Throttled: Dirty Air (Book 1)(48)

Maya lets out a low whistle. “I’m impressed. We’re talking to a World Champion here who gives free monetary advice.”

“You know what they say…the bigger the bank account…” I waggle my brows.

Maya ignores the camera and throws her head back. I love the sound of her laugh; pride surges through me at amusing her. Her exposed neck entices my inconvenient one-track mind.

“Who is Noah Slade’s wife?”

Wow, she picked hard-hitting questions here.

I continue. “I’m currently on the market. I’ve never married someone so that’s a negative. Is the statement no wife, happy life?” I wink at the camera.

“I think you mean happy wife, happy life.” Maya blushes and shakes her head.

I chuckle before I keep going. “Where does Noah Slade live? I’m not going to give away my addresses here because I can’t have paparazzi and fans at my doors all the time. My limited privacy is the best part of the off-season. But I own an apartment in Monaco, a house in Italy, and a loft in London. Favorite place to live is off the Amalfi coast during F1’s winter breaks. Hands down the best food and views.”

“Who can resist gelato? I’ve never been to Italy, but the food is my favorite. I can’t wait until the Prix stop in Milan. All right, two more left.” She clasps her hands together and looks at me. She crosses her legs again, drawing my attention toward them once more. I lick my bottom lip before continuing.

“When is Noah Slade retiring?” I blink at the board. I never think about retiring, choosing instead to focus on the next year. I’m still young enough to not worry about it. But the question makes me think about what I’ll do once I hit my late thirties.

“I bet you anything that Liam and Jax google this yearly. They’re probably waiting for my announcement since they’re younger. I don’t doubt it.” Blood rushes to my dick at the sound of her giggle. I need to get out of here before I do something stupid on camera. “Uh. I haven’t considered retiring anytime soon. But I imagine if I meet someone special and have kids, I may consider what’s best for my family. But for now, I plan on kicking everyone’s asses.”

Maya looks surprised at my answer. Hell, I am too. When the fuck have I thought about having kids or a wife? But the answer falls from my lips with ease, like I think about the notion occasionally.

“You never know what could happen in the future. But I’m sure you have plenty of time to figure it out. F1 racers don’t retire until like forty years old. Basically, you’ll be ancient once you leave here. Okay, last one.”

Is that even what I want? To keep racing at the risk of not having a life to go back to once it’s all done? I don’t want to be like my dad, who parties with twenty-somethings on private yachts, cruising around by myself. The thought creeps me out.

“Best Noah Slade team radio?” My team radio videos on YouTube are hilarious. “If you look me up on the internet, you can find lots of videos of me cursing at the team and myself. A team radio is how Bandini and I communicate about race stats, car info, and problems. My personal favorite video is the British Grand Prix from 2014. Watch it if you haven’t seen it. You’ll be entertained. The pit crew forgot to connect my water pump and I was basically a cranky baby without a bottle for an hour.”

I glance at Maya. Her eyes look up at me and fill my chest with a warm feeling.

“Thank you so much for joining us, Noah. Those were the most googled questions people wanted answered about Noah so I decided to go straight to the source. This week I’ll have exclusive footage from the McCoy team, including interviews with Liam and Jax. Stay tuned. Subscribe if you haven’t already. See you next time!” She waves to her camera before shutting it off.

She looks like a natural, both gorgeous and confident. It’s cool she’s found something she can be passionate about. Especially if it keeps her entertained and coming back to all the races because I don’t mind these one-on-one interviews at all.

“You forgot one more question.” I don’t think as the words leave my mouth. It seems like the perfect chance to have her alone without any interruptions of the blonde-haired, green-eyed variety.

Maya stares up at me, confusion lining her face.

“Will Noah Slade ask Maya Alatorre on a date?” I flinch at my pathetic pick-up line.

Not exactly my best work. I blame it on being out of practice, not the way my heart races in my chest at the fear of her rejecting me.

“A date? You don’t date.” She messes around with her camera tripod.

My hand engulfs hers to stop her fidgeting. Her body tenses as I rub my thumb across her knuckles, something I noticed she liked during the few times I’ve done it.

“I want to try. What’s one date?”

“Uh, for someone who doesn’t ever date…everything.” She tugs on her hand, trying to free it, but I don’t let it go. Not until I get what I want.

“It’s one date, don’t be dramatic. I’m not asking for a forever… Are you scared?” I goad her. “We don’t need to put labels on anything. Let’s have fun.”

“Of course I’m not scared. You just want to have fun?” Her brows raise and her lips form a tight line.

Maybe she won’t be happy with no labels, even though most chicks I get with don’t mind. Or maybe fun was the wrong word to say because now she looks at me in a way I can’t read.