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CHAPTER THREE

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Today Paragon Racing finally announces their pick for their second seat. The team has been shockingly quiet about the announcement, and those of us waiting to know are dying a little!

FORMULA WORLD NEWS

I fiddled with the cuffs of my new racing suit, fighting nerves. This was the most anxious I’d ever been. I’d never felt this way in a race car. Even when I’d been subbed in last season, it hadn’t felt like this.

Because racing was what I did, and everyone loved the story of an underdog. This would be different. Plenty of people would be ecstatic, and plenty would be pissed.

I suspected more would be pissed.

But at least now I could say I’d been smuggled somewhere in the trunk of a car. It felt like becoming a spy with the way they’d devised to get me into Paragon headquarters without tipping off the press.

My grandfather had nearly passed out when I told him. And now he was waiting to watch the explosion with far too much glee. The nurses were going to have trouble on their hands with him today.

Annika poked her head into the dressing room. “Ready?”

No . I mean yes, but also no. Nope. Fuck no.

How could the thing you’d always wanted make you so nervous you wanted to puke? “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

She grinned. “Nope. The ink is dry. You’re locked in, driver.”

I took one last look in the mirror and nodded. “Here we go.”

It felt strange to be walking out in the open after all the measures we’d taken to keep this secret. The press was going to lose their minds. Thankfully, after the press conference my schedule was packed. Photo and video shoots. Meetings to get me up to speed and integrated. Which meant that I wouldn’t be exposed to the press the entire day.

But nothing would ever be the same.

Even now, at the last minute, the rumor mills were going. Paragon was the last to announce their lineup, and pretty much every name in racing had been talked about. From rookies hoping to make the jump from Formula 2 to retired favorites. They even hoped River Daniels would jump ship from Xelerate and join Paragon.

Considering the rest of his pack worked here, I couldn’t exactly blame them for that one.

I’d been mentioned too, but in passing and easily dismissed. Nerves clung to my insides and I shook out my hands.

“You’ve got a flyaway.”

Annika fixed the stray piece of hair, and I pressed my lips together. “God, I’m so nervous.”

“You’ve got this. It’s no different from any other press.”

I snorted. “Bullshit.”

“Right,” she smirked. “But that’s what you’re going to tell yourself. That it’s just another press appearance. You look fabulous. You know exactly what to say. And don’t forget that they came to you. No matter what anyone else says, Paragon wants you here. They chose you for a reason. Own that.”

I swallowed, forcing the tingling, antsy sensation down. She was right. I could do this. Even if I couldn’t, I was out of time. The show was about to go on, and I was part of it.

Snap out of it, Nessa. This is what you’ve always wanted.

Terrified or not, it was time.

We turned the corner backstage and came face to face with an entourage. Through the walls I heard the muffled sound of speaking as the announcement show started. They would reveal this year’s car and us at the same time.

And here was my teammate.

Lars Bachman. Built like a wall, his nearly shaved platinum hair looked good with the uniform, newly designed this year to include Paragon’s signature royal purple in fiery ombre.

He didn’t know either.

Well, now he did.

He glared at me, and his accented voice cut through the quiet stillness backstage. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

I swore I heard a pause from the auditorium in response. Well, fuck.

I’d hoped that even competing against one another we could have an amicable relationship. Based on the look he was currently giving me, any hope of that had just been shattered.

That was fine. I’d done this before.

I squared my shoulders and approached, holding out my hand. “Vanessa Lennon. It’s good to meet you in person.” I hadn’t met most of the drivers currently on the grid. It had been a couple of seasons since I won Formula 2, and this was still a boys’ club.

He didn’t shake my hand. “This is a joke, right?”

“Not a joke. I look forward to working with you.”

Lars scoffed. “Like hell is that happening.” He pushed Alpha energy at me, trying to get me to back down. In his words, like hell was that happening.

I suppressed a groan, feeling the strength of his Alpha. My Omega cowered at the force of it, but I’d been dealing with men and boys like him since I started racing go-karts. I’d long since learned how to push away that instinct. Would probably have to do it a lot more now.

Every second I didn’t back down and admit defeat made more rage build in my teammate. I sensed it in the air.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of his entourage take out his phone and start typing rapidly. The Omega was out of the bag. No more hiding.

The door to the stage opened and a pretty Beta waved us in, ready for us. I smiled at Lars. “Shall we?” The expression on his face was pure animosity. I followed the woman backstage before he could say anything.

She led us to marks on either side of the car on a giant turntable that was already beginning to spin. Some of my nerves twisted into anticipation. This was history, and I was literally living it.

A chipper female voice continued speaking and became clearer as we turned toward the assembled audience and press. “Please give a round of applause for the PR25 car, and of course, the reveal everyone’s been waiting for, our driver lineup for this season. Lars Bachman and Vanessa Lennon!”

Aaaand there was the shocked silence so deep you could hear a pin drop around the world.

Every eye in the room settled on me as the turntable came to a stop. Shock, anger, joy. Every expression and emotion could be seen in this room.

I did the only thing I could do—smile and wave. Polite applause broke out a second later, the sound swelling to cheers that rumbled through the floor. Half the crowd surged to their feet and the other half were still frozen in shock. But it was enough.

Relief flowed through me. If I could get one crowd, I could get the rest of them. Through the blinding flashes from press cameras I could barely see Grayson de Clare approaching, ready to shake my hand. With those fucking forearms on full display, which I shouldn’t be thinking about. Especially now.

But… holy— Yeah, video didn’t do him justice. However hot he’d been on our digital calls, those calls didn’t show how tall he was. Or how built. Way, way more than the other team principals I knew.

And then none of that mattered, because I was enveloped in a scent so good it made me dizzy. Citrus hit me first. Not just citrus. Lime. Lime laced with sweetness. Traces of sugar and warmth that layered beneath the sharpness of the fruit. Another wave of it had my knees wobbling. Holy shit. This was euphoria.

It felt like the scent ran its hands over my body, curving and curling and pulling me close to whisper things in my ear that gave me chills. Thank fuck racing suits were thick enough to contain the way my body was currently responding. Scent cancellers built into the fabric, all the layers hiding the way everything tightened and sharpened.

I’d never smelled anything like this before and I wanted to give up my entire career simply so I could chase that scent and keep breathing. Where was it coming from and where could I get more?

Focus , Nessa .

The lights on the stage suddenly seemed too bright and too hot. I still needed to look like I was holding it together, despite feeling like I’d been body slammed by pleasure and the need to find a key lime pie and literally bury my face in it.

Only seconds had passed and yet it was like I’d experienced a full lifetime, and my head still wasn’t clear. That scent .

Grayson reached me, his hand out to shake mine. As soon as our skin touched, I realized?—

Oh no .

This wasn’t some random scent from the gathered audience or a waft of some really great dessert from the catering table. It was him.

The whole reason his scent now wrapped around me was because he’d approached. One glance at the announcer told me I was the only one experiencing being struck by citrus lightning.

I stared at Grayson, completely unsure of what to do. If I moved, I might leap for him, and that couldn’t happen. I was so fucked right now.

For one eternal moment, time stood still. The next moment his eyes went wide, and for the briefest second his smile dropped from the shock. Yeah, no kidding. I knew the feeling.

My new Team Principal was my scent match.

Fuck.