Page 9 of Not So Fast
Xander could not get Mia Neal out of his head, no matter how hard he tried, which was really messing with his already disastrous race weekend. He’d gotten a dismal amount of sleep last night after his post-qualifying run-in with her, and now he had to get behind the wheel and drive a race he had zero chance of winning.
“Good luck, Bishop,” Dirk said, strolling into the garage. “I’d say you’re going to need it.”
“Sod off, you bloody git,” Xander muttered under his breath. Several of the mechanics heard it, though, and a few of them snickered.
Dirk whipped around and narrowed his stare on Xander. “Did you say something?”
Xander shrugged. “Me? No. You must be hearing things.”
Dirk approached. “I heard you talked to Mia Neal yesterday. She’s such a lovely woman. We had a fantastic chat.”
Yeah,lovelyhadn’t exactly been Xander’s experience, although there was something about Mia he couldn’t shake. He couldn’t get her brown eyes out of his head. Nor could he forget her voice, probably because she’d employed it in ways he hadn’t expected. He wasnotused to people telling him they were not going to do what he wanted.
“Glad it went well,” he said.
Xander grabbed his helmet and balaclava and finished his preparations before climbing into the car. The pit lane would be open soon so Xander could do his warm-up laps then take his position and wait for the formation lap. For now, he would focus on his race. He had to get to the root of the problems he was having this season, find a way to return to his previous form. Find a way to get back to the way things used to be, when driving was mostly instinct, it all felt so natural and he very rarely made mistakes. Return to a time when he could count on everything falling into place with talent and hard work.
He couldn’t allow his mind to dwell on his problems with Dirk. Nor vexing Mia Neal and her podcast. Not the world’s free-flowing criticism. Just driving.
* * *
Mia wasn’t sure why she was so nervous about the start of the race. Maybe it was because she felt like Mega Racing’s persona non grata after her dustup with Xander yesterday. At least they’d let her back into the paddock today. Even during the formation lap, Mia had a sense that something bad was going to happen. Which was a little ridiculous, because thetruth was that something bad had already happened. She’d pissed off her favorite driver, and she couldn’t see a way back from that. Certainly she’d never have the chance to clear the air with him. She probably shouldn’t have made yet another joke about him driving with his dick in his hand, but it just slipped. She got like that when she felt insulted, and if he hadn’t been so infuriating, dismissing her knowledge and genuine love for the sport, things might have gone differently. Would this be yet another incident she would endlessly mull over? Probably. She could have a zillion new followers and the most successful podcast in history and the interaction with Xander would eat at her. Because she could’ve done better yesterday, and she hadn’t.
* * *
Gripping the wheel, Xander waited for the lights. Reminding himself that today did not define him as a driver. Things would get better. He wouldwillthem to get better. He simply had to work harder. One light lit up, then two. His pulse thundered. Adrenaline seeped into his system. Three lights.You’ve got this.Four. Five.Just drive the fucking car.The lights went out. Xander hit the throttle and jagged left, steering clear of the slower car in front. The car behind him went right up the inside. Xander was squeezed at the corner. He jammed the brakes. Front left tire locked up. Smoke.Crikey.Keep going.Stops and starts. Too much traffic. By the time he’d hit the fourth turn, he was down two spots. The Miami Grand Prix was going to be a slog.
* * *
Dammit.Mia felt sorry for Xander, even though she knew she shouldn’t. His showing was that pitiful. He might have acted like an arrogant ass yesterday, but no one deserved tohave as miserable a race as he was having. Two disastrously slow pit stops. Stuck in a never-ending DRS train, surrounded by other cars going virtually the same speed so that no one could pass anyone. And since there had been zero safety cars, he never had the chance to grab a cheap pit stop or have the cars concertina. It was pathetic. Meanwhile, Dirk had moved up in the order. He crossed the finish line in fourth place. One agonizingly long full minute later, Xander crossed in eighteenth. Maybe it was a good thing she wouldn’t have another chance to talk to him. His bad mood from yesterday was certainly not going to be improved today.
* * *
Xander sat behind the wheel, wanting only one thing—to get the fuck out of there as fast as humanly possible. He wanted to close his eyes and be back home, create some distance from his terrible showing. The only problem with that idea was that he’d still be stuck with himself. He’d be followed by all the doubt that swirled in his head like a cyclone these days. He kept asking himself why… Why did he keep making mistakes? Why, after years of practice and work and sacrifice, couldn’t he get this right anymore?
He had zero answers for himself, so all he could do was get away from this circuit and this city and put the race behind him. He climbed out of the car, kept his helmet on to afford himself some privacy, did his weigh-in, then headed out through the garage. On the way, he was stopped by several members of the Mega Racing team offering condolences.
Hard day, Xander.
We’ll get it sorted.
Next race will be better.
He’d heard all those things before, and he didn’t want thepity. He only wanted to take off the pressure so he could reach his potential. The only trouble was that a good performance was the only way to lessen the pressure. Finally, he broke away and exited the garage, only to spot the second-to-last person he wanted to see—Mia Neal. Inexplicably, she was not with Isabel. As soon as she caught sight of him, she was rushing over.
“Xander. Hi. I’m Mia. Mia Neal. Remember me? The evil podcaster?”
Of course he remembered her. He’d had a devil of a time getting her out of his head. The things she said were sounforgettable. And part of him thought that was all the reason he needed to breeze right past her. But one thing needed to be said.
“You look far better without that Dirk hat on your head.”
“Thanks. It was making my hair do weird things. I’m sorry about today,” she said. “You had some terrible luck.”
He kept going, making a beeline for Mega Racing hospitality. Their one exchange was enough. His only goal now was to get to the airport as quickly as possible. “All good podcast fodder, though. I’m sure you’ll have no problem writing your next episode.”
Mia was nearly jogging alongside him. “It wasn’t you. What happened today.”
He came to a halt and closed his eyes, wishing he didn’t feel the need to set her straight. “Of course it was. I was behind the wheel.”
