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Collided: Dirty Air (Book 2)(31)

Author:Lauren Asher

“How do you make something innocent sound sexual?” I stare into his beautiful eyes, framed with dark lashes that put women’s falsies to shame. His eyes remain focused on my lips.

“Add it to my list of talents. You know, all three of them.”

Whoa. He remembers how I told him he had two talents three years ago? His attention to detail catches me off guard. Enough so, that Liam surprisingly tugs me into his body as one of his hands wraps around the base of my neck. His thumb rubs against the sensitive skin there, making my skin pebble.

He leans forward, closing his eyes, while mine remain wide open and not ready.

“Wait.” My hands push against his chest. His eyes snap open, his lips agape.

I pull out the power card, ready to slap a label on our attraction that no guy likes to hear. At least not a man who offers to make me a custom vibrator and looks at me like he wants to taste me, fuck me, and mark me for the night.

“I want to be friends. Just friends.” Words pour from my mouth as defenses get thrown up left and right, protecting me from the one person I can’t control.

Liam hits me with a pained look, his eyes wide as they flash with an unknown emotion. His body stills as he catches his breath. Weird. He leans in once more as his thumb brushes across my neck. His refreshing smell overwhelms me, playing with my senses and my mental control.

I pull my hands away from his warm chest. He plants a kiss on the top of my head, his lips pressing a second longer than necessary. Two whole seconds leave my body buzzing and my head swimming. My heart squeezes at the tender notion, unable to believe someone like him is capable of something like that.

“If that’s what makes you happy. I can be friends.” He hesitates on the last word.

“I hope so because I’m not going anywhere, and you don’t want to make things weird between us. You have enough haters this season.” I smile up at him.

I can’t help questioning why his eyes look sad. He pulls away from the door, his fists tightening at his sides.

“Have a good night, Sophie. Thanks for a night I’ll never forget.”

You and me both.

He recovers from his odd behavior, sending me a signature wink over his shoulder before he enters a waiting elevator. I let out a sigh as he disappears behind closed doors, sealing me off from the seduction trap that is Liam Zander. I may be willing to compromise on my list, but I can’t with my heart.

9

Liam

Friend-zoned. Me. Liam Zander.

I agreed to Sophie’s ridiculous notion last week because I wasn’t sure what to do. She caught me at a moment of weakness, hitting me with too many emotions. My last friend experience with the opposite gender didn’t end well and left a gaping hole. My reaction to Sophie’s request surprised me, damn nearly disabling me for the night with memories of Johanna.

Memories of us biking around our town. Of her creating fake tests to help me study for subjects I couldn’t care less about. Of her teaching me to change Elyse’s diaper, which led to me nearly throwing up in her nursery.

After one night of restless sleep, I shoved those memories so far away I hope they never come back.

I was tempted to forget about Sophie’s idea of friends. I’m an idiot to agree to something platonic when I want to fuck Sophie into next month. How the hell am I going to be friends with her? Shit like this has never happened to me before because I pull the brakes every time, quick to call things off before emotions get too hot and heavy.

The word rejection doesn’t exist in my dictionary, at least not since I asked out 8th grader Siena Weber to my 6th grade prom. Once my good looks kicked in and the braces came off, there wasn’t a woman I met who I couldn’t charm.

I stare at the cause of my problems from my seat at the press conference table for the Monaco race. Reporters drone on. Being one of the oldest races in F1 history, the Monaco Grand Prix has a reputation of extravagance, with celebrities coming to drink and party. Hence the overtime spent at press conferences and parties.

The whole crew gets hit with a long-winded question.

“Can you repeat that, sir?”

The entire table groans at Santiago’s request. Noah looks like he could strangle his teammate on the spot, his fists balled in front of him to prevent a different kind of show.

Maya and Sophie try to hold back their laughs but fail. A leering reporter shushes them rudely, staring a moment too long. Maya’s chest shakes while Sophie tries to swipe away some tears from laughing too hard.

Sophie stuns me, truly one of the most natural beauties I’ve encountered, not caring about much makeup or dressing up in seductive outfits to gain attention. She doesn’t have a single fuck to give, with slogan tees becoming her uniform.

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