Wrecked (Dirty Air Series Book 3)

by Lauren Asher

  “You’ve got to admit, hashtag JaxAttack is pretty damn catchy.”

  “Almost as catchy as the STD he’s bound to get from whatever woman he hooks up with at the club.”

  Elías’s chest shakes as he laughs. “Say what you will, but he brings out a fire in you I haven’t seen in a while. I was getting worried, you know, but I didn’t want to say anything last year. You looked tired and sad, and I wasn’t sure if you were stressed or if it was because of other stuff with your grandma…”

  “I don’t want you worrying about me. Especially not about the other stuff.” My eyes scan our surroundings.

  “Someone has to. How’s her new facility working out?”

  “It’s expensive but worth it. They even send me pictures of her every day, and she calls me once a week. Supposedly she’s become friends with her roommate.”

  “I’m glad to hear she’s happy. She could have been there years ago if you had only accepted my help.”

  “I’m not a charity case.”

  “And yet you help everyone else who is one.” He offers me a small smile.

  “I can afford the place now because of this job. With the monthly payments to help Jax, I’m able to pay for her place and my loans, plus my apartment. I’m even looking at a slightly bigger place now.”

  “That’s good. I don’t like where you live.”

  I roll my eyes, ignoring him.

  His frown doesn’t let up. “Are you still getting those nightmares?”

  “Elías… No quiero hablar de eso.”

  Call me superstitious, but I haven’t had a nightmare since the start of this season.

  “I think you and Jax have more in common than you think. You both avoid talking about shit bothering you. At least with you, I know what happened. But with him, obviously, he screams bad boy with a sad past. What do you think?”

  “What sad past? His parents are alive, they support his race career, and he has access to anything money can buy. He’s the poster child for what happens when mommies and daddies give their kids everything. What more could he possibly want?”

  Elías turns me in a circle. “Maybe you’re not asking the right questions.”

  The crowd eerily parts, revealing Jax, brooding in a corner with Liam and Noah.

  As if he senses me, his eyes meet mine. Every nerve in my body lights up. His smirk screams trouble and unspoken promises, and my body’s response to his attention worries me. My attraction to Jax threatens the carefully laid plan I made to help him. But I shove those thoughts aside because I’m here to learn exactly what makes Jax Kingston tick.

  Turns out I get to work with the biggest challenge of my career thus far. While some might be intimidated by Jax’s poor attitude and brooding, I can’t wait to start repairing him from the ground up.

  I flash him a broad smile that has his eyebrows pinching together and his frown deepening.

  Bring it on.

  8

  Elena

  Somehow Jax doesn’t hear me when I enter his room. I tiptoe to his window, grab onto the curtains, and open them with a dramatic flair. “Rise and shine!”

  A strange snarl escapes him as he turns away from the light. “What the fuck?”

  “Time to get up. We have a busy day planned.”

  “Can you come back in a few hours? Better yet, don’t come back at all.” He grabs a pillow and covers his head. His voice has a rough tone to it, hoarse from waking up.

  I take the opportunity to gaze at his naked back, covered with tattoos, barely an inch of space available. Smooth muscles strain, creating ridges across his body.

  My fingers itch to touch him. I nearly give in, but somehow catch myself. “That’s a tempting offer.”

  “Not as tempting as a morning blowjob. So, unless that’s on the table, you need to go.” The pillow over his face muffles his voice.

  “Who knew you were such a charmer in the morning?”

  “What can I say? You bring out the best in me,” he says dryly.

  My eyes strain as I attempt to make out the tattoos spread across his defined arms. I lick my lips, fighting with everything in me to not step closer.

  Jax suddenly lifts himself up against the headboard. I rush to look away, but the smile on his face tells me how busted I am.

  “Elena Gonzalez, were you checking me out? I’m flattered.”

  “Please.” I roll my eyes. “I was questioning how quickly I could suffocate you with the pillow.”

  “If someone told me I’d die in bed with you, that wouldn’t have been my first guess.”

  My eyes drop to the hotel carpet as heat floods my cheeks. “I can’t believe you kiss your mom with that mouth.”

  “She doesn’t mind me. It’s not my fault you have your Apple pencil permanently implanted up your arse,” Jax snaps.

  I try to ignore the way his muscles tense and ripple from the quick movement, but I only have so much self-control around him. “Moving on… I have your first activity planned to help repair your image. Get ready because we have to be there in an hour. And be sure to wear workout clothes.” I exit his room without a backward glance. Let’s be real, I don’t have the kind of self-restraint needed to watch him get out of bed.

  Jax meets me in the living room twenty minutes later. Adidas pants cling to his muscular legs and his black T-shirt emphasizes his toned form.

  I’m tempted to hit myself for planning an event where I get to see him in all his fine glory.

  “You’re going dressed like that?” Jax’s eyes start at my boxer braids a la Million Dollar Baby before roaming over my top and leggings.

  “Yes. We’re going to be getting physical.” I do a little fist pump that should’ve stayed in an eighties’ workout video.

  “Fuck my life,” he grumbles under his breath as we leave the hotel room.

  His reaction fills me with pride I shouldn’t feel. No matter how much I desire his hidden glances and taunting, I resist for his sake and mine.

  A quick car ride later, we arrive at the location of Jax’s first event.

  “Shit. A boxing gym?” He looks at the lobby with wide eyes and an open mouth.

  I smile at him. “Surprise! I’ve heard you like to box as part of your workout routine, so I thought it would be a good idea. At least it’s something you’re interested in besides your usual extracurricular activities.”

  “Are you hinting at my sex life again?” he tsks.

  “What sex life? The one with your right hand?”

  Fans stare at us from all directions as Jax curls over, laughing. Even I’m caught up in his reaction—happy and carefree.

  I regain my composure and pull him toward the welcome table.

  “Fighting Back Against Domestic Violence. Nice choice.” He shoots me a genuine smile. One making him look youthful and unplagued with the worries bothering him more than he cares to admit.

  “I thought it was an amazing cause to donate to. I invited a bunch of people from F1, plus local businessmen. All the proceeds are going to a UK-based charity helping support women once they leave their abusers.”

  It took some additional planning, but I love the cause. I watch lots of documentaries, and one about a woman who described the grueling process of escaping her abuser stuck with me. I vowed to give back, so here I am, with Jax’s money funding the cause. Plus, I thought it would be the perfect first event to warm Jax up to my help while keeping his interest.

  Fans and guests walk around us, chatting and participating in a silent auction. Mass amounts of people registered earlier, including F1 fans who are willing to donate a hundred euros for a few minutes in the sparring ring with Jax, Liam, Santiago, or Noah.

  I turn to find Jax’s eyes on me. A weird sensation takes up a spot in my stomach, similar to the one I have when a plane is about to land. “I told you I’d help you with your reputation. But I didn’t mention how I plan on helping lots of people along the way with the help of your plush bank account and celebrity connections.”

&
nbsp; “Only you would use my fame to help raise money for philanthropies. Bloody hell.”

  “Your compliment got lost somewhere within your comment.”

  “I don’t even mean it as a jab. It’s… This is incredible.” He looks around with bright eyes and a large smile. Almost as if he feels at home in the gym, surrounded by sneakers squeaking and swinging punching bags.

  Before I have a chance to comment, the main person I hired to help set up the event interrupts us. She explains the goals for the day while Jax intently listens. His willingness to participate surprises me, especially when he messages other racers to make sure they’re coming.

  Over the next few hours, I try to tear my eyes away from Jax in the ring, but I find it hard. Like harder than his muscles flexing under the bright gym lights hard. His skin glistens from sweat and he has a permanent smile on his face all morning. It’s so breathtaking, I find it hard to stare for an extended period of time. Kind of like looking at the sun too long with my eyes burning and my skin growing hot.

  “Want me to take a picture of him for you? They usually last longer.” A tan woman I instantly recognize as Noah’s girlfriend, Maya, shows up by my side. Maya is a bit shorter than me. She dresses in similar workout gear to mine, with her brunette ponytail bobbing behind her. “Awesome event, by the way.”

  “So great and I love the cause. Maya, take a photo of me while you’re at it. I’m going to send it to Liam’s nieces.” Sophie, with blonde space buns and a matching fluorescent sports bra and leggings, waves at Maya as she walks toward the ring. She looks small compared to the raised sparring octagon.

  “She loves a good photo moment.” Santiago Alatorre throws an arm around his sister’s shoulders as his brown eyes glance over at me. His dark hair drips with sweat after his round of sparring with a fan.

  “Sunshine, I told you to stay five feet away.” Liam leans against the cables as he smacks a kiss on top of Sophie’s head.

  Sophie makes a gagging noise. “I told you to stop calling me that months ago.”

  “Not my fault when you’re dressed up like that.” Liam flashes her a cheerful smile as he shakes his head, and a tiny sense of jealousy floods through me. Not at them in particular. God, no, I don’t like Liam like that. It’s more because I find it difficult to ignore my sense of loneliness at seeing a couple truly happy and in love.

  The last relationship I had was ages ago, before Abuela got sick and I started working the F1 circuit. That coupled with my inability to imagine a future with them set me up for failure. I didn’t think I’d miss having a romantic connection with someone but seeing a happy couple hits me hard.

  “Why do you want her to stay away? I’d donate a thousand euros to see Sophie kick your ass in there.” Noah takes a sip of water from Maya’s bottle.

  “I’d like to watch her try. Jax taught me how to spar years ago.” Liam lowers himself onto the gym floor.

  “And you’re still terrible! I’d have better luck teaching Santiago to fight.” Jax throws his hands in the air as he follows Liam out of the ring.

  Liam cranks his middle finger like a jack in the box. A soft laugh escapes my lips, bringing Jax’s attention back to me. His narrowed eyes fail to have the effect he wants, instead causing goosebumps to run down my skin.

  Note to self: stop planning events that require Jax to take his shirt off. His abs are distracting for the onlookers.

  Me. I’m the onlooker.

  “I don’t know about that. I’ve seen Santi’s right hook.” Noah walks up to his friends.

  “And don’t you forget it. One wrong move toward Maya and you’re done.” Santi throws a couple of punches in the air.

  “Hey, it’s Elena, right? Do you mind taking our photo, please?” Maya offers me her camera.

  Ignoring the increasing sense of loneliness, I snap a few pictures and return the camera to Maya. The group laughs as Santiago drags Noah into the octagon, claiming he needs to remind him what happens if he breaks his sister’s heart.

  For the rest of the day, I feel Jax’s eyes on me, even when I pretend to busy myself with other tasks.

  I shouldn’t notice it. Shouldn’t want it. But most of all, I shouldn’t wish for more of it.

  9

  Jax

  Surviving the first two races included a Xan a night and a shit ton of deep breathing.

  Race three is going strong, with me acting more like a dick than usual because I hate how Elena is unavoidable. The more time I spend around her, the harder I find it to resist the urge to learn all about her.

  I could blame the stress from the Bahrain Grand Prix for my recent irritability, but it’s a cop-out for how I truly feel. Conflicted. Frustrated. So damn scared of having someone like Elena around me day and night.

  I push my thoughts aside because it’s a bloody qualifying day. A buzz trickles down my spine before the third Prix of the World Championship schedule.

  My car gleams under the pit lights, sleek silver paint shining, the wheels smooth and fresh. McCoy’s cars are some of the best and the team works their asses off to produce podium-finishing race cars. Liam and I smashed it for a couple of seasons together before he left, moving onto another team after he fell in love with Sophie.

  For the first time in years, I have confidence in the garage. When Liam was here, McCoy focused on giving him the best strategies. He could handle the pressure while I’ve been a loose cannon one moment away from misfiring.

  But now, with him gone and my new partner fresh off a sucky lower team, I have a chance at winning the whole World Championship. All I need to do is handle my anxiety and my growing irritation toward my unwelcome roommate.

  Elías hangs around his car with Elena. I didn’t find him annoying before, but now I’m not too sure. He openly flirts with Elena right in front of me. I’d rather introduce a drill bit to my eye than watch them get together.

  My distaste toward the idea isn’t because I’m jealous. Pretty boy Elías looks like he can offer Elena everything someone like her deserves in the first place. An easygoing life with laughs, positivity, and a shit ton of other happy words I can’t begin to name, let alone experience myself.

  Okay, I sound slightly jealous. But so fucking be it.

  I try to ignore Elena the best I can, but I steal glances every now and then. The push and pull between us is damn near intoxicating. My dick pulses to life in my race suit as I stare at her from across the garage, becoming distracted by the dress she wore today. It looks like it was made for her, hugging her in all the places I want to touch.

  Elena walks up to me, ruining my idea of evading her. “Hey, you. How do you feel about today’s race?”

  “Excited to ruin the competition.” My lips lift at the corners as I picture Elías watching me from the podium’s sidelines.

  “The smile on your face should worry me.”

  “This one isn’t the one you need to worry about. That’s a whole different look altogether.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You don’t scare me.”

  “Then what scares you?” What the fuck are you doing? Stop trying to get to know her, you stupid fucker.

  “A couple of things. But most of all is regret.” She clutches onto her iPad tightly.

  How does one word sit heavy against my chest? I cross my arms and she startles, the cloudiness in her eyes dissipating. “Deep shit, Gonzalez. Meanwhile, I’m afraid of spiders. Nasty little fuckers with beady eyes and the potential to jump.” My answer pulls an awkward laugh from her.

  She brushes her dark hair aside, hitting me with the smell I’ve come to know as distinctively hers. “I don’t know if I would’ve ever pegged you as someone who’s afraid of spiders.”

  I tap my chin pensively. “Probably because your assumptions of me couldn’t be further from the truth.”

  “Are you saying you’re better than my idea of you?”

  “No. I’m so much worse.”

  Her head tilts back, hitting me with soft eyes and a small smile. “All y
ou’re missing is the dark sky, a lightning strike, and ominous thunder to complete your villain montage.”

  I clap my hands together. “Now you’re getting it. I’ve always been one for making a hell of an entrance.”

  “And now I’m here so you don’t make one hell of an exit.”

  I let out a whistle. “I’m impressed by your level of clap back.”

  Elena beams. “Thanks. My abuela taught me well.”

  I definitely should be apprehensive about the way my dick twitches when Elena switches from English to Spanish. “She sounds like someone I’m afraid to meet. If she’s the queen, what does that make you?”

  “The pawn.”

  “I think you need to brush up on those chess references, love. No one wants to be the pawn. But I guess it fits. You look weak and untouched by true adversity, not strong enough to play with the big boys on the board.”

  “Comments like yours are exactly why I like the pawn. It’s the most underestimated piece.” She looks up at me, goading me with her smile.

  Screw her and her sparkling eyes, specks of brown and gold reflecting the lights above us, entrancing me. “Then why do you want to be one?”

  “Because in real life, we don’t start out as the strongest. It’s about surviving the little battles. Once the pawn makes it to the other side, it can turn into a queen. That’s who I want to be. The person who comes out stronger than when they started.”

  Her words hit deeper than intended. I can’t fight the temptation to learn more about her. “And what happens when you become the queen?”

  She lets out a soft laugh. “What happens when anyone becomes a queen? They rule the world. Well...my world that is.”

  I look away, growing uncomfortable at the idea of enjoying her company more than I should. “You’ve proven yourself a worthy opponent.”

  She tilts her head at me, her brows pinching together. “Why am I afraid to ask what you mean by that?”

  “Because evolution embedded a fight-or-flight response in each of us.”