Throttled (Dirty Air Series Book 1)

Throttled: Chapter 8



Turns out Sophie and I mesh well together. We both love listening to the Jonas Brothers, eating the same Ben and Jerry’s ice cream flavor, and shopping at Zara instead of Fendi. Fundamental pillars of friendship.

I like having a new partner to attend sponsor events, press meetings, and any other snore-worthy activities. Especially one as quick and witty as Sophie. She comes off sassier than I’m used to, but I like how she doesn’t take shit from anyone.

I tell Santi that I’ll meet him at the sponsored event since Sophie and I will take a car together. He fails to hide his curiosity when he asks to meet the new friend I made, claiming he wants to make sure I’m not out corrupting a poor soul. His overprotection has hit new levels ever since we joined the F1 tour.

“Okay, break down the guys for me. I haven’t been around these people for like three years.” Sophie doesn’t miss a beat, wanting a rundown before we’ve seen any of them inside the ballroom. Not that I blame her. I wish I had been half as prepared because these men ooze confidence and sensuality.

“You know my brother and Noah, obviously. I met Liam at the other Prix, and he’s a total flirt. No promises that he may or may not eye-fuck you. Just a warning.”

Sophie’s eyes narrow. “I haven’t seen him since before my freshman year of college. But I’ve read stories of him in the tabloids. Lately he’s been popping up everywhere after he slept with his boss’s niece.” Her lips tip down in a frown.

I cringe at the information about Liam because what a low blow for his standing with McCoy. Bad timing with his contract renewal.

“Yeah, I don’t know how wrong the gossip columns are about these guys, so I barely pay attention to them. But that’s all I can share because I haven’t met any of the other racers yet.”

“This sponsor event is for the entire Prix so I’m sure you’ll see them in all of their hotness, at least from far away. Sometimes I question if it’s a requirement for F1 racers to be ridiculously attractive. Sex sure sells.” She lifts one brow.

I shake my head at her comment. Her assumption can’t be far off, at least from the press videos and interviews I’ve seen on YouTube over the years.

We enter the ballroom. There are ginormous chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, dimly illuminating the room as classical music fills the air, while waiters offer appetizers and small plates of food. I love attending these events to see what party planners come up with. The venue looks beautiful and extravagant, bright lights glistening off my sequin dress.

Sophie and I make our way toward the bar, linking our arms together to make it through the crowd, sliding past a series of suits. Alcohol is a must at these types of events. I quickly learned that lesson after one too many boring conversations about race cars and bank accounts.

Sophie pulls us into an empty spot at the bar. Liam conveniently occupies the area next to her, not holding back as his eyes roam over her.

“Sophie, I haven’t seen you in years.” His baby blues smolder. I try to not feel offended that he shares an interest in her after flirting with me. But I guess I should expect it since all these guys have the sex drives of teenagers.

“Liam.” She nods her head politely. Strange way to greet someone you haven’t seen in a while.

“What can I get you two fine ladies?” He waggles his brows.

“Isn’t it an open bar?” Sophie’s wit shines through and I love it. She may become my favorite person during this whole Championship business.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t order it for you. Make a man feel useful.” He places a hand on his chest and pouts his lip.

“Because you, of all people, need your ego stroked more than usual. Yeah right… But I’ll take a Moscow Mule.” Sophie flashes a smirk, making a dimple pop out.

He grins at her before he looks at me expectantly.

“I’ll have the same.”

Liam politely covers the tip for the bartender, making himself needed after all.

“Why do you two want to spend your night hanging with stuffy men? They’re such a bore.” He clinks his beer bottle to our glasses, along with a quick cheers before he takes a swig. Sophie’s eyes stay planted on Liam as his lips tug on the bottle.

“I’m on the hunt for my future husband. Was thinking of someone between the ages of forty and fifty. Old enough to pay for everything I want, young enough to not have a wrinkly dick.”

I choke on my drink. Sophie shrugs at me while Liam’s eyes linger on her chest for a second too long.

Pull it together, man.

“Sixty and older means you’ll only have to rinse your mouth with bleach for ten years instead of twenty.” Liam weighs the invisible options in his hands, beer bottle bobbing along with him.

“Unlike Sophie who wants to become a mail-order bride, I came because my brother drags me everywhere.”

“How’s your brother transitioning with our broody prince?” Liam turns toward me before his eyes drift back to his new interest. His eyes narrow at her lips wrapping around a straw, eye-fucking her as she sucks on her drink.

I shoot him a look that tells him he can’t bang my new friend because I actually want her to join me at events. Hopefully, my eyes say, “hands off.” Nights like these tend to be lonely and dull with Santi always being busy.

He catches it and subtly nods with understanding. Good.

“Sophie’s dad handles them, giving them enough love and attention to not make them jealous.”

“He’s a hard chief, running his team in tip-top shape while expecting the most from them. I wonder what it’s like growing up in his home. Care to share?” Liam looks eagerly at Sophie while flashing her a bright smile.

“Wouldn’t you like to know. Can’t reveal our secrets to the enemy.” Sophie pretends to seal her lips.

“I drive for a different team. Not quite enemies, don’t be dramatic.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you. Drama seems to follow you wherever you go.” Sophie says the words with a smile on her face.

Liam’s smile becomes a full-blown grin. “Keeping tabs on me?”

Sophie’s cheeks flush at Liam’s raised brow before she takes a drawn-out suck from her straw.

I break it up. “All right. Oh look, it’s Noah.”

I grab onto Noah’s arm and drag him into the conversation, no longer wishing to be the third wheel.

Noah looks down at my arm like it offends him. This is going swell.

“Noah, this is Sophie. Sophie, Noah.” I speak without thinking.

“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.


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