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When the guysask me to grab a few beers with them after practice, I know I should say no. But do I?
Hell no.
After heading home to shower and change, I pick up one of my best chicks and meet the guys at the Fifth Lounge. Most are already there, sitting around a large high-top table. A few women sit among the men, and pitchers of beer and bottles of wine are already being passed around.
I sit beside Axel after I pull out a chair forIvy. “What’s good?”
“Good racing today, bro. It was fun.” Axel hands me a glass and fills it up with beer. I reach forward for a wine bottle and glass for Ivy, helping her to a drink before reaching for my own.
“Fuck yeah, it was.” I raise my glass to his in a toast, and we both drink.
More team members arrive, andwe all shoot the shit while drinking and eating platefuls of appetizers.
“Yo, Luca,” Wes, another driver on the team, calls out from across the table. His movements are sloppy, and I can tell he’s already had too much to drink. “This morning’s headlines, huh? What did good ole Gary have to say?” The words slur as he sways slightly.
What a dick. Wes is a troublemaker and likes to give the shit pot a big stir. I picture punching him in the mouth. I’d like to see how he feels about that.
Axel nudges me in the side, but I ignore it. “None of your business, actually. Worry about yourself.”
“Whoa.” Wes holds his hands up like he’s the victim or some shit. Honestly, I’m tired of his crap. “I was just asking, relax.”
“And I was just answering.” I finish my third beer and pour another one.
“Reporters love any minor scandal. We all know this,” Axel says.
“They twist crap about all of us,” Derek adds as he tips his head toward me. I’m happy Axel and Derek always have my back. Most of these other guys don’t give a fuck. It’s all about who can make the most money, who can drive the fastest and win the most races, or who can get more women.
I care about that shit, sure. But I’m not such a dick that I start shit wherever I go. Especially with my own teammates.
Maybe in the past, but not now.
My bad rep has followed me for years, and I doubt it’s going awayanytimesoon.
Is it annoying? Fuck yeah. Does it cause problems to this day? Yep. Hence the headlines. I could breathe the wrong way, and there’d be a story the next day. Usually, I ignore it, but when my boss is on my ass and sponsors are threatening to drop me, it pisses me off.
“Maybe,” Wes slurs while looking straight at me. “But Luca lives up to what they say, doesn’t he?” He smirks, and a fire blazes to life inside me.
I stand fast, my chair scattering to the floor in a loudbang.
“What the fuck is your problem, Wes?”
Axel’s on his feet and grabbing my arm as he snaps at Wes. “Cut the shit, man. You’re drunk and running your mouth. Shut up. Otherwise, I’ll let Luca go, and he can beat your ass like we all fucking want to.”
Wes throws his head back and laughs so loud, my anger flares more.
Control it.
Deep breath.
“Let’s go then,” Wes declares as he jumps to his feet. He loses his balance and almost falls backward, grabbing the table for support. This fucker won’t back down.
Axel squeezes my arm harder when I jerk away. “No!” he shouts. “We’re not risking our career tonight. You need to leave, Wes.”
Wes stands his ground. “No, fuck you.”
“Just go, Wes. You’re drunk and being an idiot.”
A security guard appears next to Wes. “Is there a problem over here?”
