Wrecked (Dirty Air Series Book 3)

“I’m going out.” Jax walks toward the main door of our Sochi hotel room.

“Uh, with whom? I thought we were staying in.” I lift from the couch. We agreed to not go out while adjusting to the jet lag after flying from Bahrain to Sochi.

“You’re staying in. I’m going to hang out with my friends.”Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

My eyes scan his face to gauge his seriousness. “You can’t leave without me. We have a deal.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and shuts his eyes. “For fuck’s sake. I want to hang out with my friends, knock back a beer or two, and catch up before our practice rounds tomorrow. It’s not exactly a rager.”

“What friends?”

“I can’t believe I have to explain myself like this.” He lets out a deep breath. “Noah, Liam, and Santiago. We plan on staying in this very hotel. If you’re so damn worried about me ruining the image you’ve been working on, don’t be.”

I sigh. “It’s part of my job to make sure you stay out of trouble.”

“Well, seeing as my friends all have squeaky clean reps now, I doubt I can muster up too much bad press.”

“Are you asking for me to trust you?”

“To want your trust means I’d have to care. And honestly, with you, I could care less.”

“Couldn’t care less. If you’re going to insult me, make sure you’re being grammatically correct. It tends to pack a bigger punch.”

Jax turns and grips the handle of the door. His back rises to match his ragged breaths. “You can trust me to not go off to a club or get drunk tonight. I only want a night with my friends. No stress, no girlfriends around them. Just a normal night to forget.”

“Forget what?” I whisper the words.

“To forget what it feels like to worry every damn day of my bloody life.”

This feels like the progress I’ve wanted since our first weekend together. It took a month longer than I expected, but the small victory feels worth celebrating.

“You can always talk to me.”

Jax looks over his shoulder, hitting me with a withdrawn gaze. “Opening up to you is the last thing I need this season. Be back later.” He opens the door and takes off, the thud of the door matching the throb in my chest.

I call Elías thirty minutes later because I don’t want to spend my night alone. He comes without any questions, proving time and time again why he’s the best person in this whole organization.

Two hours and one batch of popcorn later, Elías has erased any worries I had about Jax.

“Why did you have to pick a chick flick? I may be gay, but I still have manly preferences.”

“Last week you picked. I didn’t ask to watch the newest Marvel movie, but it’s not like you gave me an option.”

“You can’t compare Marvel to whatever this is. No self-respecting woman should take back a man who hooks up with her sister. She should have some class. Listen to a Taylor Swift song, meet a new man, and move on.” Elías dramatically lays his head on my lap.

“Easier said than done.”

“If I could, I’d be on the next dating app, no questions asked. No one would dare swipe left on me. Have you seen my cheekbones? Those suckers could make a straight man want me.”

We both laugh as he shows off said bone structure I’m slightly jealous of.

He taps his chin. “What if I quit F1, become an influencer, and then we travel the world together? Let’s be honest, I’d probably get a ton of views and you could manage me like Kris Jenner. Be my momager, please?”

I laugh obnoxiously.

“Now you two are fucking out in the open? Can I ever catch a break from you both?” Jax’s irritated voice surprises me.

My head snaps toward him, flashing a bright smile to combat his mood. “You missed the best part! Elías does this magical thing with his tongue despite me having literally all my clothes on.”

“She’s joking. We were watching a movie. Relax.” Elías puts a healthy space of distance between us.

“Whatever. You guys are weird as fuck.” Jax enters his room and shuts the door.

Elías cringes. “Whoops. Looks like Mr. Grumpy is back at it again.”

I tuck my legs under me. “You’d think after a couple of beers he’d relax a bit. I don’t get why he keeps thinking we’re hooking up.”

“There’s no use denying you’re a babe and I’m hot. It’s not a shock he’d jump to conclusions about us.”

I laugh. “He doesn’t need to be a jerk about it. It’s one thing to be annoyed, but it’s another to voice his dislike every time he sees us.”

“The reasoning is simple.”

“What do you mean?” I whisper in case Jax can hear us.

“He’s got the hots for you.”

“If by hots, you mean a burning desire to have me disappear, then yes he does.”

“Nope. Have you not noticed how he checks you out across the garage? JaxAttack may say one thing, but his dick doesn’t agree. I think it makes him even grumpier because he wants what he can’t have.”

My eyebrows raise. “And you know this how?”

“I recognize someone walking with a boner when I see them. It’s a rather awkward experience, with him wobbling away when you bend over to check out my car.”

I cover my mouth to muffle my laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

“I know it’s a shock, but Britain’s Most Ineligible Bachelor has a thing for you.”

“It’s a shock because he acts like an asshole too often for me to find him endearing.”

“But the real question is do you find him sexy? Now that’s something I wouldn’t mind exploring.” Elías waggles his brows.

“I think nice guys are sexy.”

“Snore. Boring.” He pretends to nod off.

I shove his shoulders. “Who said they were boring?”

“Me! I had to sit next to them for multiple dinners.”

“Really, what was wrong with them?” I cross my arms.

“Juan was sweet but a sucky lay based on all your stories. Poor guy didn’t stand a chance against you in the bedroom. Your alpha needs couldn’t be met, let alone satisfied. And Pablo needed to get his head out of his ass and move out of his parents’ house. Even flowers and chocolate lose their appeal when it comes out of a twenty-five-year-old’s allowance from his parents. Miguel—sweet Americanized Miguel—was amazing at the time; I’ll give you that. Except he was a momma’s boy who dumped you because she didn’t approve of a woman from Mexico City. She treated you like you snorted cocaine to make it through the day.”

“To be fair, Miguel’s family was sheltered.”

“From what? Common sense?”

A hysterical laugh erupts out of me. “Okay, thanks for a reminder as to why you didn’t approve of any of my boyfriends.”

“I’m only trying to tell you that Jax might like you, so he probably struggles with that. Maybe that’s why he’s extra mean to you.”

“Well, that’s not a good enough reason to be a jerk. At least not for me. I’m not into the grumpy guy is mean to the girl he really likes plot. It’s a bit overused and dated for my taste.”

“But think of how fun it would be if you gave in. I’m sweating here thinking about it.”

I roll my eyes, getting up from the couch. “You need to go. I’ve had enough of this intervention.”

Elías walks to the door and steps out into the empty hallway. He flashes me a lopsided grin. “Face it. Maybe you need to try one round with a naughty boy to realize what you’ve been missing.”

“Says the guy who is sweeter than a bottle of ponche. Good night and sweet dreams.”

“A true friend would wish for me to have naughty dreams. The naughtier the better.”

I giggle as I shut the door. Naughty dreams might be good for orgasms, but bad for the heart. Hate to break it to Elías, but Jax Kingston is not what the doctor ordered.

Based on Jax’s recent history on the track, I didn’t expect him to land on the podium every race this season. My eyes stay glued to him as he exits his race car after placing second for the Sochi Grand Prix.

The cocky man did it. He got between Noah and Santiago, which alone is a huge accomplishment compared to his laid-back approach last year.

“Damn, why can’t he suck this year? I order you to stop helping him. Honestly, I can’t handle this level of betrayal from my best friend.” Elías tugs me into a hug. His sweaty race suit presses against me.

“Ay Dios, ¡para! You smell disgusting.” I wrinkle my nose and gag.

“This is the smell of labor and love. You wouldn’t understand with your recent plush lifestyle of private jets and fancy hotel rooms.”

“You caught me. There’s absolutely no work required when dealing with your teammate all day, every day.” I stick out my tongue at him.

“Elena, I need you to help me with something.” Jax’s prickly voice catches our attention.

“Duty calls.” I throw my hands to the side and do a twirl in my heels before walking away from Elías.

“You needed me?” I stop in front of Jax.

“Follow me. I’ve got shit to do before we fly out tonight and I don’t have time to sit around while you flirt with Cruz.”

“Alllll right.” I drag out the words. One would think after placing on a podium, Jax would be in better spirits.

I was wrong. So very wrong.

I follow Jax through the empty McCoy halls to his private suite. Somehow, a month around him helped me build resilience to his attitude. My days include a morning reminder of how I’m not here to play nice, followed by wishing my coffee was something of the alcoholic variety.

“If you plan on sleeping with him, at least give me a warning. I want to stay away from you both when shit hits the fan.”

I stop in my tracks and laugh up to the ceiling. “Why are you jealous? It’s not like you try to hang out with me.”

He grimaces. “This has nothing to do with jealousy.”

“Weird because for some odd reason your words sound an awful lot like it.”

His race sneakers squeak against the tile floor as he eats up the space between us. Everything about him draws me in despite our contrasting personalities. We’re like two magnets. With a flip, we’re polar opposites, but if he stopped being an ass, I have a feeling we’d click into place.

“Jealousy means I have to like you, or at the very least want you.” His darkening eyes trail down my body, failing to match his words.

He intoxicates my brain with a simple glance and a curl of his lip. Some wires in my brain must be crossed if I’m attracted to his level of assholery.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“How so?”

I lean in closer, giving him a good look down my blouse. How can I give a damn about modesty when I’m trying to prove a point? I’m done dealing with his attitude for the week. “You may dislike having me around, but I have a theory it has more to do with you wanting me than you hating my help. You can’t help craving something more and it scares you.”

Okay, my last sentence is a hunch influenced by Elías, but a plausible hunch, nonetheless.

“Cravings are for weak people.” His eyes remain on my chest.

The heat of his gaze acts like invisible fingers tracing across my skin. I ignore the goosebumps left behind. “You’re right. Cravings are for the weak who don’t have the balls to chase after what they want.”

Flirting with disaster has a look, and this is it. The flash in his eyes should warn me away. Instead, I stay rooted to the floor, unmoving as he leans in. Everything stops around me as his lips lightly trail the curve of my neck. Hot air escapes his mouth, causing me to shiver at our nearness.

I didn’t expect him to get this close. Hell, I didn’t expect his lips to feel amazing on my skin. His tongue darts out, running down the column of my neck. My legs threaten to buckle.

“Oh, I chase after what I want. Hate to break it to you, but you’re not it, love.” He steps away and enters his suite, leaving me confused and slightly embarrassed as he shuts the door.

Jax does want me. He’s a liar, attempting to convince himself more than me about his disinterest.

After taking a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart, I enter his suite. My eyes scan the empty room before landing on the closed bathroom door. I stop myself from knocking once Jax speaks.

“Cut this shit out. You can’t keep going on like this, shaking and ruminating and shit when you’re supposed to be celebrating. No wonder it’s been years since you won a World Championship. You’re a pathetic wanker who can’t win because you’re too busy doubting yourself.”

Oh, no. Everything spins around me as I try to wrap my head around how much contempt Jax saves for himself. A small kernel of guilt shoots through me at eavesdropping, but I need all the help I can get to understand him better. Even if it comes at the expense of something I’m not exactly proud of.

“She’s right. You’re a weak piece of shit. Anyone who got a look at you right now would agree.” His voice cracks.

I cringe at him referencing what I said. I don’t really think he’s weak. Maybe slightly delusional and frustratingly oppositional, but not weak in the slightest. It’s hard to ignore the sharp pain shooting through my chest as he continues on with his self-hate speech.

“You’re going to go to the cool-down room and act like you usually do. Then you’re going to call Mum and Dad later and suck it up like a man. No more anxiety shit after talking to them. Grow the fuck up.”

My heart aches to the point of bursting. I step away from the door, knowing he deserves a semblance of privacy.

I sit on a couch and turn my back away from the bathroom, mulling over everything he said. My stomach clenches at the notion of listening in on him clearly having a moment of distress. I’m not proud of snooping, even if I learned about a crucial part of Jax he keeps hidden from the world. Who knew the dislike he has for me is equal to what he saves for himself?

The door creaks open a few minutes later. My spine straightens as Jax’s eyes burn a hole into my back. “Do you still need my help with whatever you mentioned in the garage?”

Okay, I didn’t sound half as guilty as I feel.

He lets out a deep sigh. “Not anymore. I handled it. We better go celebrate the win before Connor loses his shit. Can’t be late to my own podium.”

I ignore the desire to console him. He moves toward the main door, silently prompting me to follow. His eyes remain hidden behind a pair of dark glasses as we walk toward the podium, pretending as if nothing happened.

As if I didn’t find a breaking point in his rough exterior.

As if I don’t want to like him more than I dislike him.

As if I don’t want to help him for more than a paycheck at the end of the season.

And the last one is the most concerning thought of all.

“If it isn’t my favorite fixer?” Connor motions for me to take a seat across from his desk. His office is bare, with no personal mementos to decorate the place. I find it unwelcoming and sterile.

“I can tell by your face you think this place is boring. I won’t lie to you—I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop, wondering when the board will revoke me of my job.” His eyes find mine, flashing with an openness I find refreshing compared to Jax.

“Not if I can help it on my end.” I raise my chin with confidence.

“That’s the spirit. You’ve been doing a great job thus far. Well done keeping Jax under control. And according to my sources, your first fundraiser went amazing. You should be proud of raising thousands of euros for such a great cause.”

“I’m glad you think so. I actually have something to ask you that could help improve things around here a little more.”

“Say it, and it’s yours.” Connor flashes me a sweet smile.

Wariness sets me on edge, unsure if Connor means to flirt. He must notice the shift in me based on the way he coughs before laughing.

“Oh, no. Please don’t take my willingness as anything but an extension of good faith. I truly want Jax to perform his best, and I have a feeling you’re one of the few people who could help him. I’m willing to give you anything you need to keep him at the top of his game.”

“Well, this is something I think can be useful for both teammates, actually.” Sorry, Elías. Please forgive me, but you need someone to talk to as well.

“Spit it out. Your obvious hesitation is choking me here.”

“Okay, well, I did some research about athletes and performing under stress. I think the guys could benefit from speaking to a psychologist who specializes in sports. I found a few and compiled a list of those willing to travel with McCoy’s team.”

“Why do they need a psychologist?”

“We both know Jax struggles with anxiety, and with Elías being new to the team, it wouldn’t hurt for him to talk to someone too.”

Connor rubs his chin. “And anything said in these sessions remains confidential?”

“That’s the psychologist’s job. I think it could help both guys and make a difference with managing stress and performance fears.”

Jax needs all the help he can get, and as confident as I am with my skills, I can’t compare to a mental health professional. Something in my chest tightens at the reminder of his conversation in the bathroom. There is something seriously getting in the way of him achieving what he’s capable of, and maybe talking to someone can help.

I’m willing to try anything to help him manage his anxiety.

“Done. Whatever you need is yours.” Connor looks at me and smiles.

“I’m going to need you to somehow convince Jax it’s a part of his contract. I doubt he’d go to these sessions willingly.”

“He’ll do what I say. Give me a week to get the contract with the psychologist settled. I assume you’ll email me the list of potential ones,” Connor says with an authority I haven’t seen in him yet.

“Yes, sure.” I lick my lips. “I have one last favor.”

Connor sighs. “Why do I feel like this is one I’m going to regret?”

“Sorry.” I cringe. “Can you please pretend you’re the one who came up with this? Jax will hate me if he found out I forced a psychologist on him.”

“He won’t hate you.”

Seeing as Jax has vocalized time and time again how much he hates talking about his feelings, I have a hard time believing Connor.

I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “Trust me, he would.”

“Jax can’t hate anyone. He hates the world and the shitty cards dealt to people, but he can’t hate you. Trust me—I’ve known him for a while.”

I have no idea what to make of his comment.

Connor doesn’t give me a chance to ask what he means. “I know he’s been difficult, but he’s a good guy. A loyal family man who has some issues that can get in his way. He’s been a bit lost, but I know he’ll get out of this. I like your idea of the psychologist. And don’t worry, I’ll pretend it’s my doing.”

“Thank you.” Relief washes away my previous anxiousness.

I count today as a win for Team Elena.