Throttled (Dirty Air, #1)

by Lauren Asher

I can’t thank Maya enough for helping me at the end there. Almost lost my shit behind the wheel, poorly controlled tremors running through my body until she came on the radio. But her voice and words pushed me to the limit and gave me courage.

Someone passes me the trophy, and I hold it and her in my arms. One of the happiest days of my life.

Amazing how quickly life changes. I thought winning the World Championship was the best thing, the only goal I had for a long time. Shit, was I wrong. I realize today that the best thing includes winning with your loved ones. Not my shitty father. But with Maya, my team, and my friends. This is the best feeling ever. Well, the best for now.

He and Noah shower each other with champagne after winning the Constructors’ Championship together. Old rivals hugging like friends.

I can’t help looking over at the man who called dibs on me, the one with wavy dark hair and blue eyes that hypnotize me. A World Champion with a heart of platinum to match the trophy he carries above his head. The same man who says “I love you” instead of “good morning” every day. A self-proclaimed “sappy motherfucker” who begged me to wear his race car number today because he needs to mark me in every single way. A human wrecking ball who came into my life unannounced and smashed through all my expectations, leaving behind rubble, dust, and a fresh start. But most importantly, Noah Slade, the love of my life.

A year has passed since Noah won his fourth World Championship. Our team radio from the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix became a viral video on YouTube, fans supporting our relationship immediately. My parents welcomed Noah into our family, taking him in, no longer allowing him to spend time meant for families alone—holidays, birthdays, the works.

F1 still plays a huge part in our lives. I travel around the world with Noah, joining him at every race. My vlog remains popular amongst fans. The Formula Corporation asked me to work with the other phases like F2 and F3, but Noah claims he can’t win without his good-luck charm, threatening to hold me hostage if I skip out on his races.

The video starts up with a short clip of me at Santi’s first Bandini race in Australia. Someone took a video of me giving Noah a death stare. How embarrassing, but appropriate for how I felt about him at the time. “Oh my God. Who would even upload this? Look at how I’m staring at you. And why were you laughing behind my back?” How interesting, Noah checking me out on day one. What a player.

This time a shot of us at a press conference plays. Noah grins at me while I bob my head, making fun of one of the reporters. He barks out a laugh when I roll my eyes. Liam and Santiago glance at him while reporters look around, wondering what made Noah react the way he did. How cute of him to look at me like that. I had no idea he checked me out that much, hanging onto whatever dumb thing I’d do next. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.

Another video starts, this time of the podium when Santiago won the Grand Prix in Spain. Noah ignores everything happening on the stage. He gazes off to the side, the camera panning off to find what he smiles at, catching me with my back turned, hugging my parents. The Spanish flag is draped over me as I jump up and down.

Noah was always into me, even when I thought he was only interested in hooking up, but his eyes betray the way he feels. It’s a sucker punch right in the feels.

His thoughtfulness makes me want to cuddle up to him and never let go. Put a “do not disturb” sign on our front door, sealing us off from the public for an unforeseeable lifetime.

“Die a Happy Man” plays low in the background over the part where Noah twirls me around the air after winning the World Championship. Our smiles mimic each other. A beautiful mess surrounds us, with champagne splashing everywhere and confetti launchers exploding on the stage.

I love this cocky, self-assured, yet equally selfless and loving man. No other can ever replace him. I never thought it was possible to love someone like this. Unyielding passion and endless appreciation. Like he hangs the moon before dancing with me under it. Noah never letting a day go by where he doesn’t tell or show me how he loves me. A broken masterpiece no longer defined by his past.

I wipe the tears from my face and look over at Noah. Except he isn’t in his chair anymore. He looks up at me with the smirk I love, while he’...