Page 21 of Drive Me Wild
“You just want us to get together because you’ve got money on the line,” I tease, hoping to steer the subject away from Theo. “And I’m not giving you that satisfaction, babes.”
I start singing The Rolling Stones’ “You Can’t Always Get What You Want,” although I’m not sure if I’m telling her or reminding myself.
NINE
THEO
I topthe times at all three practice sessions and keep the momentum going through each segment of qualifying. Blake comes behind me in second, having finished just 0.001 seconds after me—a frustratingly narrow margin for him. He seems okay with it, though. Ella’s mellowed him out in the best way possible. His performance has never been better, and his attitude doesn’t make mechanics cry and engineers shake in their boots. It’s a win for everyone.
The two of us head to the press conference that’s held for the drivers in the top three starting positions. Lucas is already there, chatting with some reporters. The race has only been over for thirty minutes, but the silver rings he wears are already back on his fingers. While I have a partnership with Adidas, Lucas has one with Gucci. He’s been in Vogue for his style more times than I can count, but he’s the least conceited person I know.
“Nice job out there,” he congratulates me. “You too, Hollis.”
“Thanks, Adler,” Blake and I say simultaneously.
“You guys do know each other’s first names, right?” Josie says, appearing at Lucas’s side. Her camera is hanging around her like a necklace. “You’re not just awkwardly using last names as a cop out?”
I point my thumb at Lucas. “Of course not. This is Larry, and this,” I wave my finger in front of Blake, “is Bill.”
Josie’s laugh is soft and sincere. My dick twitches underneath my race suit like it remembers the sound and wants to say a nice hello.Christ. I need to jerk off before she comes over later so I’m not too tempted to try anything with her. But if something were to happen on its own—like we end up playing with one another instead of a game—I would be all for it.
She chats with us for a little before disappearing into the sea of reporters and journalists. Lucas, Blake, and I sit at a long table, ice-cold water bottles and microphones stationed in front of each of our seats. The Formula 1 logo looms behind us, just in case anyone forgot what this press conference is for. The questions are low pressure—reporters inquiring about the condition of our cars and the track, any concerns, or predictions we have about the upcoming race.
“Walker!” someone from SkySports shouts. As soon as I make eye contact with him, all the other voices in the room quiet. The steady drone of the air conditioning buzzes as I wait for the question. “How do you feel about securing your second pole position of the season?”
I lean toward my microphone, interlocking my fingers in front of me. “Some people like missionary or doggy-style the best… I’m not going to lie; my favorite position happens to be pole.”
The room erupts into a chorus of laughter. Press conferences tend to get boring after a bit, so I’ve made it my personal mission to liven things up a bit. A sex joke here or there never killed anyone—at least, I don’t think. I’ll have to ask Ella, whose true crime and mysterious death knowledge is alarming.
“In all seriousness,” I continue, “it feels great, but as you know, it’s truly anyone’s race tomorrow. Every driver wants to deliver a win, regardless of where we start on the grid.”
Josie,being the most punctual human on the face of the planet, knocks on my door the moment the clock switches from seven fifty-nine to eight p.m. I wonder if she sets an alarm in the morning or if she’s one of those people who naturally wakes up at the same time every day.
“You ready to get your arse kicked, Walker?” she greets me. “I’ve been stretching my thumbs all afternoon.”
I open the door to my hotel room, letting her pass by me. She’s wearing a matching beige sweatsuit, her blonde hair hanging loose around her shoulders. Is it a Netflix and chill sort of outfit? My guess is no, but a man can dream.
“I’d rather you spank my arse than kick it.”
Josie swivels her head and looks at me. “A naked woman isn’t going to pop out from behind the curtains, is she?”
It takes me a minute to realize what she’s insinuating. It takes me another minute to realize that Josie’s the only person I’ve slept with in the past few weeks. Not only that, but I haven’t even tried to sleep with anyone else. And it’s not like there weren’t options, because trust me, there were. I’m not a sex addict by any means, but I do get laid on a regular basis. And it’s been over a month since I last slept with someone.What the fuck?I’m not concerned that I haven’t had sex in a few weeks; I’m concerned that I don’t care.
“Don’t worry,” I tease with a grin. “I threw her out before you got here.”
“Ah.” She smiles but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.Fuck. I wasn’t trying to make her uncomfortable. “Well, I appreciate it.”
Before I can tell her I’m kidding, she plops onto the couch. “So what’re we playing?”
I toss her the case of the game. I’m on the cover of the newest F1 racing game, alongside Everest driver Harry Thompson and Ithaca driver Frankie Talmud. It doesn’t come out for another few months, but they sent me an early copy. I’m not a bona fidebeta tester, but I do give them thorough feedback. If a game with my face is going to be sold, it damn well better be the best game out there.
She bursts out laughing. “Obviously, you’re going to win! That’d be embarrassing if you didn’t, Walker. It’s a video version of what you get paid millions to do in real life. That’s like Mary Berry losing a baking competition or something.”
“I haven’t played this yet!” I protest. “But we can play something else if you want.”
I list a bunch of games.League of Legends, Hearthstone, Fortnite, World of Warcraft, Arena of Valor. Josie stares at me as if I’m speaking ancient Egyptian. “What aboutSuper Smash Bros.?”
She combs her fingers through her hair. “Isn’t Super Smash Bros. the name of that micro-brewery out in Kensington?”
