A mixture of guilt and gratitude make me offer him a small smile. “I definitely do. Thanks for getting me through security a while back." I give an embarrassed laugh. That wasnotmy finest moment. “I’d love to join you.” I wouldn’t, Ihatenepo-hires, but I try to tamp down my irritation in favor of politeness.
I take a seat across from him, clutch my smoothie, and examine him. He’s good-looking enough, but he doesn’t stir anything in me. Not lust, or desire, or even the faintest hint of interest.
He looks like a nice, decent guy who’s trying to break into F1, despite being a nepo hire. He doesn’t drip the overstated wealth or arrogance of typical trust-fund kids; he seems relatable. Why couldn’t I be drawn to someone likehim?Why does my kryptonite have to be a surly, grumpy driver who makes it his mission to either insult me or turn me on?
“How are you enjoying working with Stallion so far?” I ask Henry.
His eyes brighten with excitement. I beat back the envy that curdles in my stomach like sour milk. I’ve never been a particularlyjealousperson, but at this stage, I am fuckingsickof getting brushed off and set aside by people.
Then again, if any other teamhadtaken me, I’d have never joined Gaston. I wouldn’t have met Ilya, or Declan, orAsher…
Stop thinking about him!
“It’s amazing,” Henry says, a smile splitting his face. He looks nice when he smiles, attractive even, but again... it falls flat.
I must have chronically terrible taste in men.
Henry starts going through his responsibilities. I smile stiffly, nod along, and sip my admittedlydelicioussmoothie. It sounds like his job is to get treated like the team’s bitch—coffee runs, supply runs, lots of sprinting around the paddock to get some obscure tool that a mechanic or technician needs.
Admittedly, hearing it makes me more grateful for my role. I was only in his position for a single race, and mostly because Asher decided to blame me for his fuckups. Something I know can happen again at any time and easily undo the progress I’ve made.
A prospect that makes meveryanxious each time I think about it.
“You okay?” Henry asks. “You seem a bit… stuck in your thoughts.” He smiles nervously. “I’ve asked you a few questions in a row, and you just kept nodding and agreeing with me.”
Oh boy. My cheeks heat, and I offer Henry a slightly awkward smile. “Sorry,” I murmur. “Lots on my mind.”
“I’m sure.” He smiles good-naturedly, letting me know he won’t hold it against me. “I heard you were Asher’s Race Engineer back in Sakhir. Your voice got some airtime with the broadcasters.” The tips of his ears turn red. “This is so weird, but you sounded really good. You know, giving orders.” His face quickly pales, then turns the shade of a ripe tomato. “Not like—oh god, I don’t mean likethat.Well, I’m sure you’d sound great giving orders in bed too, but I didn’t—”
“Am I interrupting something?”
Cool. Composed.Callous. Hearing Asher’s voice behind me is as much of a surprise as it always is, even though I should be getting used to it now. He never fails to sneak up on me in the worst possible moments, such as when a relative stranger decides to discuss how good I’d sound giving orders in bed.
Fuck my life.
“Holy shit,” Henry breathes. “You’re—”
“Asher Lawrence.” I can hear the undertone of animosity in Asher’s introduction. “And you are?”
Henry blanches. “Oh. Right. I’m, um—”
“I just realized I don’t care. You can go. I have some technical issues to discuss with my intern.”
“Oh, yes, ofcourse.” Henry hurriedly stands up and grabs his smoothie. I massage my temples with the padsof my fingers, already exhausted with a conversation that hasn’t even started yet.
“You know, I’m genuinely impressed with your ability to find me at the most awkward moments possible,” I comment as Asher slips into Henry’s vacated seat. “I’m starting to think you might be stalking me.”
“Mm.” A half-smile graces his full lips. He reaches across the table and snatches my smoothie. My lips part at the blatant act of thievery, but my surprise morphs into heat as he wraps his lips aroundmystraw and takes an obscenely long drink of the smoothie I paidthirty dollarsfor.
“For your information, I was in the lobby searching for food. I happened to be in the mood for a smoothie, and I happened to see you flirting with another man.” He sets my smoothie back on the table just a little harder than necessary, underscoring the razor-sharp edge to his tone. “Don’t do it again. I don’t share.”
My eyebrows damn near hit my hairline. “Bold of you to assume that it’s sharing when we’ve been ononedate.”
“That date ended with me muffling your screams in a public bathroom.” His smile turns impish when my blush becomes impossible to hide. Damn him for being right, and damn him to hell for knowing how to play me like the world’s easiest fiddle.
“You owe me at least fifteen dollars.” I eye my smoothie, which only has about a third left. “Maybe twenty. That smoothie was thirty bucks, and you just drank two-thirds of it.” I meet his eyes. “In one sip.”
Try as I might to contain myself, I can’t help but imagine what it might be like to experience the talents of his mouth first-hand. My blush intensifies until I’m giving Henry a run for his money.
