Wrecked (Dirty Air 3)

“What?”

“If we somehow ended up on a social media website?”

She eats a few more chips, no doubt buying herself time to think. “I don’t know, to be honest. The thought scares me because I’m a pretty private person.”

“And I’m not.” I say it with more venom than intended. It’s not directed at her, but rather my situation. Fame is nothing it’s cracked up to be. Unlike Liam and Noah, I wouldn’t mind disappearing from it all.

“It’s not entirely your fault, but you can’t help the fame attached to your name and job. I prefer to be behind the scenes.”

“I don’t like it either. The fame and constant disappointment following me if I cock up.”

Elena frowns. “I’m sure you don’t. And also, I’m afraid of what others in PR would think of me. They could assume I’m sleeping around to get ahead and land more clients.”

“Fuck them. Who cares what random people have to say about us?”

She raises a brow. “Is there an us?”

Yeah, Jax, way to fucking go. Good luck navigating this one. “I know there shouldn’t be.”

Her eyes drop to her lap. “Right.”

The way my chest aches at the sight of her pain is fucking unsettling.

I grip her hand, holding it hostage. “But I want more with you. To spend more time together and for us to get to know each other on a deeper level.”

“We’ve spent months together already. Honestly, I could’ve lived without knowing you drink orange juice after brushing your teeth. That’s basically the eighth deadly sin.”

I smile while shaking my head. “I want to know everything about you.”

“You really don’t.”

“I’ll never be satisfied until I know every dark secret that goes on inside of your pretty little mind.”

“I thought I was vacant like my dolls?”

“Please, love. The only vacant thing about our entire exchange was my words. And I regret them.”

She rolls her eyes.

I squeeze her hand tighter. “But…I’m sorry. Seriously, I’m sorry for every shitty thing I said. I’ll make it up to you in time. With my words, with my actions, and most definitely with my tong—”

“Stop! Okay, you’re forgiven.” A blush creeps up from her neck to her cheeks.

I pop a chip into my mouth and smile.

After dinner and a couple of drinks, Elena and I make our way toward the lit-up London Eye. I skip past the line with Elena in tow. She raises a brow at me as the security guard lets us through without an issue, not even asking for any identification.

The attendant at the loading area looks at me with wide eyes. “Shit! Jax Kingston!”

Another worker smiles at me and asks for my autograph.

“Sure. Hand over whatever you want signed. I assume you have a Sharpie or something?”

The two guys nod and pass me their work hats. They ask me about this season, and they tell me how they’re rooting for me to win the British Grand Prix in a couple of weeks.

The reminder fills me with dread. I don’t want my break with Elena to be cut short. Things between us are starting to feel right. Banishing those thoughts, I whisper something to the worker, grab Elena’s hand, and walk into the next capsule. A conveniently empty capsule as per my last-minute request to the fan.

She giggles to herself as she walks