Chapter 4

It was the first time I’d seen NixonArmasin almost a month. Since the day ofAlv’saccident.

In the flesh, anyway.

He’d followed my instructions and kept out of trouble only because he hadn’t left his house for anything other than to have the cast on his arm removed and to answer questions for the inquiry into the accident.

And I was grateful because the media storm that came with the crash andAlv’scomatose condition in intensive care had taken a lot of time to cover.

At theCiclatioffices in Portugal, Nix wasn’t wearing his leathers but instead gym gear. Black shorts and a top. His arm was slightly paler from where he’d had the cast. He’d shaved.

Somehow, he was more attractive out of the leathers. And without the facial hair.

He hardly noticed me, his eyes sunken and looking down at the ground as we spoke around the conference table.

“Due to the circumstances, we’re promoting you to rider one, Nix,”Crissaid.

Nixon didn’t react. His manager at his side nodded, writing down in his notebook.

“We’ve contacted several riders fromSprint2andMotoBike to fill the position of rider two for a season contract.”

Everyone waited with bated breath. There was only one name people were interested in. The only name that felt right.

“LucaMendes has been honoured with our interest,”Criscontinued. “Olivia, you said the press has already pushed the idea?”

“The day we released the statement ofAlvaro’scondition, three articles said as much.Lucahas a large following, all rooting for him to stand in for his cousin. The family link and familiar personality seem to make him the only appropriate temporary replacement out there,” I said, careful to mention it wasn’t long-term. “I fear what would happen if you didn’t sign him.”

Crisnodded, and there were comments around the table in agreement, but everyone looked to Don, the director ofCiclati,Cris’ boss.

“We were already eyeing him up for next year whenAlvwas going to retire,” one of the men said. “It makes sense.”

Nixon’s head snapped up, eyes wide and questioning as he looked from the man toCrisand back.

He hadn’t known.

He hadn’t knownAlvwas going to retire.

“Okay,”Crissaid, communicating with Don with a long glance and nod. “Okay, we’ll contactLucashortly. A draft contract has already been made for negotiation.”

Before they started discussing salaries, grave nods were across the board, and I mentally checked out. Nix sat back in his chair, twiddling a pen over and over, clicking it obnoxiously. WheneverAlvwas mentioned, the clicking increased, and though people glanced towards him, no one said anything, though his manager nudged him with an elbow .

“Anything else?” Don asked the group.

“We have the new shoot for the opening sequence,” I said, leaning forward to grasp the attention of all the men that surrounded me. “All riders have agreed to join for the group shot. AsAlvis in the centre of it, the whole thing needs to be reshot. It’s set for next Tuesday, seeing as we’ve pushed back the first race.”

Nixon glowered.

“All potential riders are aware,” Cris added.

“Once the contract is signed, I’ll set up an interview and a live stream.”

“Good,” Don said. “Thanks, Olivia. Please keepAlvin the posts where you can. We want to keep him in people’s prayers. We don’t want anyone to think he has been… forgotten.”

Nix’s side glance could have set the room on fire.

“On it,” I agreed. I already had a video of his first-ever championship win drafted on our social media accounts.

“Right,”Crissaid and clapped his hands together. “I say we take a break. We’ll contactLucanow and get back to everyone once we’re done.”

Food was provided in the fancyCiclatibuilding. It was made of floor-to-ceiling glass windows along the outer edge, which meant I could see my cautious reflection as I wondered where to sit in the canteen. I chewed so hard on my bottom lip that I didn’t doubt I had scraped off all of my lipstick.

There were several tables, a sprinkle of people sitting across them, all in deep conversation or laughter.

WithoutSaliha, it was just me and my vegetableorzo. And my phone.

My Instagram had taken off in the last few months seeing as I’d had nothing else to focus on since being unemployed. Some sponsors even contacted me about my fashion posts.

I’d ignored them all. That wasn’t my job. It was just some fun.

It had been ironic that I was posting ‘work attire’ from my sofa, wearing nothing but a hooded dressing gown I hadn’t removed for three days.

But when I looked up from my phone, I couldn’t help but sigh at all the clear friendships across the room.

Throughout school, university, and all my previous jobs, I had never struggled to make friends. But I had never worked in such a male-dominated industry before.

I whizzed off a text to my brother as I sat at an empty table.

LIVIE: How do I talk to men?

He replied instantly.

BEN: At work? With your legs closed.

I rolled my eyes, leaning further over my phone so no one could see.

LIVIE: Yes, at work. But what do I talk to them about?

BEN: Bikes? Upcoming season? Instagram algorithm? Think of them just as women with dicks. What’s got into you?

He was right. This wasn’t who I was.

The chair next to mine scraped back. “I can’t do next Tuesday,” Nix said gruffly, shoving his plate of food on the table.

Nixon Armas was sitting by me.

“Why can’t you? I emailed your manager. I emailed every manager of every rider. Twenty-four riders. At least fifty people needed to be free that day and your manager said you were.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Why aren’t you? What could you possibly have to do? ”

“Stuff,” he said around a mouthful of food.

“No,” I said, turning my chair to face him properly. “You’re free. You’re going to make it work. It’s too important not to.”

“My flight won’t get there in time.”

“I don’t want to be a prick,” I started, unsure if that was necessarily true, “but if you’re not going to show, I’ll tellCrisright now. We can’t have footage of every team together butCiclati. Especially when he’s why we’re doing the whole shoot.”

“I can’t make it,” he shrugged, mouth full.

“So you, as the reigning champion ofStormSprint, just won’t be in the opening sequence?”

“They have footage of me already,” he said, voice low as if bored.

“Yeah, and I’ve seen it,” I snapped. “You look as stiff as a board. Miserable. I wouldn’t be rooting for you if I saw that grumpy face on my screen.”

“It’s called being professional,” he countered.

“Try and have a personality,Armas,” I groaned and stabbed myorzo. “You’ll put those good looks to waste if you just look like a misery.”

He grunted. “If you want someone to grin and be a dork, then you have the right idea pushing to getLucaMendes on the team.”

“Pushing?”

He cleared his throat before putting on the most awful mocking female, British voice. “I fear what would happen if you didn’t sign him.LucaMendes is the only option.” As I stared at him, he shoved a forkful of food in his mouth. “You got a little crush?” he asked, giving me a bashful grin.

Maybe I did have a little crush .

But it wasn’t onLuca. Unfortunately, it was on Nix’s stupidly attractive face.

“Am I really having to tell you a second time that I don’t fuck my clients?” I hissed. “If I did have a crush, I would be pushing for him not to get signed. Then I could go there.”

“You could go there anyway,” he protested. “A secret fuck never hurt anyone, as long as it stays secret.”

I was not blushing. I refused to blush.

I ate myorzoin an angry silence.

Our bicker didn’t seem to bother him. He shovelled the food in his mouth, nodding at those that passed us.

“You’re there on Tuesday,” I demanded, dropping my fork on the empty plate. “I’m arranging a meeting for the two of us.Luca, too. We’ll discuss your interview with Road Racing League and your social media profiles. Bring some photos ofZig.”

I still couldn’t get over the fact he had a snake.

“Or better yet, the fluffy things you feed her.”

“Sounds a bit gruesome for you. Didn’t take you for—”

“ Alive , Armas.”

“Oh.” He frowned as if he was genuinely confused by such an obvious statement. “Well, I can show you pictures of her now—”

My chair screeched as I pushed it back, done with my food. “Get an earlier flight, charter a plane. I don’t care. Just be there.”

As I turned, he stopped me, gripping my wrist. He looked up at me with his dark blue eyes. “What do I get in return?”

He was touching me, his hold warm and tight. And still.

“You get my gratitude.” I guessed. Though, it was the bare minimum. It was the expectation. Nothing to be thankful for when I was the one who had gone above my pay grade to arrange all of this.

“Do I get to do something with this gratitude?” A smirk fought for the surface.

“I said gratitude, not a favour.”

“Shame,” he said, finally letting me go and returning to his food.

I scanned the room to see some members ofCiclatilooking over. I placed my tray back on the table and sat beside him with a sigh. “What is it that you want?”

He shrugged again. “Not sure yet,” he said, mouth full as he got his phone out of his back pocket. “I’ll think of something eventually.”

“I’m not selling my soul.”

He ignored me, loading up his photo app and leaning over to show me. “This isZig,” he said with a smile.

On his screen, hiding between two dark rocks, was the most fluorescent lime-green snake I had ever seen. Its yellow eyes glared at me through the glass, raging and ready to strike. In the next photo,Zigwas coiled, looking just as angry.

“Does she always look like that?” I asked, shuffling closer.

I wasn’t scared of snakes. Or… I didn’t think I was.

I was definitely a fluff-over-scales kind of girl.

“Beautiful?”

“No,” I said and gave him a dull look. “Furious.”

He chuckled, looking down at his pet with love as he swiped to another photo. “Nah, she’s happy as hell in this one. Just had her first rat in two weeks. When I’m gone, my mum feeds her too much. Every winter, she has a little diet.”

And, against my better judgement, I sat there smiling along.

Until he swiped again, distracted as he nodded at one of the workers who waved his way.

He didn’t notice the picture he was showing me until it was too late.

Most of his screen was grey, his legs in his jogging bottoms. The main focus was the clear outline of his cock, thick andgirthydown his thigh.

The air left my lungs as I choked on the syllables I tried to turn into words, which instead became a fit of giggles.

He locked the phone, only to show yet another picture of his snake as his background. The reptile kind.

“That wasn’t the snake I was expecting,” I coughed, pursing my lips together as I tried to stop laughing.

He looked down at me and I half expected him to storm off, shut me down or tell me to fuck off. But he was grinning, trying to stop himself from laughing too.

“You’re actually funny,” he complimented. “I didn’t expect that.”

“You’re actually not a complete dick,” I countered. “I didn’t expect that.”

And whenCriscame to Nix’s shoulder, we were both smiling at each other. AsCristapped him, he didn’t respond for a second, though his smile faltered. “I’ll see you Tuesday, Olivia.”

Thank god.

And as I got up to leave,Cristold him, “Lucahas signed a contract.”