Wrecked (Dirty Air 3)
“I’m wondering what’s your next memory worth saving.” Well, fuck, that sounded dreamier than intended.
Based on the way her eyebrows raise, I can tell she has the same surprised reaction. Instead of waiting for her to answer, I keep the conversation going. Solely out of kindness. Not because I’m interested in getting to know her more.
Bullshit. Fuck me sideways with a ten-inch dildo please because I’m actually enjoying Elena’s company.
“What’s your favorite thing to do in your spare time? Obviously besides babysitting me.”
She smiles. “I like to watch YouTube videos of people doing makeup.”
“Let me get this straight: you like to watch people put makeup on themselves?”
“That’s what they usually do. But they also do challenges like putting makeup on their boyfriends, getting ready with no hands, and doing makeup while getting drunk.”
“Those are some committed wankers, doing that for their girlfriends. I could totally see Liam doing that shit for Sophie. I won’t lie though, I’m surprised you like watching people do makeup instead of doing it yourself.”
“The most talented YouTubers make it look like art. It’s my guilty pleasure.”
I shake my head. “If that’s the kind of pleasure you like, men are fucked. I love foreplay as much as the next guy, but I draw the line at makeup brushes.”
A rush of laughter escapes her.
I don’t think before I speak. “I like it when you laugh like that.”
She eyes me like I admitted I have a secret collection of sex toys. “What?”
“Nothing,” I blurt out.
She lets my comment go. Somehow, we last a whole dinner without arguing. An hour of us getting to know each other more than we ever have. I hate to admit talking to Elena was calming and fun—the exact opposite of what we should be doing together.
Once we’re done, she settles into the chair across the aisle to work on her puzzle. She shoots me a timid smile in a silent invitation.
I shake my head, denying her request. Not because I don’t want to. My rejection is because I crave more time with her. More attention, more of her laughs, more of her goddamn twinkling eyes.
Her shoulders drop as she returns her attention back toward the puzzle. It’s obvious she hoped I’d join. But doing something like that together could give her the wrong idea.
A relationship, even something as platonic as a friendship, wouldn’t work between us. It can’t work. If I’ve learned anything from Liam and Sophie, friendships only end one way, with I love yous and dreams of forever.
Someone like me will always disappoint someone like her. It’s written in my DNA, intertwined with an arsehole gene and other shit that can’t be overridden.
“Hope you’re ready for the next reputation-builder event!” Elena’s singsong voice wakes me from my nap on the couch. I didn’t bother making it to my room because of how knackered
I was after our flight to Barcelona.
I lift into a sitting position, prompting her to move away from me. “You have way too much serotonin to be considered human. How the fuck do you have so much happy energy all the time?”
“Says the guy who works out a lot yet lacks the endorphins to match.”
“And let me guess. ‘Endorphins make you happy and happy people don’t shoot their husbands.’” I attempt my best Reese Witherspoon Southern drawl.
“You did not quote Legally Blonde.” Her eyes bulging makes a grin spread across my face.
I bend and snap for some goddamn unknown reason. The giggle pouring out of Elena’s mouth makes the stupid idea worth it.
“You love movies, don’t you?” Her eyes light up.
“Absolutely. I reckon I would’ve been a movie critic or some shit if I wasn’t racing.”
“Really?”