Collided: Dirty Air (Book 2)(47)

Another sigh from her. “Yeah, occasionally, maybe like once every two months whenever she gets service. She’s still my mom so I’ve long since let go of that grudge. Some people aren’t meant to be parents.”

“That’s really mature of you.” I mean every word.

That’s the thing about Sophie. On paper, she may be twenty-two, but she holds herself to a higher standard, coming across older than her age. It makes me feel less guilty about our age gap because I can’t see her with a college fuckboy who barely has his shit together. She doesn’t deserve that.

“If you knew her, you’d understand. I can’t hold it against her anymore because she’s so happy doing what she does. She’s whacky like a hippie. I’m lucky she didn’t name me Rainbow Moon or something scary.”

We both laugh at that idea. Being around her knocks me off-kilter because I don’t know whether I want to kiss her, protect her, or fuck her. My hand lazily rubs against her back. She tries to shimmy off my chest, but I hold her there.

“Anyway, my list is all types of crazy. It’s my way of experiencing new things since I’ve been held with a tight leash all my life. And not the sexual kind either if your perverted mind is jumping to that conclusion.”

An image of Sophie tied up runs through my mind, making my pants uncomfortably tight.

“That’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself. But the list is a cool idea. Nothing like trying out a bunch of new things while traveling to all these different places.”

“If you could do anything in the world besides F1, what would you do?” Her question throws me for a loop. Where the fuck did she pull that one from?

I think about it for a good two minutes while Sophie lies on my chest, her head pressed against my beating heart while she waits.

“You like heavy-hitting questions. If I wasn’t racing, I’d probably go to school for something. Maybe to study architecture. I’ve loved checking out the buildings we visit in different cities and learning their stories.” The nerd in me shines through.

“Wow. A man who appreciates old-world history.”

“Have you always wanted to be an accountant?” I don’t get the appeal for someone like her because I can’t envision her sitting in an office all day long crunching numbers.

“Eh, no.” She giggles to the point of snorting. Damn, I got her some good weed.

“Then what would you do if you weren’t studying to become an office junkie?”

She lets out a nervous laugh. Has anyone asked her this before?

“I love art.” She says the three words in the faintest whisper like she is sharing a secret, adding it to our growing list.

I give her a squeeze. “What kind of art?”

“I do all types. Painting, drawing, but I especially love charcoal because I like to get my hands all dirty and smudge the lines.” Her voice betrays her excitement.

“Do you still do it? I haven’t seen you with any art supplies this summer.”

“Not as much anymore. Once I got busy with school, I stopped, except for a few classes I did on the side for elective credits. Plus, my dad appreciates respectable careers if he’s going to finance my degree. If I told him I was switching my major, I think he’d have a heart attack.” She sounds wistful and sad at once.

My heart pinches, an unfamiliar feeling for me. She won’t follow her own interests because of her dad?

“It’s never too late to follow your dreams and see where they take you. Look at me. You’re lying down with one of the best drivers in F1.”

“Your humbleness never ceases to amaze me. I mean, I can try while on the road.”

I stare into the darkness, avoiding everything inside of me telling me to make a move on Sophie. It’s a torturous experience. “You should. If you’re creative, take advantage. I lack any of that shit.” My arms tighten around her, loving the feeling of her lying across my chest.

What the hell is happening to me?

“Tell me a secret of yours. I feel like I always share while you barely do. So what gives?” She taps a finger against my chest.

I take a few deep breaths, regulating my heart rate. She tempts me to share everything with her.

Sophie lets out a deep exhale. “I was joking. You don’t have to share something if you don’t want to.”

She gives me an out, making me feel something I can’t label for the life of me. Her selflessness and her ability to not push me gives me the strength to put myself out there because if I can’t trust her, is she really my friend? God, I’m really a sucker for her.

“People think they know me, but they don’t.”

“Which people?” she says plainly, not an ounce of judgment in her voice.

“Friends, fans, my team. The person they know is far from the person I really am. I’ve mastered an image they want to see.”

She takes a moment, crickets sounding off in the dark woods surrounding us. “What’s your reasoning for doing that? Is it to protect your privacy?”

“No.” I swallow, holding back the growing anxiety building inside of me.

“Then?” She lifts off my chest and sits.

“It’s stupid,” I grumble, running a hand down my face.

“If it means something to you, then it can’t be stupid. But you should know that it’s okay to hide parts of yourself from the public. For you and your sanity.”