Wrecked (Dirty Air 3)

“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.”