Throttled: Dirty Air (Book 1)(21)

“We know each other. I’ve been on her dad’s team for five years.” He gives me a puzzled look that is immediately replaced with one of hunger as his eyes take me in, raking down my red dress. Thank you, Sophie, for the outfit idea.

My stomach dips as I check out his tux, a new weakness of mine. Resist the bow tie, Maya. This weekly situation tortures me. What have I done to deserve this type of punishment?

No matter how many times I tell my brain Noah isn’t worth the trouble, my body won’t agree. Out of nowhere, his index finger drags across my knuckles, an electric connection sparking at his touch. My drink sloshes when I pull my hand away in a jerky motion. Cool liquid trickles down my skin.

Noah’s thumb picks up the droplets before he brings the pad to his mouth, his eyes remaining on mine. Oh my God.

I inhale deeply, filling my lungs with air. He shoots me a telling wink.

I let out a breath of relief as Noah talks, placing his hand in his pocket.

He smiles at Sophie in a caring way. “Nice to see you though, Sophie. Your dad sure sounds happy to have you visiting us. He talked all about it at lunch the other day, not shutting up about you finishing up your degree. Says you should manage my funds.”

Sophie gives a shake of her head. “And he told me lots about his dream team and how smitten he is with all the new changes. Are you playing nice with this one’s brother?” She points at me and smiles.

Thank you for bringing up his rival, Sophie. Is it too late to cancel our friendship?

Noah chuckles. “Don’t insult me, I thought I was his dream racer. But yes. I share all my toys with Santiago, making sure to play nice together at recess.”

I roll my eyes at his smug smile, questioning why I thought bringing Noah here was a good idea. Just when I think he can be normal he turns into an arrogant jerk.

Our exchange is saved yet again by a random guy. Based on his looks alone, I peg him as an F1 racer.

His British accent breaks up the current conversation. “Hey guys. What an event, am I right?”

Sophie and I both swoon at the Englishman in front of us, his accent packing a punch. The Brit greets us with dark eyes, bronzed skin, and roguish curly hair that no brush can tame. His unbuttoned black shirt displays neck tattoos trailing down the small reveal of his chest. He nails the quintessential bad boy look. A tattooed hand grips a glass tumbler, showing off inked knuckles and fingers.

Liam and Noah greet the stranger and introduce him as Jax, Liam’s teammate. No wonder barely any women have jobs in the F1 industry. I doubt I’d be productive working around this hotness day in, day out.

“Who are these lush young ladies? You two have been holding out on me, I see.” He gives Liam and Noah a wild smile and tips his glass up to them.

Sophie blushes, not immune to his charm. F1 hires the lookers of the group. Honestly, I doubt I’m any better off at the moment, with my cheeks matching the color of my dress.

“I’m Maya Alatorre and this is Sophie Mitchell.” Go me for getting the words out.

“Quite a duo you two have here.” He shakes his head at Liam and Noah.

“We wanted to keep them away from your ugly face. Don’t want to scare the girls away before they get to spend more time with us.” Liam tips his beer in Jax’s direction before taking a swig.

Noah suppresses a groan, barely audible over my laugh.

“Who knows, maybe we can have them root for McCoy over Bandini one day. Women tend to be suckers for our accents.” Jax lays the British accent on real thick this time.

“I’d rather die than cheer for your team.” Sophie looks mock-disgusted with a wrinkled nose and wide eyes.

“Don’t go saying things you don’t mean. One day in my pit garage and you’ll be wishing you never have to leave.” Liam suggestively smiles at Sophie. She smacks him on the arm before messing around with her drink again.

“Catch you all later.” Jax tips his glass toward us before he steps away from the conversation. Sophie practically drools on her dress, unprepared for the hotness that seeps out of F1 racers. I tried to warn her earlier.

“Nice chatting with you both. We’re going to be on our way now. Thanks for the drinks, Liam.” I shoot him a grin while grabbing Sophie’s hand and tugging her away.

“The drinks are free. Seriously, Liam, you’re strapped for cash? McCoy not paying you enough?” Noah’s voice carries over the music.

Liam lets out a deep laugh while I run away from Noah because bow ties are my kryptonite.

Not Noah. Nope.





9





Maya


The crowd stirs with enthusiasm as pit mechanics prepare for the Chinese Grand Prix. Team members huddle around the cars, conducting engine checks and ensuring everything looks good to go. It’s chaotic yet organized all at once. Hundreds of people help run the operation, from feeding drivers to running electrical tests on Bandini cars.

Noah goes through his solitary pre-race ritual. I don’t blame him for his preference, with the immense amount of pressure during every race. Plus, how draining fans and crowds can be. Santi and I hang out while he signs hats and gear for fans. He likes how I keep him company, telling me it eases his pre-race jitters. Whatever works for him.

I enter the suite area, silence welcoming me since most of the crew work in the garage, making sure the cars are in top condition for the race.