Pole Position Read online

  Pole Position

  Commitment 6: A gay romance series

  Karen Botha

  Karen Botha

  Contents

  Hello from London

  1. Elliott

  2. Elliott

  3. Kyle

  4. Elliott

  5. Kyle

  6. Elliott

  7. Kyle

  8. Elliott

  9. Kyle

  10. Elliott

  11. Elliott

  12. Kyle

  13. Kyle

  14. Elliott

  15. Kyle

  16. Kyle

  17. Elliott

  18. Elliott

  19. Kyle

  20. Elliott

  21. Kyle

  22. Elliott

  23. Kyle

  24. Elliott

  25. Elliott

  26. Kyle

  27. Elliott

  28. Kyle

  29. Elliott

  30. Kyle

  31. Elliott

  32. Kyle

  33. Elliott

  34. Kyle

  35. Elliott

  36. Elliott

  37. Kyle

  38. Elliott

  39. Kyle

  40. Elliott

  41. Kyle

  42. Elliott

  43. Elliott

  44. Kyle

  45. Elliott

  46. Elliott

  47. Kyle

  48. Elliott

  49. Kyle

  50. Kyle

  51. Elliott

  52. Kyle

  53. Kyle

  54. Elliott

  55. Kyle

  56. Elliott

  57. Kyle

  58. Elliott

  59. Kyle

  60. Elliott

  61. Kyle

  62. Elliott

  Other books by Karen Botha

  THANKYOU

  63. special thanks

  About the Author

  Hello from London

  Hi everyone,

  You’re still here, thank you so much for loving these two boys as much as I do. But, if this is your first foray into the Commitment series, don’t worry, you’ll be fine, you’ll understand what’s going on as all the stories are standalone, but if you read Buckle Up first, you’ll understand the people a little better.

  Pole Position was sad for me to write, because at this point it is the last in the series. Saying goodbye to the two boys is a tough call for me, but their story can only run so far. Perhaps in time, more adventures will make themselves known, who is to say. This is where they get their true happy ending though, the one they didn’t know they were searching for until it hit them between the eyes.

  As always, here’s my disclaimer, please don’t take Elliott and Kyle’s lives too seriously. If some facts don’t tie in with our lives, what does it matter? These guys have their own universe which is way better than the reality we’re all trying to escape.

  Likewise, this is total fiction, do not for whatever reason think that these guys are based on anyone in motor racing. They are not, they are figment of my imagination, created from pure personal pleasure.

  So, all that’s left is for me to wish you happy reading and I’ll see you on the other side.

  Mwah

  Karen x

  Elliott

  There’s nothing like the buzz of being away for the start of the season’s first race weekend. It’s the noise that I notice first; it maxes out my sound receptors in a way I’m no longer used to as cars are off loaded after their journey overseas, temporary offices, factories and homes are erected and everyone readies themselves for a grueling season ahead.

  I feel the sound rumble through my body as engines kick start and trucks dispatch performance cars, the likes of which racing has never seen on foreign soil. Crews shout and laugh, excited to be back doing what we all love deep within our core.

  But, it’s the smell that transports me back in time. The acrid fumes, the earthy morning dew, being back in the musky camper and on the road again, among the mingling smoke of evening fires and open-air cooking. My insides bubble away like a cauldron concocting a vibrant medicine. One that loads me with optimism.

  It’s been three years since I’ve taken a car around the track in a race situation. The essence of who I am is alive again with the start of this weekend. Every single one of my senses is alive with possibility, not only that I will start to win races, but because in so doing, I’ll be me once more.

  And it’s those smells that take me back to a time when I was winning and make those possibilities tangible.

  My brain has processed the rapid-fire progression of events that got me here today. I know that the team is in place to support everything Judd Racing is striving for and, in turn, I’ve accepted that I don’t need to be at the top of the internal pyramid anymore. Kyle is in fact more than able, but now also ready, to handle whatever the business throws at him as our new, incredibly involved boss man, more commonly known as our Team Principal. And I’ve never been more confident than I am this weekend of jumping inside that cockpit with him on the pit wall, watching my back every step of the way.

  Because, if I’m honest, which I’ve never been with anyone else, not even Kyle, that’s why I’ve taken my time to be back behind the wheel again. That accident was a nasty one, and of course, I defied the odds and walked again when everyone thought I’d struggle. But that’s who I am. As soon as I was told no, I knew my answer would be defiance.

  No, the reason I didn’t want to get back in the car and careen around a slim strip of tarmac faster than any other person alive is because Kyle is the only person I trusted. The accident happened when he wasn’t doing his normal job and so in my mind, my car only broke and I only crashed and my legs only crumbled into a million pieces because Kyle wasn’t in his usual position and unable to look after me.

  But now, Kyle is better placed than he’s ever been to guide me around that circuit, as fast and as safe as possible. The swirling in my stomach is not only from nerves. It’s from processing all the smells, all the sights and sounds, and all of my emotions, and coming out on top.

  Elliott Judd is back.

  Elliott

  We’ve arrived early this morning because I need to take one of the reporters from an international TV station out for a spin on the track. Being lucky enough to have the use of a two-seater performance car, Jon will sit behind me as we whiz around a few laps of the circuit. They’ll cut the piece they film today and drip-feed it into their TV coverage over the weekend, raising our profile and pleasing our sponsors.

  I’m not impressed though; the guy is late. So, here I am, all suited up and ready to go, and he’s not here. Axel and I chat about nothing, like two old pals passing the time until he arrives.

  Jessie said she wasn’t going to tour with us again, but she didn’t need much convincing to come along on our first race back.

  “OK, Elliott, I know what you’re going to say and I’ll come, OK?” She rolled her eyes at me.

  “Brilliant.” That was easier than I expected.

  “But I won’t be there all season. Axel is doing well, so I’ll leave him to his own devices as soon as I’m confident he’s learned enough. I wouldn’t leave you alone for your first weekend though.”

  I lay my arm around her shoulders and give her a quick hug, “Thanks.”

  Despite her protests to the contrary, she did leave us alone while she supports Kyle during his first big press conference. “Can you believe it’s raining?” I mutter to Axel.

  “It’s cold. I thought this was supposed to be a glamorous life?”

  “You thought wrong. The racing calendar itself is pretty tough. We go to a lot of places, but we don’t get to see too much of them. Sometimes, we don
’t even travel in to see the cities where we’re racing. We’re just around the track and then back to the airport. But it’s still fun, believe it or not.”

  We stand, quiet and relaxed in each other’s company. We’re at that stage now, happy to hang out together, the ordeals of the past behind us. I take the opportunity of this calm moment to mull over how I’ll drive.

  It could make for some interesting footage of the popular TV presenter screaming if I push around the bends on the slide. But that kind of behavior could also make me an enemy for life. A very important and influential enemy right at the start of us building our brand. We need the press on board, so I’m more than likely going to drive around this track like an old lady today.

  Ten minutes later the guy shows up, dressed in khaki trousers, which are sure to be stained from the filth on the seat, and with his hair brushed back and gelled in a way that makes me laugh to myself. Not because there’s anything wrong with how he looks right now, but when his helmet has been on for a few laps and he’s sweated a bit, well, I’m expecting a different look from the one he’s sporting at the moment.

  “Hey, I’m sorry I’m late.”

  Well, at least he apologized.

  He holds out a hand. “Bad traffic and I think the taxi got lost on the back roads, avoiding the delay and making us even later.” He shakes his head and not a hair moves. It’s glued into place. Perhaps he’ll look OK when we finish after all.

  “No problem, but I have another appointment, so shall we get going?”

  The camera team is already in place, and Jon does a quick piece introducing what we’re about to do. To be fair, he does it in one take, and it’s impossible to tell that he’s just arrived and should be flustered. He suits up, and we walk to the car together while being filmed joking about how his belly sticks out of his suit.

  “You’ll have to come and do a workout with me,” I suggest.

  Axel perks up at my side, grabbing his phone to make a note and giving me a thumbs up.

  “I might take you up on that, seriously. I’m sure our viewers at home would be interested to see what you put your body through so you can handle one of these monsters.” He directs his comment to the camera following us, rather than me, and I get the distinct impression that our sponsors are going to be delighted. I've already hooked us up with more valuable TV coverage, and that's before we even get into the racing weekend for real.

  “Are you ready for this?” I grin, making sure it’s splitting my face.

  “I’m not sure.” Jon looks nervous, pulling his face in a series of tight lines meant to demonstrate to the audience that he’s regretting what he’s gotten himself involved in, but I’ve been around enough drivers to know the signs. This guy is pumped as he hops into the car. He has no real nerves, only adrenaline.

  “This should be fun.” I nod at the camera, still holding my smile. But it’s more real now. I believe it could be. “Shall we go?”

  I’m already slipping into my seat, and he’s only a second after me, bouncing in behind me, sliding his long legs down the side of my seat as we almost lie in the drive position.

  “Whoa,” he shouts through the speaker we’re both wired up to in our helmets as the engine thunders to life.

  “Let’s go.” I shout, now genuinely excited to be taking this car with Jon in it around the wet track. He does not disappoint. We screech into bends, the back end skidding out to the side. I’m having so much fun that I spin it, misjudging the weight of the unfamiliar chassis. The steering wheel zips off in its own direction, followed shortly after by the car as we rumble over the uneven surface of the grass before launching back onto the track the right way around a few seconds later.

  “Agghhh.” He screams, but he’s laughing. This guy has a taste for racing, and I’m building a relationship here that we’ll take through the season with us.

  The idea is that he’s going to give me an interview. Each time we’re through a bend, he’s supposed to ask a random question that I’m meant to answer in order to show just how good I am at multi-tasking. But, the guy’s so busy whooping and hollering in my ear that we don’t get a question out until we’re on the last straight.

  “So, how does it feel to be back behind the wheel again?”

  That’s it. That’s the limit of his creativity. I guess I did a great job with my drive.

  I laugh. “I think you can pay testament to the fact that I feel great about it, Jon.”

  Once we’re out of the cockpit, we spend about five minutes at the side of the car, running through the question-and-answer section we should have done while careening around the course. But it’s easy. All his questions are fun, and I find that I’ve had a surprisingly good time.

  It’s also nice to have Axel around. When Jessie first suggested leaving the company, I couldn’t see how we’d ever be able to operate without her, but I guess times move on. With Axel here, well, I could find myself shifting seamlessly into a new era.

  As Axel and I leave, we each shake Jon’s hand, “It was good to see you. We’ll do the workout piece,” I say.

  And that’s it. The first interview of the season, the first with Axel by my side, and the first of my new career is complete.

  And so is the first drive.

  Now, I need to take my bike and get us over to watch what is left of Kyle’s press conference.

  Kyle

  Today is the press conference day. I, along with most of the other team principals, am on an interview panel. This will be pushed out on social media around the globe as well as a multitude of international TV stations. I have of course been billed to be interviewed against Chase. Our seats are directly next to each other in the middle of the front row.

  I didn’t expect anything else.

  But still.

  Chase, four other team managers, and I will sit in a room and answer a round of quick-fire questions of which an official interrogator would be proud. Journalists shoot at us from fire-breathing, machine-gun mouths, such is their wrath. This isn’t the friendly bunch that does the one-on-one interviews like the one Elliott is conducting this morning. These are the hard-nosed guys who will ask the awkward questions that no one else will.

  And of course, it’s no surprise that Chase and I are seated next to each other on the panel.

  “Just stick to your line. Show no bitterness and only a passion for racing. But you know all of this, you’ve got this nailed.” Jessie pumps my arm as I stand in the wings, shitting my pants.

  “Here we go then!” I sigh, tossing her a tight smile before marching, head down, toward my seat. This has to be the worst part of my job.

  When Chase appears on the opposite side of Jessie, his face is set in apathy. But he’s trying too hard. He forgets that I’ve worked with him for long enough to know that he understands the importance of press conferences; there is no way on this earth he’s unconcerned about how today will go. For starters, it’s the first conference of the season, and this will set the tone of what is to come.

  That’s before you start with the obvious stand-off the press is looking to create between the two of us.

  He’s overplayed his hand. And that knowledge drives a confidence through my spine, making me sit tall with pride.

  The questions start out easy, asking about what we’ve all been up to in the down season and how we’ve been preparing our new cars. The same old, same old.

  And then it comes. The killer question that everyone has been waiting for. “Chase, tell us your thoughts on having Judd Racing pitting against you this year.”

  Chase: “I don’t have any thoughts about it. It’s a new team in the paddock; it happens in a lot of years. It’s great that the sport can support another small team.

  Ooh, that’s a low blow, but I can’t contain the smirk that creeps across my face.

  Reporter: A small team that has effectively been funded by you.

  Chase remains steadfast, refusing to answer.

  The reporter forces her point. �
�Would you care to answer?”

  Chase: If you asked a question, I could answer, but you have not asked anything.

  His tone bristles and despite everything that has passed between us, I love that he’s playing them.

  Reporter: Oh, I’m sorry, excuse me. Let me rephrase for you. How does it make you feel to have another team on the grid that wouldn’t be here had you not lost the court case that Elliott Judd brought against you, the proceeds of which funded it?

  Before Chase has an answer, I decide to open my mouth, “If I may answer this please, Chase?” I look to my previous boss, and he gestures with his hand that I may go ahead. My mouth starts to speak again, without any control from my brain; it just runs of its own accord.

  “Thanks,” I say. “Elliott Judd won a court case. That’s no secret, but all that is ancient history. Judd Racing is here because of a passion for motor sports, purely and simply. Sure it needs funding, but like every other contingent in the paddock, we have sponsors.”

  I think I just turned the attention well and truly onto me, and my heart rate is certain of it. The heat of the camera’s lights eats through my team shirt as a bead of sweat pops onto my forehead. I could have just made the biggest mistake of my professional career, and I managed to make it with the first words out of my mouth.