He pauses for a beat. “You’ll be in the pit wall for the race. I want you next to Ethan Okoye—have you met him?”
“No.” But I know that he’s the voice in Asher’s ear during races. He takes split-second instructions from Declan and Ilya, processes live race data and gives Asher directives.
Asher just isn’t particularly prone tolistening.
“He’ll be on the team plane on our way over. As will you.” A pregnant pause. “Sit with him. Discuss strategies with him. And advise him during the race.”
He turns back to Asher, giving a slow nod. “We’ll see if I made the right decision hiring you.”
No pressure or anything.
He strolls out with the same careless air he had when he strolled in. I take a few deep breaths, trying to compose myself. Ilya just gave me enough rope to hang myself with—if my suggestions during the race prove useful, I could get a strong foothold with team leadership. If they fail, however, I doubt I’ll get another chance.
I power on the headset. “That’s all I need for the day, thank you,” I murmur.
“Thankfuck,” Asher grumbles. I watch through the window as he powers down the simulator. He steps out of the car, pushes his sweat-dampened hair from his forehead, and glances at the mirror. It’s one-way to avoid distracting him during simulations, but he manages to catch my gaze and capture it nonetheless.
He’s dating. He has a specialShein his life. Stop staring at him.
I don’t listen to the voice of reason. Ican’t.
Asher stretches his arms, his legs, and rolls his head around. The way his muscles ripples and flex… it’s almost like watching porn.
By the time he steps out of the room, there’s a pulsing ache in my core, and I’m pointedly gazing at my laptop to avoid Asher.
“We leave day after tomorrow,” he says for a beat. “What’s your grand plan for tomorrow’s work in the simulator?”
“Elio has it booked until 6pm,” I say after a few beats. “Tomorrow I want to do a test rerun. I’ll put you back in the last race and give you instructions based on a few strategies I’ve put together. We’ll have to stay late if you’re up for it.”
Asher pauses for a few beats. “I’m up for it.”
I close my laptop and stand up, still looking anywhere but at him. “I’ll spend tonight fine-tuning my ideas and making projections. So, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Another pause. It seems like he wants to say something, but is holding himself back. “Right. Tomorrow.”
Chapter Seventeen
Asher
Ican admit to myself that the intern is not only a real-life fantasy, she’s also good.
Verygood. Meticulous to a fault, though—she makes me repeat the same shit ten, twenty,fiftytimes over so she can ‘gather data’.
But, the day before we leave for Bahrain, the full-race simulation run we do proves that I didn’t just waste two weeks of my life with a clueless intern.
The sim run itself is nerve-wracking on its own, because I was a new level of shit at Suzuka—and Victoria plugs me straight into the race from my position in qualifying, keeping all the cars that were in the race in the same position—in other words, with a much better shot of success than me. She implements a typical tyre strategy, and from the moment the lights go out, speaks calm directions in my ear.
One thing I’ve learned over the last weeks is that her voice is distracting asfuck.It’s pitched low and filled withallure. It isn’t difficult to imagine her murmuring “please, fuck me” in that voice.
“Target is holding position for the first few laps,” she says. “Don’t do anything crazy—we need to get the tyres and brakes warm.”
Most engineers wouldn’t expand on their directives—they aim to speak as little as possible, only sayingjustenough to give instructions.
I like the sound of her voice enough not to tell her to shut up, so I just follow directions. The first couple of laps are simple enough. The issue comes on lap three, when I’m about to switch into boost mode to attack.
“Hold position,” she murmurs, anticipating my move and telling me to stay as I am. “Don’t get impulsive. Your attack won’t be successful.”
“How thehelldo you know?” I hiss, thumb hovering over the boost button. “I’m still P22. I can take him.”
