Throttled (Dirty Air Series Book 1)

I avoid everything Noah-related for weeks. Anytime I find him in the Bandini suites, I walk the other way. Things sit heavy between us. And not in the “hot and heavy” kind of way, much more like the “my heart hurts whenever I see him” kind of way.

How I feel about him is messy. It doesn’t fit nicely into checked boxes or a pros and cons list. I struggle to understand my conflicting emotions, which ends up pissing me off more. Part of me wishes he could commit to trying a real relationship while another part of me thinks he’s not even worth the trouble.

He should have waited at least a day before hooking up with someone else. It’s basically common courtesy.

How do you fuck another woman right after you go on a date with someone else? It’s cold and disgusting. I honestly didn’t expect that from him.

Every time I run into Noah, I feign indifference, choosing to ignore the way my heart beats faster around him. Or how my body heats when his eyes roam over me, or the hint of sadness that crosses his face when I ignore him.

I thrust myself into taking my vlog to the next level. Seven hundred thousand subscribers tune in to my vlogs already, and the ads on my videos turn a nice profit. Sponsors reach out to partner with me, something I never thought was possible. The vlog has surpassed everything I’d ever dreamed of. Sophie and I visit different places in every city we travel to, making the most of my time with Bandini while the explorations conveniently keep me away from Noah.

The month-long summer break between the first and second half of the season couldn’t have come at a better time. I try to lie to myself and say I don’t miss Noah over the vacation. But I do. I check out his social media accounts daily, except he keeps quiet, not posting anything but a couple pictures of the Italian coast. Even gossip accounts have nothing to report on him. He’s taken a break from everything. And maybe it’s a good thing, seeing as his previous indiscretions finally cycled out of the media.

I spend the vacation with my family, including Santi. Besides the temporary bouts of missing Noah, I have a good time.

Sophie comes to Spain to visit us during the last week of the break. My parents welcome her like a second daughter, sharing how grateful they are for me to have someone to spend time with besides Santi.

Sophie and I come up with the best plan. A talent of hers.

“Repeat the plan back to me. I want to make sure you’re convinced.” Sophie paints her nails in my bedroom. Tomorrow, we both fly together to the next race because she wants to prep me before seeing Noah at the Belgian Grand Prix.

I jokingly roll my eyes even though I appreciate her friendship and dedication to making sure I keep out of trouble.

“All right. Since I’m now a mature woman who knows better, I’m going to be civil and nice. I don’t need to play games with him. We are two adults who can get along for the sake of the team.”

Sophie smiles up at the quote she makes me repeat every time I bring up Noah. “And…” She waves her hand expectantly.

“I will not give in.”

“In to what exactly? I need to hear you say it.”

Ugh, she actually wants me to repeat it.

“I will not fall for his rough yet sweet personality, rock-hard abs, kissable lips, or fuckable body.” My new go-to chant.

Her green eyes sparkle. “Atta girl. I’m so proud. Look how quickly you grew in a month. Vacation glow looks good on you.” She pinches my cheeks.

“Why does this feel like it’s going to be a disaster?”

“Stop your catastrophizing. You’re going to give yourself a migraine. What’s the goal for the second half of the season? Maybe we need to run through it one more time.”

She’s so full of it. But I give in because she flashes me two dimples.

“Grow my vlog, find a nice man to go on a couple of dates with, and spend time with my best friend.”

Sophie claps her hands like I’m a child saying my first words. The display comes off dramatic and silly, but it fits her.

“Yes, girl. Cheers to that!” We clink our glasses and sip our wine.

The cold liquid soothes my throat. “Where does one find nice men in F1 anyway? I’m curious.”

“Leave that up to me. I’m your fairy godmother but instead of waving a magic wand, I use a magic dildo. Works like a charm. It’s guaranteed to land you the best dick you’ve ever had.”

Wine nearly streams out of my nose.

Not sure what I volunteered myself for, but I can’t help feeling worried.