1)(73)

Author:Lauren Asher

Darkness cloaks us, giving us the ability to disappear into large crowds of people, becoming one of the many partygoers. We grab drinks at the bar before we search for our friends.

We find them soon after, Noah’s fingers tensing before he removes them from my waist. The loss of contact makes me frown. But it’s a necessary precaution at the moment, at least for the next two months until the World Championship is over.

We pull up to the table Jax and Liam reserved, bottles of alcohol set up in the center. Sophie sits next to them. I take up a spot next to her while Noah sits on the opposite side with the boys.

“Did it work out between you two?” She yells over the music into my ear.

I nod my head up and down in confirmation. “I’m surprised you helped pull that plan off. What happened to saying no to fuckable bodies?”

She winks at me. I laugh because it looks way more like a twitch.

“This time it was worth it. I have faith it’ll all work out. The magic dildo told me so.” Both of her dimples show.

“Hey, I finally found you. Didn’t see you earlier.” My brother pulls me up for a hug. His words tug at my thin resolve, my lies building a wall around myself.

I play off my discomfort. “You’ve been busy being a Champion and all. Must be such a hard life. Hopefully your hand hasn’t cramped from carrying the trophy around all day.”

“If I have to do another interview I’ll scream. How do you guys ever get used to this?” He glances at the guys who send him a hello.

“You don’t. Eventually press conferences become a running joke. Check some of ours out on YouTube.” Liam hands a shot glass to my brother before tipping his own back. He pours alcohol for the rest of us. Sophie and I knock ours back at the same time, my nose scrunching as the alcohol burns my throat.

I try to pace myself throughout the night. A for effort. F for execution.

I’m drunk by 12 a.m. Liam and Sophie dance around together. Both look smashed, Sophie stepping all over his toes with her sneakers, but he takes it like a man, chuckling at her drunken display. Pretty much everyone has let go and is having a good time except Noah. My brother left so I get the all-clear to scoot over to his side of the couch.

“Why are you sober?” I try to pout my numb lips.

“I think I’m going to cool it on the alcohol for a while.”

Right. He and alcohol have a rough history.

My heart thumps in my chest as he smiles down at me. “You have such a good smile. It’s not fair. I want to look that good.” My fingers touch his face, grazing the rough stubble beneath them, imagining how it would feel in other places.

His chest shakes from laughing. “You look even better.” He brushes my hair out of my eyes like a gentleman. His lips brush up against my temple, pressing sweetly before leaving again.

“Your kisses are the best. Like nothing I’ve ever had,” I whisper-shout.

“Oh, tell me more.” He lures me in, wanting to hear my drunk confessions.

I glance around to confirm Santi’s gone. All clear.

“They turn me on. Like a lot.” Killing the sexy game, I think.

But he snickers at me instead of answering.

“What’s so funny? Why are you laughing at me? I’m busy flirting. Hello.” I push at his shoulder to make him stop.

He shoots me a breathtaking smile. My arms cross over my chest, his eyes narrowing as he stares down at my cleavage. I return the favor by checking him out. His messy hair does it for me, along with the bow tie he already undid an hour ago. Sigh.

I grin. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

He throws his head back and lets out a roar of laughter. I like being funny.

“Should I take that as a yes?” I clap my hands together.

“Sure, Maya. Let’s go. Meet me outside in five minutes.” Noah gets up from the table and says his goodbyes to the group. He acts like an expert at this incognito stuff to the point that someone could think we’d planned it all before.

I scroll through my phone, a hard job when all I want to do is get up and leave with Noah.

I wait for a total of four minutes before making my grand exit. My brother mopes at my departure after I find him schmoozing with sponsors. His sulking looks vaguely like mine, and I don’t like how much I corrupt him.

I check the town car’s license plate like Noah told me to. Numbers blur but it looks about right. My body falls into the bench seat dramatically, my dress swooshing around me as material flies everywhere.

The ride back to the hotel is quick with our driver adjusting his rearview mirror in hopes of sneaking a peek at our heavy petting and toe-curling kisses in the back seat. Noah barks at him to cut it out and to keep his eyes on the road. The older man sputters out an apology, the sound of his mirror returning back to normal making me laugh. At least until Noah shuts me up with more kisses.

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