Throttled (Dirty Air 1)

“So anyway, please stop distracting me. And quit the seductive laughs too. Did you know this guy agreed to help the girl grow her vlog? He may be part of the reason she has over a million subscribers now. But I don’t think the guy knows he’s stuck with her. Stage-five clinger. She’s already signed a contract with the team to come to the races next year since they want her to film more behind the scenes action to promote the brand. A whole ordeal.”

His voice expresses his surprise. “You didn’t tell me. Congrats, Maya. I’m so proud of you; I knew you could do it. Bandini is lucky to have you working on social media.”

“Sh. This story isn’t about me.” I laugh at his slip up before continuing. “Pretty crazy. Imagine the girl’s surprise that number twenty-eight doesn’t want to drive faster. Take more risks. He took a chance on their relationship, and it all panned out. I wonder if he could do the same thing today?” I imagine fans commenting about how cliché I am on our video. Oh well, I won’t be crying myself to sleep. At least not in that way.

Noah’s deep breathing and gear changes ring through the radio. The roar of the engine excites me. His car accelerates, pushing closer to Liam’s, closing the gap between McCoy and Bandini.

“Pretty sure the girl told the guy that she doesn’t date losers. But I can’t be too sure about that one because I haven’t asked her. But you can never put it past these racing fans, all fun and games until the guy doesn’t end up on the podium. I think girls have a thing for trophies and race suits—a combo deal.”

Noah chuckles into the mic. With only a few laps left to overtake Liam, the Championship is starting to slip from Noah’s fingers.

“But that’s a lie. Because this girl loves the guy. Like the ‘forever and always’ type of love. The ‘kids playing around outside while the parents have a quickie upstairs’ kind of love. Have you heard of that type?”

He stays silent. His rhythmic breathing and the hum of the engine encourage me to continue.

“It’s pretty insane. Can you imagine that kind of love? I can because I experience it. The story doesn’t end with a happily-ever-after because it starts with it. Because they have the rest of their lives to finish their story. Crazy, huh?”

Noah speeds up at a turn, pushing his car to the limit, sparks flying from his rear wing. He overtakes Liam in one of the last corners.

“Great job, babe! That was an amazing one. I knew you could do it.”

“Maya?” his voice rasps.

“Yup?”

“Keep talking. I love hearing your voice.”

Happy to oblige.

43

Noah

I lift the American flag in the air. World. Fucking. Champion.

I can’t thank Maya enough for helping me at the end there. Almost lost my shit behind the wheel, poorly controlled tremors running through my body until she came on the radio. But her voice and words pushed me to the limit and gave me courage.

The crowd wildly jumps around with energy and excitement. I call Maya over from the roped-off VIP section. Security guards let her through, grinning and shaking their heads as she runs up the steps of the stage and launches herself into my arms. The best hello sealed with a kiss. I twirl her around as she giggles, her arms wrapping around my neck while her addicting floral scent invades my nose. Someone passes me the trophy, and I hold it and her in my arms. One of the happiest days of my life.

Our friends shower us with champagne. Maya screams as the cold liquid splashes against us and runs down our bodies. I drop my head back in laughter, guzzling champagne that miraculously makes it into my mouth. Fans scream as I give Maya a mind-numbing kiss that tastes like champagne and happiness.

Amazing how quickly life changes.

I thought winning the World Championship was the best thing, the only goal I had for a long time. Shit, was I wrong. I realize today that the best thing includes winning with your loved ones.

Not my shitty father. But with Maya, my team, and my friends. This is the best feeling ever.

Well, the best for now.

44

Maya

If someone had told me a year ago I’d be standing on the F1 stage, hugging Noah Slade and my brother with each arm, I would have laughed until I cried. My brother stands next to me with the biggest grin on his face after placing third in the entire World Championship. He and Noah shower each other with champagne after winning the Constructors’ Championship together. Old rivals hugging like friends.

Funny how life has a way of working itself out. I joined the F1 schedule because I had nothing going for me, a post-graduate with a trail of failed attempts at jobs, stuck living in my brother’s shadow whether I wanted to be or not.

I can’t help looking over at the man who called dibs on me, the one with wavy dark hair and blue eyes that hypnotize me. A World Champion with a heart of platinum to match the trophy he carries above his head. The same man who says “I love you” instead of “good morning” every day. A self-proclaimed “sappy motherfucker” who begged me to wear his race car number today because he needs to mark me in every single way. A human wrecking ball who came into my life unannounced and smashed through all my expectations, leaving behind rubble, dust, and a fresh start.