Collided: Dirty Air (Book 2)(51)

His words make my stomach twist. With one last glance, I step outside of the conference room to find Jax leaning against the wall.

He glances at me with wary eyes. “Hey, I thought you could use a break from this place.”

“Let’s go.” I follow him out of the McCoy motorhome, leaving behind my shitty mood.

Jax and I make our way to a local pub, hiding in a corner booth far from potential fans. We order food and drinks.

“So, what happened?”

“They got pissed about Sophie and my reputation. Blah blah, same old shit.” I tear at the label on my beer bottle while Jax watches me.

“Is there a reason for them to be worried?” His raised brow doesn’t sit well with me. I’m tired of people questioning my shit, making me second-guess every move I make.

“Why the hell should they? I can fuck whomever I want without their approval, as long as it isn’t Peter’s niece.”

“So, you and Sophie are hooking up now?”

I take a sip of my beer. “No. But it shouldn’t matter either way. I promised to be good and to not draw attention to myself. Never did I say I would be a damn monk for months.”

“And how’s the not drawing attention to yourself working out for you?” He tilts his head and smirks.

“Screw you. How was I supposed to know some reporter would mention me hanging out with a friend at a press conference?”

“The same way you should have guessed they would wonder if you’re using your friend to get ahead with Bandini.”

“Seeing as they already offered Santiago a two-year contract, that shit is irrelevant. And Noah will probably race with Bandini until he retires.”

He shakes his head. “Seriously, though. What do you plan on doing about your friendship? Please tell me all this hassle and drama is worth it. Are you at least getting some?”

“No. But not because I don’t try.”

“Tell me more. Open up to Dr. Kingston.” He folds his hands in front of him.

“I pushed her before she was ready. The furthest we’ve gone is phone sex and kissing.”

“Phone sex? What are you, a fifteen-year-old boy lusting after his first girlfriend?”

I grind my molars together. “Fuck off. She kissed me a few nights ago, thank you very much.”

“Okay, I’ll stop being a dick. But really, you need to do something about your situation.”

“And what exactly do you suggest, seeing as the closest female friend you’ve had is our fifty-year-old massage therapist.”

“I can give good advice when I want to. And don’t hate on my relationship with Ms. Jenkins when you’re only jealous she gives me a lollipop after our sessions.”

I rub my temples with my fingers. “You do understand you’re all over the place, right?”

“That’s what keeps life interesting. You never know what you’re going to get with me. But anyway, I reckon that you need to give Sophie what she desires if you want any chance of hooking up with her.”

“Feelings?” I choke on the word.

“I mean, do you really not feel anything for her?” Jax lifts a brow.

“I didn’t say that. I just don’t feel the extreme kind of love she might end up wanting.” I take a swig of my beer to soothe my aching throat.

“You can care about someone without wanting to marry them and love them forever. Girls love thoughtful shit. Someone like her won’t have sex with someone with your past if you don’t show her you like her for more than good looks.”

“But we’re friends. What else more can I do?”

“Besides terrible phone sex?” He fights a smile.

I shoot him a pointed glare.

“Show her you care and won’t dump her after hooking up a few times. Of course, she doesn’t want to be another conquest in your long list, especially if it puts your friendship at risk.”

What the fuck have I gotten myself into? I know shit is going to hit the fan when Jax starts making sense.





17





Sophie





After the Canadian press conference from hell, I imagined riots in the Bandini motorhome with signs declaring a traitor in our camp. I thought about crew members wanting to burn me on a pillar while my dad struggles to give me up, stuck between appeasing the fan base and saving me. Realistically, the only one who truly could give me the third degree sits across from me with his jaw ticking.

My dad and I take up shop in the Bandini motorhome, prepping for the European Grand Prix. I have no shame admitting how I’ve avoided him ever since Liam’s press conference in Canada. We conveniently booked separate flights to Baku months ago, allowing me to evade him for two days. The jig was up once he asked me to visit him in his office. He makes me sit and take his glares and growls while he answers inopportune phone calls.

“Please tell me why the hell my daughter is featured in the latest trashy magazine? Because I can’t fucking wrap my head around why your name is being associated with Liam Zander and his bedroom.”

Okay. Sadly, the few days of distance have done little to ease his anger.

“I swear I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“Why don’t you be clearer?” He takes a deep breath.