Page 3 of Drive Me Wild (Drive Me #2)

THREE

JOSIE

Blake and Theo’s race weekends are planned down to the minute. Press conferences, strategy sessions with team management, time in the garage, practices, media interviews, meeting their fans. If something runs late or needs to get moved around, it throws everything else off.

That’s why I’m desperately trying to get them back on track as we film content for our YouTube channel. I don’t want to be the reason Blake’s late for an interview or Theo misses a meet and greet. Or God forbid they’re late for lunch, which is the one free hour they have to themselves to decompress. I always try to schedule more time than I think I’ll need given Theo’s tendency to get sidetracked by anything and everything and Blake’s habit of grumbling.

“Name the two chicanes at Monza,” I say for the third time in a row, not bothering to hide the annoyance in my voice. I’d usually have one of the guys explain what a chicane is—a tight succession of corners in alternating directions—but it’ll be a miracle if I can even get them to play the game.

Neither of them respond; they’re discussing a Porsche driver’s performance during the first practice of the day. I walk up to the table positioned in front of their chairs and smack the buzzer resting on it. The loud noise stuns them both quiet. Finally . I’m one of the only people who has the patience to deal with Blake and Theo for long-form content, which is why I tend to handle all things video-related.

“Now that I have your attention,” I say sweetly, placing my hands on my hips. “Can one of you name the two chicanes at the Monza Grand Prix?”

Blake slams the buzzer before Theo even registers the question. There’s no way in hell Blake knows what the chicanes are called. Most drivers know the breakdown of the circuit by numbers—second chicane, third straight, first corner. Theo’s one of the few drivers who knows everything by its actual name. It’s rather impressive.

I wave my hand to indicate Blake can give his response. “Okay, first we’ve got chicane one, which is…” His voice trails off as he tries to come up with an answer.

“Variante del Rettifilo,” Theo supplies. He doesn’t bother hiding his enjoyment at having the upper hand. They may be best mates, but if there’s a chance to show off or outdo one another, they’re going to take advantage of it.

“Which is what I was going to say if you had given me more than five seconds to answer.” Blake narrows his eyes at his driving partner. “And your Italian accent is rubbish.”

Theo shrugs. “The second chicane is Variante Ascari, although I’m sure you knew that, too, right, Blake?”

“Sod off,” Blake retorts, glaring at Theo.

I groan into my hands. We’re going to be here all afternoon if they keep this up. Theo and Blake get into a heated discussion about what the chicanes at other Grand Prix tracks are called, so I take my phone out to answer some emails in the meantime.

My stomach tightens when I see a new text from Andrew.

Andrew Caffrey

Hey! Just wanted to say good luck at the first Grand Prix.

Whose ex is nice to them when they’re blindsided by a breakup after a two-and-a-half-year relationship? Mine, that’s who. Guilt rolls through me in crashing waves. The issue is that Andrew didn’t do anything wrong. He didn’t cheat on me, there was no type of abuse; we didn’t have some explosive fight that made us crash and burn.

I just couldn’t be in a relationship where I stopped having a life outside of it. So much of me was tied up in us that I stopped listening to my needs and only focused on his. I didn’t know how to be independent while still allowing myself to depend on him. I forgot who I was.

My fingers hover over my screen as I debate whether to answer. Guilt gains the upper hand, and I type out a quick response.

Josie Bancroft

Thanks. I appreciate it!

“Jos.” Theo’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. I glance over just in time to see him lean back in his chair, the hem of his shirt lifting to reveal a happy trail and toned stomach. “You look stressed.”

I slip my phone into my back pocket and paste on a happy face. “All good, babes.”

Theo shoots me a movie-star smile. “I’ve offered before, and I’ll offer it again, but I’m more than willing to help you relieve that stress with a good old-fashioned fu?—”

He’s cut off as Blake smacks him on the back of the head. I’m an only child, but if I ever had an older brother, I’d want it to be Blake. He’s overprotective to a fault. I appreciate it, although any man within three meters of Ella probably does not.

“Not happening, Walker.” I laugh lightly, ignoring the way his arm muscles flex against his shirt. “I’m not looking to get emotionally entangled with anyone right now, thank you very much.”

“Emotions?” Theo releases a deep laugh that sends goosebumps up my arm. “Orgasms only, baby girl. Just pure, raw sex. That’s the Theo Walker promise.”

Blake groans loudly and lays his head on the table. “I promise to knock you out if you don’t shut the bloody hell up.”

Theo’s face twists up in disgust. “Do you know how many germs are on that table, mate? Do you know the last time this thing was cleaned? Probably in the nineties.”

For someone who’s made out with half of the female population, he’s surprisingly germ-adverse . We only have forty-five more minutes before lunch and Theo acting like he’s the president of the Department of Health isn’t helping speed things along.

“Focus, please,” I say while snapping my fingers like I’m in a musical production. “Next question.”

We’re wrapping up when my coworker Wes waltzes in. Her bleach blonde hair is tied in double buns and freckles dance across her high cheekbones. Blake glares at me as if I’ve committed some huge act of betrayal by allowing her to enter the room. Wes is brilliant but after a not-so-fun incident last year involving an exploding can of LaCroix, a German sausage, and the phrase “the devil’s twin brother” being thrown around, the two of them rarely work together.

I ignore him and greet her with a warm smile. “Hi, Wes.”

“‘Ello,” she replies, her Essex accent giving her already melodious voice a slight lilt. “How goes it?”

“Oh, just lovely.” I look toward the door, where Theo and Blake elbow one another to leave the room and get to the cafeteria first. “How was your meeting?”

“Well, it was in Teamwork, if that’s any indication.” Wes snorts and rolls her baby blue eyes. “Did you see the TikTok AlphaVite made?’”

“Yes.” I sigh begrudgingly as we head downstairs to grab lunch. “It’s trending.”

If I sound bitter, it’s because I am. I may have gotten McAllister over twenty-five million views on TikTok last year, but then I was told we should spend our energy and budget on other platforms. Management simply sees the numbers, and right now, the numbers are great. No need to fix what isn’t broken and all that bullshit. If Thomas Edison didn’t experiment with carbon filament, we’d still be using candles instead of light bulbs. But what do I know, right?

“Just means we have to work harder to drive innovation ,” she says, mimicking McAllister’s tagline. “Although the only thing I’ll be driving is a pen into my eye if I have to hear Rhys say that one more time.”

I grin at her as we enter the cafeteria. Nearly every seat is filled with bodies wearing McAllister’s cherry-red color, each side conversation louder than the next. The one person wearing blue sticks out a like a sore thumb—even more so because their shirt boasts the lightning-looking logo of AlphaVite, one of McAllister’s biggest competitors.

“Grab us a table?” I ask Wes, nodding toward the door of the motorhome. “Gonna go say hi.”

I weave my way through engineers and mechanics holding trays of sandwiches and salads and sidle up next to Lucas.

“Staking out enemy territory?” I tease.

Lucas Adler’s three-musketeer status with Blake and Theo is the only reason him being here isn’t raising any red flags. No one so much as bats an eye when he wanders in looking for his friends. If Everest—another top Formula 1 team—driver Harry Thompson walked in on the other hand… that’d be reason to worry.

“Ah, my favorite McAllister employee.” Lucas’s olive-green eyes twinkle with amusement. “Although don’t tell Dumb and Dumber.”

I laugh at his nicknames for the McAllister drivers and pull him in for a quick hug. “How was your winter break? You went back to Boston, right?”

The opening lines to “Boston” slip out before I can even consider stopping them.

He chuckles and runs a ring-clad hand through his dark blonde locks, which have the obnoxiously perfect amount of volume. “For a bit, but then I went to Monaco. How are things with you? Blake said you’ve been helping Ella out with her podcast.”

“Mm-hmm. It’s been a lot of fun. The most fun I’ve had working in a while, actually.” A dash of color flushes my cheeks at my admission. “Not that working for McAllister isn’t fun, but Blake and Theo are like drunken toddlers who need constant care and attention. Can get a bit exhausting, you know?”

Lucas chuckles before taking a sip of his water. “Oh, I know. Theo called me at three a.m. for Tums because he ate one too many shrimp cocktails at the party last night.”

Yep. That sounds about right. I roll my eyes at Theo’s predictability. “He eats those things like he’s never seen food before in his life. I don’t know how many times I have to remind him that his mouth isn’t a vacuum.”

“It’s Theo,” Lucas says simply. “He’s… well, he’s him.”

“Amen to that.” I tap my McAllister-branded water bottle against his AlphaVite one. “But yeah, it’s been nice to change things up a bit. Learned more about your beloved American baseball than I ever wanted to, but I’ll survive.”

“Are you interested in freelancing?” Lucas asks with a head tilt. “A buddy of mine is looking for a marketing consultant. I can name-drop you if you’re interested.”

“Oh,” I state dumbly. “Um… maybe? I haven’t really given it a thought outside of Coffee with Champions . And that’s technically not even freelancing because I’m not being paid. Not that Ella won’t pay me, she’s insisting on it, but I’m not about to take money for helping her with something I genuinely enjoy doing, you know? I want to see her succeed. She can pay me in pints of ice cream or jugs of iced coffee. I’m easy. Not like sexually easy. I mean, I’ve had a one-night stand before, but I’m not like putting up posters advertising my tits. But no judgement if that’s what people do, or want to do. Free the nips, right? I, uh… meant easy as in go with the flow.”

I exhale sharply to catch my breath. “And I’m going to stop talking now. Thank you for attending my TED Talk.”

He waves off my mortification with an affectionate grin. “Ah, how I missed your long-winded tangents, Jos. I’ll keep you posted once he starts seriously looking for someone, though. I?—”

His voice falters and I follow his gaze to find Theo and Blake walking into the cafeteria. Theo’s hitting Blake’s arm repeatedly with a can of sour cream and onion Pringles… that his hand is stuck in.

Let the season begin .