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I sit on the couch for a few minutes, processing what it feels like to have no one around. My friends rarely respond to my messages. We haven’t planned a night out, a strange occurrence for them in the biggest party city on the Prix schedule.
Even Maya avoids me ever since I kissed her in the Milan restaurant two weeks ago. She sticks to Santi’s side like a stage-five clinger, playing it smart because I’d never do anything in front of him. But she won’t give me a chance to explain myself either. I want to tell her I’m ready to try with her, the whole deal, no more fucking around.
I can’t stand how she evades me. So I do what usually calms me and drones out the thoughts in my head. I pull up Maya’s vlog on my laptop and click yesterday’s upload. My heart drops at her stunning smile, her brown eyes staring into the camera with happiness as she holds a lens to her face.
“Hi, everyone, welcome back. This week we are in Singapore and it’s honestly one of the coolest cities we’ve visited so far during the Championship. I’m here with Sophie, Jax, and Liam.”
Now I have my answer about my friends’ whereabouts. My teeth clench at the sight of them all smiling into Maya’s camera like they didn’t ignore my two texts to hang out.
“We’re here at the Gardens by the Bay. Viewers asked for a Web’s Most Asked Questions with Jax, Britain’s favorite playboy. Liam decided to tag along because he has a serious case of FOMO.”
You’re not the only one, buddy.
“We decided to do a combination deal here. It’s the best of both worlds. I asked viewers what their most pressing questions were about these two clowns. I wrote down the top ones because my Instagram was flooded with options. Ready?”
Sophie grabs the camera and films Liam, Jax, and Maya sitting on a bench with the supertrees in the background. Fan-fucking-tastic. A few people walk behind them and wave at the camera.
A burning sensation settles in my gut.
“Some are embarrassing, and others are outright silly, but I can’t be biased. I picked whichever ones were asked the most.” Maya smiles as she pulls out a paper with a list of questions.
I remember the time I told her she can’t be biased. Guess she keeps me in mind someway, making me smile.
My laptop bounces to the rhythm of my knee, nervousness and curiosity coursing through me about where this will go. Most of the questions she asks Liam and Jax are about F1 and the guys’ racing careers. Seven minutes pass before Maya asks about personal issues. Can’t help feeling like a stalker watching them like this, but she does post it publicly. Screw it.
“Jax or Liam. Or both. The lady subscribers wonder about your relationship status?”
They both high-five each other behind Maya like they’re five years old.
“I can answer for myself. I’m single and ready to mingle. Meet me at the Singapore party after the Grand Prix if you’re interested in hanging out and getting to know me.” Jax rubs a tattooed finger across his chin. Liam grins, not answering the question, that sly little shit.
Maya pretends to gag. “You heard it here first, eve
ryone. I am not dating either one of these guys. We’re all friends.” She nods enthusiastically. Liam stays silent, winking at the camera and tapping his fingers on his thigh.
Do they hang out this much? How did I miss this?
I pull up Liam’s Instagram profile. His most recent images are of him and Jax, or the four of them out touring whatever city the Prix is in. Plus, a few hard-to-miss posts of him and Sophie.
When did he clean up his act?
Jax’s profile looks similar. He has a picture of him and Maya in a photo booth from a gala event. I recognize the background because I was there too, yet I don’t remember seeing Maya there.
Where did they even find the time for all of this shit? But more importantly, could I make time for something besides racing?
I land myself on the Singapore podium. Second place. Woo-fucking-hoo.
This time the champagne showers don’t feel as fun. The crowd roars but I ignore them, my eyes landing on Maya standing behind a barrier as she cheers Santi on. My eyes stay glued to her for minutes. Her grin falters when she catches me looking at her, but she regains her composure. Jax and I end up spraying champagne on Santi since he impressively won the whole thing. This Prix is a challenge. Humidity is disgustingly high, making it hard for us to race with our heads fully in it. I think I lost at least five pounds after racing today. Not joking, sweat still drips down my back, clinging to my race suit.
Attendants escort us to the press conference after we all have a weight check, an ice bucket bath, and a quick shower. The idea of answering more questions fills me with dread because I’m not in the mood for reporters.
It stuns me to find Maya in her usual corner of the press conference. She gives me a tight smile before Sophie whispers something in her ear, her throat dipping back as she lets out a laugh. Carefree and so damn beautiful. I lick my lips at the sight of her, the hollow part of her neck easily becoming one of my favorite places—to kiss, to touch, to nip.
I’m thankful for the table in front of me because I don’t need that problem on camera today.
Since press conferences can be boring as fuck, I run through my plan for tonight. I can’t skip out on the Singapore after-party Maya mentioned. She glances at me, making my lips tip up into a naughty smile, the first one I’ve given her in a while.
Her eyes widen.
