Red Flag: A Forbidden Sports Romance (StormSprint Book 1) by Evelyne Sperring

Author:Evelyne Sperring [Sperring, Evelyne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-09-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Saliha and I had spent three years at university in London naming each night out: Mojito Mondays, Tequila Tuesdays, WooWoo Wednesdays… all for the excuse of loud music, dancing and time with our friends.

After I stopped drinking after my Dad’s death, I’d lost a few of my friends. Our lives no longer aligned.

I wasn’t against drinking.

I just… hadn’t felt safe any longer.

But I felt safe at StormSprint.

This was my first proper night out with the whole team where I wouldn’t be babysitting. At the beginning of the season, I’d gone out with Nix at every opportunity to keep an eye on him.

I swiftly learned that on nights out with his team, he was actually on his best behaviour.

Some of us girls went on pub crawls in the week, but religiously, the riders only went out on Sundays and Mondays. Every city we went to knew this as well. I didn’t expect clubs to be open on those nights, but they seemed to deliver from the Instagram stories and how my friends came home drunk, swaying and slurring.

The exclusive club in Japan was like a light-up warehouse. There was a pit under the stage full of dancing bodies, arms in the air to the quick beat. We overran the VIP lounge upstairs that oversaw the dance floor.

After necking drinks and multiple shots at the hotel, I shouldn’t have continued. But I did. Saliha and I downed another shot of tequila that tore our throats apart but had us grinning at each other like idiots.

Nix, at my back, put his hand on my shoulder and, when I turned, lowered himself to my eyeline. “Are you okay?”

I nodded as my smile became forced. “Fine and dandy.”

I pushed away from him, over to Frank and Georges at the edge, looking down at the dancers. I focused on them, not wanting to catch the fake-not-so-fake relationship over my shoulder.

That and selling my dad’s things…

I pushed my hair off my shoulders and plastered on a fake smile.

At least half of the riders from the three classes were in attendance. A lot of the mechanics, too. I’d had dinner with people from StormSprint every night — apart from the secret ones with Nix — but it was the first time I had met so many of them. Every single person was lovely and before I knew it, Saliha and I were swooped down the stairs to the dance floor. Frank watched fondly but kept his distance, letting me know he wasn’t a territorial ass.

But then I looked up.

Nix had one arm folded over the barrier, a lit cigarette in his other hand, watching me with narrowed eyes.

The fury in them was more intoxicating than any of the shots.

Drunk me really, really wanted to throw him the finger.

When a hostess climbed the stairs with a sparkling bottle of champagne, I knew it was for Nix and everyone would be up there cheering for him. I knew Clara would hold onto his arm. He’d pour her a glass.

Maybe she’d kiss him.

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