[**ON HIATUS**]
Noah Wood is a Mercedes driver. Scrappy, charming, and far too handsome, Noah is one of the best drivers on the grid. But a newcomer is threatening to steal his seat, and Noah must win this year's Grand Prix - or risk being booted ou...
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This, Noah Wood thought, was an awfully inconvenient time for a phone call.
He peered over the edge of the plane. Open air stretched out below him, broken only by milk-white clouds, half-dissolved into the teacup sky. Noah shifted. His harness was digging into his thigh, and the buzzing of his phone wasn't helping the situation. The noise stopped, and he breathed out a sigh of relief.
Then it started again.
"Are you going to get that?" Matthew asked.
His best mate was sitting beside him, his long legs dangling over the edge. Wind ruffled his blond hair. He could have been an advert for Lonely Planet, Noah thought, if Lonely Planet liked churros and had a sarcastic and brooding personality.
Noah waved a hand. "It can wait."
Matthew raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"
"I'm amazed we even get reception up here."
"Excellent customer service," Matthew said. "In fact, I really ought to leave a TripAdvisor review. Five stars for ensuring that you can ring the funeral home right before you jump out of the moving—"
Noah's phone rang again. Matthew pulled a face.
"For fuck's sake, Wood." His voice was exasperated. "Just take the call."
Noah shoved the phone deeper into his pocket. "I'll call her back."
"Who is it?"
Noah shrugged. "Probably Holly."
He could see Matthew doing the mental calculations. Trying to place the name. "Is that the dressage rider?"
"Showjumper," Noah corrected him.
Matthew leaned back on his elbows. "I thought you broke things off."
"I did."
He'd had a conversation with Holly just last week, actually, which had ended with her pelting him with bits of Dragon Roll and storming out of his flat. Damn shame, too, Noah thought; that sushi had been delicious. Matthew sighed.
"You've just reminded me," he said. "I still owe Isla a fiver."
Incredulity filled him. "You bet on my dating life?"
"Not very well, apparently," Matthew said glumly.
Noah went to give him a shove, and then glanced at the steep drop. He was weighing up whether it was worth risking Matthew's life when his phone rang again. Matthew sat up, pulling a face.
"Answer it, Wood," he said. "Or I'm throwing your phone out of this goddamn plane."
Noah dug in his pocket. "I'll just put it on silent. One moment—" He broke off, taking in the name on the screen. "Oh. Shit."
"Who is it?" Matthew asked.
"Mum." His stomach tightened. "I should take this."
Had to take it, Noah thought grimly; he'd never been able to ignore his family's calls. Not when he was always waiting for that one phone call. The one piece of news that would change everything. He was dreading that phone call.
