Page 73 of Dirty Air
He looks exactly like how Fritz felt that day in the Red Boar garage. When the pressure seemed insurmountable. When all of his accomplishments felt like he was only taking credit for other people’s work—forHenry’swork.
“I don’t deserve my contract either.”
“That’s different.” Henry throws himself back with a flourish and he nearly bounces on the mattress. “You just have imposter syndrome. I actually am an imposter.”
Fritz lays back as well. He turns to face him, but Henry continues to stare ahead, at the empty ceiling. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yes, okay.” Fritz repeats. “I did not make a single point last year—it was like my formation lap. You only had a couple of races last year, that was your formation lap.”
“Sure, if you want to put it that way.”
“I do.” Fritz is completely serious, and he stares at the side of Henry’s head until the older man turns to look at him. “That does not change our success. We are the only race engineer and driver to win in a VFIBR. That does not happen by accident.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Right. So maybe we are on the same level.” Fritz tries to shrug with nonchalance, but it’s scary to face the unknown alongside someone who also doesn’t know what to expect. “Maybe Isuck without you. Maybe you suck without me. But—you have to admit—together we do not suck. The data says so.”
Henry stares back at him with a blank expression until the corner of his mouth pulls up. “Together we do not suck.”
“Except, perhaps,” Fritz adds, with a hush. “In the shower.”
Henry groans, throwing an arm over his face. A smile is still peeking through, though. “God, that was the sexiest thing I haveeverseen. Ever been a part of. I still think about it.”
“You still—?” Fritz gapes. “Then why did we stop?”
“God, not tonight. You’re going to think it’s so stupid.”
“It probably will be stupid any night.” Anything that keeps them apart is stupid.
Henry laughs, but when he looks at Fritz, his eyes are full of fondness. “I tried to push you away so you’d have a better chance at finding a good team. I didn’t want you to think of me—to tie yourself to the Red Boar ladder for the next five to eight years—because of what we had. When Sven approached you, I had to let you go.”
“You are right.” How obnoxious. “That was a very stupid thing to decide on your own.”
“Yeah, I know.” Henry sighs. “One day you’re going to realize I'm not as smart as the data makes me seem.”
“But I had already asked Sven to hire you by then.”
“Jesus, that long ago?!Why?”
“I do not want to race without you.” Fritz’s eyes dip down to Henry’s mouth and back up again. “I knew even then.”
Henry’s eyes darken. “C’mere.”
Fritz forgets how strong Henry is until he’s manhandled—pulled by the hip until he rolls. Fritz instinctively throws a leg over and straddles the older man.
One of Henry’s hands settles on Fritz’s waist, the other cradles his face, drawing him closer until the driver hovers over him, just centimeters away.
“Do you still want this?” Henry whispers, his breath playing on Fritz’s lips. “Even now? After everything?”
Fritz swallows, though his throat feels dry. “You know I do.”
“That contract is too good for me.”
“I do not care,” Fritz huffs. “The only thing that matters is that I want you. We are good together. World Champions.”
Henry surges up and finally closes the gap.
