Book Read Free

Wrecked (Dirty Air Series Book 3)

Page 24

by Lauren Asher


  A knock on my door has my spine straightening. I take a few deep breaths before opening. Jax leans against the door frame, looking attractive in his tux. The shiny material glistens and grips to his form in the best ways.

  “I thought we should talk before tonight.” He enters my room without an invitation. Not that he needs one, seeing as he comes to visit me daily now.

  “About?” I move toward the dresser, fumbling with my clutch.

  “It’s not too late to back out of this before it turns into something we can’t control.”

  “It is too late for that. We definitely can’t control this,” I grumble to myself.

  “It’s not. I don’t want you to regret having your name connected to mine. We can show up separately and no one would know the difference.” He walks up behind me, heating my back. His sincere eyes looking at me through the mirror tug at my heart.

  “Give me a good reason why I should go with you.”

  “Isn’t that the million-dollar question?” He turns me to face him. “I can give you countless reasons why you shouldn’t. That would be the easy part. But there’s no turning back from showing you off to the world and claiming you as mine.”

  “You’re not selling yourself here.”

  His fingers clutch onto my chin, forcing me to look at him. “I don’t want to disappoint you. And fuck, I know I will. But I unapologetically want you tied to me. To show you off in this dress and prove to everyone that you’re mine and no arsehole can have you.”

  “But?”

  “But the good part of me—albeit a small part—wants to tell you to run in the other direction. That I’m not worth the risk. That my unknown future could tie you down.”

  “You’re worth the risk,” I say with confidence even though we are talking about two different risks. Him of his future, and me of my heart. It’s only a matter of what will blow up first.

  “Even with Connor potentially disapproving?” He raises a brow.

  “He won’t.”

  His brows scrunch together. “How do you know?”

  “I talked to him the other day.”

  “Good. So did I.” Jax flashes a telling smile.

  I smack his shoulder. “Asshole. You were testing me!”

  “I know how much you care about your job. I don’t want to have you unhappy with me because of something going wrong with that.”

  “I love my job, but…”

  “But?” Jax leans in closer, leaving behind a phantom kiss on my lips. I yearn for more.

  “But having a job isn’t my life goal.”

  “Then what is?”

  I shrug, not interested in pushing him further than what he can handle. “That’s for me to find out.”

  The goal I have in mind doesn’t scare me like it should. And that in itself is proof of how possible it would be to fall for someone like Jax.

  Let’s hope he’s willing to fall with me.

  “Ready, love?” Jax scoots toward the door of the limo.

  I cling to the seat, my nails digging into the leather. “Not really.”

  Expectations swamp me with self-conscious thoughts. Jax doesn’t ever bring dates to these kinds of functions, let alone someone like me. Someone not connected to a rich family or a fancy company. One who has loan payments and drinks BOGO bottles of cheap wine. What was I thinking agreeing to this?

  I steal a glance in Jax’s direction, drinking in how he looks in his tux.

  Oh, right. That’s why.

  A few cameras flash behind the glass, reporters anticipating our entry. My breath comes out faster as panic sets in.

  “Hey. Take a few deep breaths.” Jax tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. He takes deep breaths in unison, making me feel less stupid about freaking out. “You’ll answer one of their questions and they’ll end up loving you. I can promise you that. You’ve got this way with people.”

  His compliment warms me in a way few words do. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually freak out like this. Like ever.”

  A ghost of a smile crosses his lips. “It’s a nice change of pace for me to be the calm one for once. I’m the one who tends to be a bit of a mess.”

  I laugh. “That’s one way to look at it. I thought I’d be okay after we left the house.”

  His hand lingers, cupping my cheek. “If you want to get out of here, say the words. We can crash a pub and drink until we can’t walk straight.”

  My breath hitches at his idea. I can’t believe Jax is willing to ditch an event that clearly is important to him for me.

  I raise my chin, hiding my distress. “No. We are doing this.”

  “That’s the spirit, love.”

  Somehow that one word makes my insides all warm and mushy. Jax exits the limo and offers me his hand. I step out on wobbly legs, praying I don’t trip in my high heels.

  Cameras flash and I fight the urge to shield my eyes.

  “Deep breath,” Jax whispers in my ear.

  “A part of my introvert self is dying. I can feel it.”

  Jax laughs, gaining even more attention. I clutch onto the sleeve of Jax’s tux like he’s the last lifeboat on the Titanic.

  Jax walks the carpet with a swagger I’m accustomed to seeing from him. He grips onto my hand, throwing me a smile from over his shoulder. My heart threatens to burst at his look of uncontained happiness.

  A reporter calls Jax over. He stops, tugging me into his side.

  The blonde speaks into her microphone. “Jax. It’s a shame your father couldn’t make it tonight.”

  His smile slips but he recovers. “He sends his regrets. But he is proud of how much the organization has grown since he first donated ten years ago.”

  She nods with enthusiasm. “Most definitely. And I must say, it’s not too often we see you with a woman on your arm. Who is your date for tonight?”

  Jax’s eyes remain on me the entire time he addresses the reporter. “I’m lucky to have Elena Gonzalez accompanying me tonight.”

  The reporter’s brows knit together. “Gonzalez? The same ones who dominate the Latin-American pharmacy market?”

  I cover my smile with my free hand. Jax’s eyes lighten up at my reaction. He turns toward the reporter, giving her his full attention. “No. Elena Gonzalez as in the fantastic public relations rep who keeps me and other F1 athletes in check. I’m lucky to have her working with me this year.” He flashes a dazzling smile at the camera and gives my hand a squeeze.

  I love that smile. I love it so freaking much, I don’t process his words for a few seconds. Everything inside of me threatens to burst with happiness at his praise.

  The reporter blinks, clearly disarmed by the enigma that is Jax Kingston.

  You and me both, sister.

  The reporter turns to me. “Well, it’s nice to meet you Miss Gonzalez. You must have some special powers if you were able to control this one. I can imagine he’s a tough one.” Her voice hints at her admiration. “And who are you wearing tonight? I want to guess Valentino’s new summer collection, but I’d hate to be wrong.”

  “Uhh…Zara’s sale rack?” I shrug, regretting my statement instantly. My cheeks warm and I consider retracting my statement, but both the reporter and Jax laugh, easing my distress.

  Jax leans into me. His lips kiss my temple before they brush over my ear. “I fancy you so fucking much, you have no idea.”

  I lose myself in his words, willing away the sense of imposter syndrome I have. Jax has a way of making me feel like I belong by his side. No reporter or question can take that away from me.

  I raise my chin and look straight into the reporter’s eyes, allowing my confidence to grow. While I might not own any Valentino or have a trust fund, I still belong here. I’ve worked my ass off year after year to assist the elite, and it’s time I enjoy myself a bit.

  The pawn doesn’t become a queen through sheer luck. It takes grit, work, and confidence.

  And I’m so damn ready to make my way across the board.

  “Welcome
to the Oh shit, I’m famous club.” The bed sheets rustle as Jax rolls on top of me.

  I shove my crazy bedhead out of my face. “What? There’s a club for that?”

  He laughs as he tugs his phone out from under the comforter and hands it over to me. I scan the article, ignoring the way Jax’s lips find his favorite spot on my neck.

  “Oh my God. My anonymity lasted less than twenty-four hours.” The nervousness I expected to feel once the press connected me to Jax doesn’t happen. Instead, I can’t help the warmth that fills me at the article’s mention of Jax and me together.

  “They praise you in the article and mention your company’s success with Elías, Liam, and me. See?” He taps the screen. “They didn’t say anything bad. And thank fuck for that because I really don’t want you to have to clean up a fight I have with a newspaper.”

  “Hmm.” I chew on my lip.

  “Say you’ll never doubt me again and that I’m always right.” He stares me down.

  He tickles me when I remain silent for too long. I laugh to the point of tears, admitting he was right about the whole thing.

  I pick up the dropped phone. “Did they really just say how JaxAttack is now tamed and out of commission? One: that nickname is awful. And two: we look pretty damn good in this photo.” I zoom in, checking out how incredible we look together. I’m surprised to say I glow under the limelight despite all my hesitation in the limo.

  Jax’s stubble scrapes across my upper body as he continues his exploration downwards. “I can assure you that JaxAttack is tame with everyone but you.”

  My scoff becomes a moan as he lifts the hem of my shirt and flicks his tongue across my nipple. “Seriously. Don’t talk about yourself in the third person. It’s very Julius Caesar of you.”

  “Or very caveman of me. It fits, seeing as I want to keep you all to myself and fuck you every hour of every day, marking you so no fucker comes near what’s mine.”

  My cheeks heat. “You’re not for sweet words, are you?”

  “Naughty words make the heart grow fonder.”

  I giggle. “That’s so not how the saying goes.”

  He moves down my body, his lips finding my clit in no time. And with a few swipes of his tongue, I’m screaming naughty words up to the ceiling too.

  “You can turn around now,” Jax says with excitement.

  “What are we doing here?” I look around at an empty rooftop bar.

  “I’d rather show you.” Jax tugs on my hand, leading us toward the edge of the balcony.

  My jaw drops as I lean against the glass railing. “No way.”

  “Surprise,” he whispers in my ear as he presses behind my back. His hot breath pulls the slightest shiver from me. One he notices based on the way he laughs into my ear before nipping at it.

  Hundreds of hot-air balloons float through the sky, an array of colors matching a kaleidoscope.

  “Wow. It’s almost exactly like the puzzle.”

  “All you’re missing is a good trip on ecstasy.”

  I lean my head against his chest and laugh. “It’s a pretty ugly puzzle, right?”

  “The ugliest. You need to get your eyes checked.”

  “Says the man who my eyes are attracted to in the first place.”

  “Okay, you’re right. You need to get your eyes and head checked.”

  A giggle escapes me. A loud, no holding back laugh.

  Jax’s arms wrap around me. “I like it when you laugh like that. But more so, I like being the reason behind it.”

  “Your narcissism has no bounds.”

  He laughs, holding me to his chest. “I like my ego stroked.”

  “Among other things.”

  The shaking of his chest pulls a smile from me. “So, is this everything you dreamed of?”

  I’m not sure which dream he refers to. The one of him finally opening up to me and giving us a chance or my dream of attending a hot-air balloon festival. To be safe, I go with the latter option.

  “I told myself I would go to one of these when I was older.”

  “Why older? Why not now?” His fingers interlace with mine against the railing. A trail of heat snakes up my arm straight to my chest.

  “I wanted to go when I felt like I had moved on from everything in my past. I wanted it to be this big moment of letting go.”

  “That’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself.”

  “How so?”

  “I don’t think anyone ever truly moves on. You can heal, sure, but letting go insinuates you don’t want to remember anymore. And the memories aren’t the problem. The mistake people make in life is that they assume pain is bad. But really, pain means you feel something. It means you’re alive. It’s about using it as a weapon rather than a weakness. So, heal yourself, but don’t let go of the memories. They’re what make you so very you.”

  I sit with his words. “That was...well, wow.” No other words come to me. All I know is that I want to soak up this new version of Jax until there’s nothing left of him. When Jax was an asshole to me, I struggled between wanting him and disliking him. But this version of him is intoxicating.

  Jax turns me around, pushing my back against the glass. He cups my face before planting a soft kiss on my lips. “I want your pain. I want the demons who linger in the darkest part of your brain. Share the scary thoughts with me and share the happy ones. I wouldn’t trade them for anything. I’m done resisting what I should’ve taken a long time ago.”

  “And that is?”

  “You. It’s always been you. I was screwed ever since you walked into that McCoy conference room when Liam needed help. Even when I made it my mission to have you stay the fuck away from me. Especially when you were vulnerable with me. I want to be broken with you.”

  “That’s not usually how it works.”

  He leans in, his lips brushing mine. “Fuck the usual. I don’t want to be picture-perfect with you. I want to be a fucking mosaic, made up of broken pieces so damn colorful, you can’t help finding them beautiful.”

  33

  Elena

  “Happy birthday, sweet child of mine!” Vera rises from the breakfast table to give Jax a hug.

  Today is Jax’s birthday? Obviously, he mentioned being a Gemini, but I didn’t put two and two together. “It’s your birthday?”

  He grins. “Yeah. I don’t usually make a big deal of it, though.”

  “I’ll never understand why he prefers to spend them with his old parents. Every summer it’s the same with him.” Vera rolls her eyes.

  Jax sits next to me. Jackie places Jax’s cup of tea and breakfast in front of him.

  He steals a piece of bacon off my plate. “Nothing I like more than spending the day with the most important people in my life.”

  “I’ll take it, seeing as the only other option is hanging out with those party people you always get in trouble with,” Vera says.

  “What do you like to do?” I scan Jax’s face, taking in his easygoing smile. Day by day he grows more relaxed.

  “I have some traditions.”

  “Like?”

  “Oh, it’s much better if we show you,” Vera chimes in.

  I offer her a small smile. “Whatever the birthday boy wants…”

  “The birthday boy gets.” He flashes me a mischievous grin.

  “This is tame compared to what I imagined. A movie marathon is the last thing I expected of you,” I whisper to Jax as I eye his parents, cuddled together a few seats away. A large screen hangs in front of us to create a movie theater ambiance.

  “And what did you expect? Me throwing some rager at my parents’ house?” Jax grabs a fistful of popcorn from the bowl in my lap. The movie’s opening credits disappear, and my heart hammers in my chest as The Hunger Games begins.

  Nausea hits me out of nowhere. I clutch onto the bowl of popcorn with sweaty palms, desperately trying to keep calm.

  The first scene plays, and it reminds me of my childhood—of my parents and everything I’ve lost. I place the
popcorn in the seat next to me and rush to exit the home movie theater.

  Hot tears trickle down my face as I walk through the hall. The tattoo on my finger burns, mocking me, calling me out on my bullshit of wanting to be brave. I curse the tears and wipe them away with the sleeve of my sweater.

  “Elena, stop,” Jax calls out.

  I keep walking, ignoring him.

  “Elena.” His voice sounds closer.

  I turn a corner, desperate for some distance while also craving his comfort. Great, even my thoughts are a jumbled mess.

  Jax’s hand wraps around my arm and turns me around. “What’s wrong? I thought you would like The Hunger Games.” He grimaces.

  I avoid his gaze. “No.”

  “Then why get a tattoo of it? I didn’t mean to upset you, I swear. I thought you’d be happy.”

  It takes everything in me to ignore his stare. “I got the tattoo for my dad.”

  “Shit. I keep fucking up.”

  I shake my head trying to force the tears away. “No. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t know. The book—” I let out a ragged breath. “The book I was reading the night they were killed…”

  “Was The Hunger Games. Fuck.” He finishes for me. His hand wraps around the back of my neck, forcing me to look up at him. “We can choose something else. I don’t give a shit what movie, as long as you’re okay with it.”

  I stare at him. His sincerity mends the tattered remains of my heart. He chose something on his birthday thinking it would make me happy. That kind of selflessness allows for a new sense of warmth to replace the cold inside of me.

  His presence gives me courage to do something stupid yet brave. To banish some of the last bad memories plaguing me.

  “I think I want to watch it.”

  Jax’s thumb presses against my thrumming pulse, awareness flooding my body. “Even if it scares you?”

  “Especially because it scares me.” I lift my chin.

  “I’ll be there for you. You have me.”

  I believe his every word. We walk back to the movie room hand in hand. Someone presses play, and the movie starts up again. Jax doesn’t let go of my hand the entire time. He softly brushes over my new tattoo as I silently sob to myself at the part I remember reading on the worst night of my life. His actions tell me everything words can’t.

 

‹ Prev