Wrecked (Dirty Air Series Book 3)

In the past six weeks I’ve worked with Jax, he never openly expressed disliking me. I thought part of his witty comments were because I could take his shit before handing it back with a smile. But tonight, as he does the exact opposite of what I asked of him yet again, maybe I need to accept how he dislikes me after all.

Jax somehow had me agree to go to some club with him to celebrate his second-place win for the Barcelona GP. To be fair, he told me he would stay calm because he was there to hang out with Liam and Sophie. My mistake was believing him in the first place. Clearly, I’m an idiot because he did exactly what I should’ve expected.

For the first hour, he was relatively normal. That is until he disappeared for a solid ten minutes claiming he had a phone call to answer. After he returned from whomever he spoke to, he knocked back multiple rounds of whiskey despite my protests. When I told him Liam would carry his drunk ass home, he laughed in my face. Safe to say that conversation sucked.

Liam has been shoving glasses of water at him whenever possible, but Jax is too far gone. Now, a few women dance around him, groping him while he gets lost in the music.

The whole thing is disgusting. But also, it’s beyond heartbreaking. His pain is obvious to the point that I feel it deep within my chest as if it were my own. It’s hard not to miss the hurt he tries to hide. In his eyes, in his attitude, in his need to close himself off from everyone.

I don’t know what pushed him over. And I don’t know how to help, let alone how to talk to him.

“I haven’t seen him this drunk…well, I think ever.” Sophie stares at Jax with her eyes wide open.

“That’s because he didn’t do it in front of you. This season he’s been different though, with him being less collected than usual.” Liam’s eyes track his friend’s movements. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything to hurt all the work Elena’s done to help him.”

“Do you know why he acts out like this? He won’t tell me anything,” I probe, hoping Liam has some answers.

“Sometimes he gets pissed. It’s random so it’s not like I can pin down the cause of it. But when he gets in this mood, it’s better to leave him be so he clears his head.”

“Which head, because the way those women grab onto him makes me think we are talking about two different types.” My stomach twists in knots at the thought of some woman coming to our suite tonight. I don’t know what to make of my tiny surge of jealousy. There’s no place for it in my line of work, yet I can’t ignore it.

Turns out Jax isn’t the only one slipping up tonight.

Liam grimaces. “Emotionally he’s off. But he’s been better this season—at least in the media. Of course, that’s all thanks to you. Thank God you put an end to the public blowjobs and trashy women exiting his suite at all hours of the day.”

I fail to hide the way my body cringes. “Great. Glad to know I’m doing something right.” I look away as I roll my eyes. I’m tempted to go back to the hotel and leave Liam to take care of him. Instead, I stay because of my job, and because Jax looks lost even though groupies surround him like he’s a homing beacon.

“Ugh. Don’t bring up his bed-fellow behavior. It’s disgusting.” Sophie elbows Liam in the ribs.

“I’m going to go check on him.” I stand, not wanting to sit through another minute of this torture. No one is having fun tonight but Jax, who looks drunk and depressed as he sways to the music. It’s about time I call an end to all of this because it’s my job, whether I like it or not.

I sidestep sweaty dancers and men with grabby hands as I move through the crowd of club-goers. Jax is easy to spot, with his tall frame and the small hoard of women pawing at him. I push through them and stand in front of him.

“Love, is that you?” He smiles at me, all goofy with glazed eyes.

“Who’s she?” A woman clutches onto his arm, pointing at me with a red-tipped finger.

“The best part of my day,” Jax answers with another smile.

Well, that’s unexpected. My heart thumps in my chest faster than before.

“She can go now. I promise to be the best part of your night.” She turns her back on me, inching closer to Jax.

Gross. I roll my eyes before yelling over the music. “Are you sure about that? I should warn you both then. Jax, the doctor called and said the rash on your penis is herpes. Make sure to wrap it up tonight if you plan on sleeping together.” My voice carries loud and clear.

The woman purses her lips in disgust and abandons Jax, leaving a drunken mess for me to deal with.

“Now that’s not nice.” He pouts his lips.

“I’m not here to be nice.”

“I know that. You’re here to ruin my life.” He lets out a soft sigh.

“What do you mean? Half the time you say things I don’t understand.”

“Dance with me?” He ignores me.

“Are you out of your mind? You’re so drunk you can’t even stand straight.”

He grunts. “Okay, forget dancing. How about fucking? It can be done lying down.”

“I’d be impressed if your dick even worked after the amount of alcohol you’ve consumed.”

“Let’s test it out.” He has the audacity to act all smug at his idea.

I close my eyes as I count to ten, willing myself to be patient with him. Ten seconds too long, giving Jax the opportunity to close the gap between us.

My eyes open to find his half-lidded gaze inches away. Jax’s body presses against mine, the hard edges of him meeting my softer curves. It feels like my body comes alive, bursting with energy, pulsing like the speakers in the club. His scent of spice and whiskey wraps around me as sweaty bodies push us closer together.

He holds my chin between his index finger and thumb. “Why you? Why couldn’t it be anyone but you?” The loud music can’t conceal the pain in his voice.

“For the job? I was available. It’s nothing against you, por el amor de Dios.”

“That’s not the question I’m asking,” he slurs.

“Estás tan borracho, it’s not even funny. We need to get you home.”

Jax has another idea as he tugs me into him. One of his arms wraps around my body as his lips find mine. His kiss is anything but gentle. It demands, stealing my breath and rationality away in one go. The taste of whiskey floods my mouth as his tongue dominates mine, testing my resistance.

My fingers clutch onto his shirt, desperate for something to stabilize me. To connect me to the ground before my mind drifts away.

And damn I’m tempted to let every worry about him fly away as his tongue strokes my bottom lip.

Oh. My. God. What is he doing? And more importantly, why am I not pushing him away? His kiss heats up my body. It’s a feeling I’ve never had before—one addicting despite the wrongness of the situation.

He’s drunk.

I have a job to do.

He has too many mood swings to be deemed stable.

The list could go on and on.

“Jax.” I rip my lips away from him, unclenching my fingers from his shirt and placing my hands against his chest with every intention of pushing him away. Except I’m stuck in place, not moving, because his touch is electric. Toxic. Addictive.

It’s everything I should avoid while being everything I desire.

His mouth moves onto my neck, his tongue darting out to run down the column. A shiver works its way down my spine when he sucks on the sensitive skin.

I lean into him, needing support, both emotionally and physically. “We need to stop this before we do something we’ll regret.” I sound as breathless as I feel.

His tongue traces a mindless pattern down my neck. “I live every day with regrets. What’s one more?” His sad voice hits me right in the chest.

He nips at sensitive flesh, eliciting the smallest moan from me. One I hope he can’t hear over the music.

I shove at his chest, finally getting the distance I need. “And whose fault is that?”

“Mine. Always has been. Always will be.” He sighs as he stares at my lips with clouded eyes.

My heart beats in unison with the thump of the speakers—fast, irregular, and loud enough to hear in my ears. With little protest from Jax, I lead him back to the VIP table.

Liam and Sophie’s attention snaps to us. Sophie struggles to hide her smile while Liam shakes his head, rubbing his temple.

Mierda. I’d rather go back into the crowd and hide for the rest of the night than face these two.

“Well, you got him under control in under fifteen minutes. I’m impressed. I usually have to drag him out of the crowd.” Liam stands and grabs his friend, letting him lean against him. At least he has enough sympathy to save me from my embarrassment.

I’m grateful for the low lighting hiding how my face resembles the color of a brake light.

“Your secret is safe with me.” Sophie pinches her fingers together and makes an invisible zipper symbol across her lips before throwing the fake key behind her shoulder.

I let out a nervous laugh as Liam eyes me with pinched brows. He doesn’t say anything, choosing to focus his attention on Jax. Both of them remain normal as we make our way through the club. We exit through the back entrance to escape paparazzi. A rental car driver greets us, opening the rear door for us. Liam pushes Jax into the back seat.

Sophie looks at Liam. “You should talk to him. It’s not only about him anymore, you know, because Elena’s job depends on him, too.” She frowns at Jax as she shimmies into the center seat next to him, forcing me to sit on the other side of her. Probably best, seeing as Jax already mauled me by accident.

Right. Because his lips fell on mine. Who am I fooling?

This is fantastic. Really, my confidence in my work is at an all-time high.

Not.

I close the car door. “It’s fine, please don’t speak to him. I’ll handle it and talk to him about this not happening again.”

“Of course, she can talk to me. She always wants to talk to me. She won’t run away no matter how many times I tell her to go,” Jax mumbles.

“Ignore him. He says stupid shit when he’s wasted.” Liam enters the passenger seat, shooting Jax a look that tells me he wishes his friend would shut up and go to sleep.

“Sober words, honest thoughts.” Jax laughs to himself.

“No, asshole. Drunken words, sober thoughts,” Sophie corrects him.

“Oh, got it. So, does that mean it’s okay for me to tell Elena I think she’s pretty?”

Sophie throws her head back against the headrest and laughs. “Sure, go right ahead. Finally, the night is getting interesting. Why don’t you tell us how you truly feel?”

“Don’t encourage him,” Liam grumbles.

“Elena is so pretty it hurts to look at her.” Jax’s words cause a steady buzz to take up residence in my stomach like I chugged a two-liter bottle of soda in under two minutes. I’m seriously messed up.

“Then why are you a moody jerk around her?” Sophie taunts him.

“Because I can be.”

Liam groans. “That’s a bad reason.”

“Fine. Because I don’t have a choice.” He snarls.

“That’s an even worse reason. You’re not getting the point.” Sophie taps Jax’s temple.

Liam twists his body around the seat and smiles at Sophie. “Probably because he drank enough to kill off a majority of his brain cells.”

Sophie clasps her hands together. “He’s supposed to compliment her and then apologize.”

“You can’t make Jax do anything he doesn’t want to do. That’s what makes him…well…so Jax.” Liam looks over at his friend.

And that right there is my biggest dilemma. I want to know what makes Jax feel like he doesn’t deserve anything good in his life.

I want to know about the man who hides behind trashy news articles and mindless sex. The man who whispers to himself about not being good enough.

I want to know more about him, and I’m not sure if I have enough control to hold myself back from trying.

The moment Jax wakes up, I’m in his space. He looks about as fresh as one would expect after drinking their mind into a stupor the night before. I wouldn’t be surprised if his skin tasted like his precious bottle of Jack. The image of me doing that to him has me swallowing back my groan. I shove the thought into the darkest corner of my mind, hoping it never sees the light of day.

I rise from the couch and follow him into our small kitchen. “We need to talk about last night.”

“I ask for very few things in life. The first is that no one bothers me before my morning tea. And the second is that no one bothers me after my morning tea.”

“Jax…” I warn.

“Fine. There’s not much to say. My head aches to the point of wanting to hurl, so please save your speech for when I feel like I can stand straight without the world spinning.”

“How about I help you. Start with the words ‘I’m sorry, Elena,’ and go from there.”

He eyes me as he starts his electric water kettle. “Are you mad because I drank?”

“Yes.” The words come out in a hiss. “What if Liam wasn’t there to help me? What if a random person took a video and posted it online? I’ve spent the better half of this morning scouring the internet to make sure no one reported anything bad about you. You told me you would try to be better, and I want to believe you, but then you do stuff like this, making me question how serious you are about your own career!” My accent grows heavier as I become more frustrated.

His bloodshot eyes slide from the tea kettle to my face. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t mean to get that pissed?”

“Why are you able to be pissed? You’re the one who kissed me! And got drunk! I should be pissed.”

He shakes his head before wincing. “Pissed means drunk. Jesus, I drank too much.”

“And what about the kiss? You can’t do that anymore.”

“Kiss?” His eyebrows scrunch together.

My heart takes a dive somewhere into my stomach. I didn’t expect him to not remember. For some reason, his amnesia feels like another form of rejection.

Allow me to introduce another layer of fucked up between us.

“Did we kiss?” He says the words in a hoarse whisper. His eyes land on my face before they close.

I stare at him, attempting to keep my cool. It takes everything in me to not go to my room and lick my wounds in private. Some things take precedence, like teaching him a lesson. “Everything that happened last night won’t happen again.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Shit. I’m sorry for kissing you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I’m not talking about that anymore. I’m going to pretend it never happened since you already have.” Okay, I sounded slightly bitter. “I’m talking about you getting drunk and out of control.”

He abandons fixing his tea to give me his undivided attention. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I haven’t drunk like that since the break, and clearly my system didn’t agree.”

My anger returns like a wave, uncontrollable as it sweeps through me. “That apology would suffice if I hadn’t asked you over and over to stop drinking. I thought the suite party was your last hurrah, but clearly I was wrong. I can’t help someone who is hell-bent on ruining their own damn life. And not that you care, but it’s not only your career on the line—it’s mine too. Did you ever take a second to think about how your reputation affects mine? It’s not fair for you to go dragging me down with you because you have a superiority complex and a will to kill off all your functioning brain cells before the age of thirty.”

Jax strides over to me, standing toe to toe. Our proximity reminds me of last night. Of his lips on my skin, kissing me, licking me, nipping me. I suppress a shiver at the memory. I’d rather feel anger than attraction.

He stares into my eyes before he closes his. “I’m honestly sorry I did exactly what I said I would avoid doing. I’m sorry for putting my reputation at risk, therefore risking yours too. Even if I don’t want your help, I don’t want to ruin the effort you’ve put into building your business. And most of all, I’m sorry for kissing you when I was drunk.” He winces.

“Yeah, well, sorry won’t cut it anymore. Words are empty. They don’t mean anything unless you back them up.”

He fists his hands by his side. “That’s exactly my problem. I can’t back up the words I want to say, so all I do is get angry.”

“Why?” The question bouncing around in my head for the past few months escapes me. Why is he the way he is? Why can’t he do what he wants? Why does he choose to make destructive decisions?Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“I’m not getting into this with you.”

“If you won’t talk to me, then learn how to control yourself.”

He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Don’t you get it? That’s all I’ve tried to do.”

I step away and throw my hands in the air. “What do you mean? You’re beyond frustrating! Honestly, you give me a serious case of emotional whiplash.”

“Controlling myself includes staying the fuck away from you. Looking at you annoys me because it reminds me of everything going wrong in my life,” he blurts out.

I eliminate the last bit of space between us, placing my hand on his bicep. “What’s going wrong?”

He looks at my hand, the fire in his gaze fading as his eyes shut. “It’s not about what’s going wrong because everything is wrong. Including having you around.”

What does someone say to that?

I don’t have a chance to think of a response because Jax strolls into his room, closing me off once again.