CHAPTER 24 - SUGAR FREE LOLLIPOP
sugar free lollipop
CHAPTER twenty-four
Losing weight was easier now that David knew how to hide it. Not that it helped his race results—the next two races were like a nightmare playing on repeat with different backdrops. David managed sixth in Toronto, but nothing hurt like no points in Nashville. Nashville was his sacred place—the place where he first kissed Noah. Even last year, when they weren’t together during the race weekend, David felt a bit of magic as he drove around the Nashville streets.
Not this year. This year, David woke up in the middle of the night to puke up his dinner in the hotel toilet. He learned how to drape toilet paper over the surface of the water to stop the sound of splashing and how to silence the sound of his retching. All he had to do was imagine his father holding a baseball bat, standing outside.
David looked up at the buzzing lights above where he and Noah sat in plastic chairs. Noah’s wrist doctor—David didn’t remember his real title or how to pronounce it—was supposedly one of the best in the country, but he couldn’t afford decent lighting in his clinic. Today was Noah’s checkup that would determine the rest of his racing career, and they didn’t even have good lighting. David fought the urge to say something about it, and a tickle started up in the back of his throat that he quickly stopped by clearing it.
He threw up multiple times a day now, and it was working like a charm. Noah was thrilled that he was eating full breakfasts and dinners, and Hugh commented on how David’s times were improving each race.
The weight came off like nothing. He was back to the weight he’d been before Noah made him eat meals with him. Ten more pounds, and he would hit his goal weight.
It helped that Noah had to spend more time with Cobalt. Finlay and Evan were leading the championship by a wider margin each race, and Jenson politely but firmly asked that Noah return to Colorado to help. It had been almost two weeks since Nashville and David kept up his end of the deal—no going longer than two weeks without seeing each other.
Noah bounced his leg beside him, tapping out a beat on his thigh. David rarely saw him nervous about his own health—he was always fussing over David’s.
“You have nothing to be nervous about,” David soothed, rubbing his back. “I know it’ll be good news.”
Noah gave him a half-hearted smile and turned his attention back to the door. “I bet this is what Caroline feels like.”
Caroline’s baby bump was more of a baby watermelon now. She’d ballooned over the past few weeks and sent David pictures every morning that ranged from her looking miserable to glowing. Her main cravings were American cereal, carrots, and saltines. She said she couldn’t go anywhere without keeping tabs on the bathroom because their son liked to press on her bladder. She joked that it was probably like a pillow for him.
“I’m okay no matter what the doc says,” Noah added, taking his hand. “I’ve already prepared for not being able to drive anymore, so don’t worry.”
David shook his head, conscious of how close Noah was to his face. “I’m not worried. I know you’ll be able to drive again.”
The only downside to throwing up was becoming paranoid about smelling like vomit. David washed his mouth out religiously each time he emptied his stomach and made sure to chew gum throughout the day just in case. His throat hurt most days, but it was worth a little pain to keep everyone happy.
Noah kissed his temple. “Thanks for flying out here, by the way.”
“Of course,” David murmured, capturing his lips for a proper kiss. “I’m here for you, Noah. Always.”
A knock sounded at the door, and Noah took a shaky breath. David squeezed his hand as the doctor stepped in, holding a clipboard.
“What’s the damage?” Noah asked, bulldozing past the tension like he always did.
The doctor smiled. “No damage, actually,” he said. “You’re healing perfectly. I think introducing the red light therapy has really helped lessen the scarring and inflammation. I don’t think I’ve seen an injury like this heal so well.”
David beamed. “See? Told you.”
Noah let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god. I was worried I had another six months of this shit.”
The doctor chuckled. He was a stocky guy with a salt-and-pepper beard—he looked like he could have been a bodybuilder in his youth. Judging by all the wrestling memorabilia around his clinic, David assumed he had some kind of connection to it beyond clients.
“You’re not completely there yet,” the doctor warned, “but I feel confident that you’ll be able to test during summer break. If that goes well, I can sign off on you getting back into the car.”
Noah smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. David knew why. Evan had been doing a fantastic job for the team so far. He’d won twice in three races, and Finlay picked up the other win. Noah would have to prove himself right out of the gate. It wasn’t fair, but that was racing.
“That’s great,” David said. “What about the simulator?”
The doctor winked at him. “Ever the race car driver, beating me to the punch. I’m happy to sign off on starting simulator sessions. Start with low force feedback, of course, and if there’s any pain, call me immediately.”
“Really?” Noah’s mouth dropped open. “I can start driving in the sim?”
David kissed his shoulder, delighted. Noah deserved this. He deserved wins, too. Time in the simulator would give him the confidence boost he needed to win once he got back in the car.
Pain suddenly shot up from his stomach, a blade drawing up his throat. David shifted uncomfortably, but there was no bile. He called them phantom pains. If he wasn’t careful, they made him have to throw up. Well, only once, but it happened during a simulator session, and he had to get out and sprint to the bathroom to make it in time.
“We should celebrate,” David said, rubbing Noah’s bicep. “Want me to call Finlay and organize something?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Noah said with a kiss to his cheek. “I have to call Jenson first. Actually, I should probably do that with the doc.”
That was his cue to leave. David gave Noah a squeeze and stood. “I’ll be outside.”
“Thanks, babe. Love you,” Noah said, blowing him a kiss.
David laughed and stepped out into the hallway. A scale sat at the end of the hall. Scales didn’t scare him anymore—not since he’d been shedding weight like clockwork.
He decided to call Caroline. It was evening in France, but she picked up right away.
“Hello, David,” she answered. “I didn’t expect a call from you today.”
“I’m at the doctor with Noah,” David explained. “They’re talking about Cobalt stuff, so I have some time. I wanted to check in on you and the baby.”
“We’re good,” Caroline said. She sounded tired. “I feel so fat. Really, it feels silly to waddle around. I’m like a walrus.”
David laughed. “You are not. You’re carrying a person; you’re allowed to waddle.”
Caroline let out a dramatic sigh. “You can say that because you haven’t seen it. It is very pathetic.”
David tried to imagine it, but every time he visualized Caroline, she was the same size as she’d been when they were at the ultrasound in Los Angeles. He’d seen plenty of pictures and videos of her, but it wasn’t the same as seeing her in person.
“I’ve been thinking,” Caroline said after a brief silence. “What about Pierre for his name?”
Pierre. David sounded out the name on his tongue, surprised that his German accent didn’t butcher it. “Pierre,” he said aloud. “Why that name?”
“I like the sound. But it means rock, like a foundation. It’s a strong name.”
Whenever David thought of their son, he thought of softness and sunshine. He could only think about being gentle with a baby in his arms, but he supposed that baby would grow up to be a man some day, and a strong name would suit him.
“I like Pierre,” he said. “Let me think about it.”
He knew he didn’t have the right to shoot down a name, but at least Caroline let him think he did.
“I’ll think about it, too. My father says we should name him Gerard after him, so we should pick a name before he thinks we’re considering it,” Caroline joked.
David laughed again. “I know we’re a bit late. Has anyone said anything to you about it?”
“No, but I think we should have a name picked out to announce at the party,” Caroline said. “I can make party favors with it.”
“That’s a good idea,” David said. He winced as another phantom pain sizzled up his throat. He needed to drink something to wash it away. “Let me spend some time with Noah today, and I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
He heard the smile on Caroline’s lips as she said, “Okay. I’ll come up with some other names, too. And if you think of any, text them to me.”
“I will. Get some rest, Caroline.”
“I’d love to, but baby is very against that idea,” Caroline huffed. “He’s like you—always moving at full speed.”
David smiled. “Well, tell him I say to settle down. And that I love him, of course.”
They said their goodbyes, and David pocketed his phone. He stepped out into the lobby, where a dish full of lollipops sat on the front desk. He took one from the bowl and popped it in his mouth, willing his stomach to settle.
A few minutes later, the doctor stepped out and motioned for David. “He’s all set. Good to see you, David. Good luck on the rest of your season.”
“Thanks,” David said. He never knew what to say when people told him good luck. Luck didn’t have anything to do with it.
He stepped into the exam room expecting to find Noah ready to leave, but instead Noah sat on the edge of his chair with his head bowed and his hands folded. David would have thought he was praying if not for his eyes being open, staring down at the floor.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” David asked, letting the door click shut behind him.
Noah looked up at him with dead eyes that made David’s heart somersault in his chest.
“Come here,” Noah said quietly, opening his arms.
David strode to him and moved to his knees. “What’s wrong? I thought everything was good.”
Noah kissed his forehead. “Everything is fine with my wrist. I’m all set to start in the sim next week.”
David frowned. “But…?”
Noah scanned his face, and David’s stomach dropped. He pulled the lollipop from his mouth as his heart went haywire, beating so fast he could feel the blood rushing through his body at light speed.
He’s breaking up with you . It was an absolutely stupid thought, but it raced through his mind anyway. Noah loves you , he reminded himself. He said he loves you more than anything.
Noah cupped his face in his hands. “I can’t drive for Cobalt when you’re killing yourself, David. I’m going to HQ tomorrow to talk to Jenson about quitting.”
“What?” David croaked. The lollipop slipped from his fingers and hit the floor with a wet crack. “What are you talking about?”
“How many pounds have you lost since COTA?” Noah asked, keeping his voice steady. “Fifteen? Twenty?”
David swallowed hard. This was not happening. He’d been so careful. He hadn’t disturbed anyone, and he felt good. He felt fine.
“Don’t do this,” David pleaded. “If you quit, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“It isn’t your choice, and it’s not your fault,” Noah said firmly.
“You just said it was!” Panic leaked into his voice as he clutched Noah’s thighs.
“This is Oxbow’s fault,” Noah said, thumbing his cheeks. “Hugh and your fucking trainer—that’s who caused this.”
“No.” David shook his head, freeing himself from Noah’s hands. “Noah, no. I’m eating. I’m doing everything we talked about in our deal. You can’t change the terms.”
Fire sparked to life in Noah’s eyes. “Yes, I can. You’re getting worse.”
“I am not!” David snapped, suddenly angry. Anger was always so close now. He’d snapped at Aiden more times in the last month than he had in his entire career with Oxbow.
“David,” Noah said gingerly, smoothing back his hair. “I love you. I know this feels like an attack, but it’s not. You’re starving yourself.”
“I am not,” David cut. “I told you, I’m eating.”
“And then you’re throwing it up at night when you think I’m sleeping,” Noah said softly.
David went wide-eyed. There was no way. He’d been so fucking sure Noah was asleep. He knew what a sleeping Noah looked like.
“We went through two toilet paper rolls in a week,” Noah continued gently. “You’ve had those rolls in there since Christmas. It took me awhile to figure out what was happening, but I do have a brain in here.” He tapped his temple.
“No,” David said weakly, but he had no argument that wasn’t a lie, and he’d promised not to lie.
“I waited until today, hoping I could use my wrist as an excuse,” Noah said. “But that’s not happening.”
David shook his head, backing away from him. “No. You can’t quit racing because of me. You can’t do that. I can’t believe we’re even talking about this.”
“David, I don’t want to race anymore,” Noah said. “It has nothing to do with you.”
David put his face in his hands. Noah loved racing. David had been his teammate—he saw the way Noah’s face lit up every time he put on a helmet, and how excited he got over radio after a good lap. David was the only thing that had changed. His weight was the problem. “Right. But if I were fat, you’d still want to. Is that right?”
“You’ve never been fat in your life, do you understand?” Noah asked, anger leaking into his voice. “This is serious. You thinking this way is partially my fault for not being here with you to catch the signs when it started.”
David shot to his feet, suddenly antsy. He couldn’t stay here another second. “I’m being monitored. Everyone is happy with how everything is going, and you want to ruin it. Is this about me, or is this just you trying to—”
He cut himself off, biting down on his quivering lip.
Noah smiled sadly. “Am I just trying to help Cobalt win? Is that what you were going to say?”
David looked away, ashamed. Tears welled in his eyes, hot and sticky. Noah bent down and picked up his discarded lollipop and put it in the trash. David wanted to run to him, to bury his face in Noah’s shirt, to find the only safety he knew how to reach anymore. Instead, he just stood there.
“It isn’t your fault,” Noah said, wrapping his arms around him. “This is Oxbow all over again, baby. It’s got nothing to do with you; they just want you to think it does.”
“Then why do I keep losing?” David choked out into Noah’s chest. “I’m doing my best, and I can’t even get a podium. If I don’t win soon—”
He couldn’t even say it. The pain of losing on merit was more than he could bear.
Noah squeezed him tight. “You’re losing because your team would rather blame the best driver on the grid than the car they fucked up.”
David let out a ragged sob into Noah’s shirt. Relief washed over him—the same relief he felt when he threw up breakfast at Oxbow after Noah dropped him off, the same relief he felt in the middle of the night when he erased his dinner calories in silence.
Nobody at Oxbow talked about the car being the problem. They constantly talked about weight and looked at David. Every engineer seemed to know every ounce of fat on his body at all times. But if Noah saw it as a car problem… he always knew better than the engineers. Well, usually.
“Oxbow doesn’t deserve you,” Noah said, rocking him from side to side. “They want to ruin you instead of admitting they made a shit car. You’re a champion, but you’re still inexperienced, and they know that. They’re letting you get destroyed because you haven’t learned how to stop them. That isn’t your fault.”
Noah’s fingers nestled in his hair, scratching his scalp the way his mother used to do. David cried against the beat of Noah’s heart, but it didn’t change the fact that he was still losing and he still weighed too damn much to counteract the car.
“You’re more important than any of this,” Noah murmured into his hair. “I’m about to be Hugh’s worst nightmare, and I’m gonna do it whether you want me to or not. They fucked me over, and that’s reason enough, but fucking you over? Hell no. Nobody does shit to the love of my life on my watch.”
David pulled away, tethered to Noah’s shirt by an embarrassing spit trail. Noah knocked it away like it didn’t matter and gently swiped the drool from David’s lips. His eyes blazed with the fight David used to see from across the garage—the same fight he’d seen long ago, when Noah stood with Finlay and Robbie and shot daggers at anyone who ventured too close.
“Congratulations,” Noah said with a kiss to the bridge of his nose. “You have new representation, and I’m about to come down on Oxbow so hard that Hugh Warren turns into a fucking diamond.”