Collided (Dirty Air, #2)

by Lauren Asher

Someone leans against the table where I spread out my art supplies. My eyes trail his jean-clad legs before they land on golden arms crossed over a firm torso. Tense muscles pull against the black fabric. I hold my breath as my eyes meet two icy-blue ones, the color of melting glacier water in the Arctic. I’m an artist, not a poet.

“What’s your favorite book?” Doubt colors my voice.

“If you have a favorite, I don’t trust you. Any book lover has at least five they can name off the top of their head.” His blue eyes hold mine.

“A man who prefers to live in a fantasy. How cute.” “I’d be your best fantasy, no book needed.”

“Shit. You’re hot and speak Italian.” He smiles wide at me before he looks over at the kid. “Twenty euros. Leave.”

“You’re no princess. You’re a motherfucking queen. Don’t let anyone forget it, not even yourself. People think the king matters, but the queen brings down all the other pieces. Good luck in uni, and chug a beer in my honor.”

Damn. I think I just got mindfucked.

Men should be the least of his worries because, excuse my language, but I’m ready to fuck shit up.

My dick really got me in trouble this time. Usually, we work together because two heads are better than one.

“Smart girl. I’m making it my project to help you with this. It’ll be our secret.”

“See, Sophie, I drive like I fuck. Slow, then fast, then slow again until you’re all out of gas. I treat my car like a lover, stroking her before I enter her, only offering the best kind of foreplay for my girl. I don’t recklessly race because I prefer to be attentive. I fuck like I do everything else, with precision and strength—control and care.”

“Everyone knows the books are better than the movies or TV shows.” “Says who?” “Says everyone who reads books!”

“But remember this. I want to get to know all of you, including the parts you’re too scared to share. I want to learn about the man no one else knows. So give me every part of you because I’m not here to piece you back together. I like you too much, just the way you are, broken parts and all.”

“That’s my fear with someone like you. You take and take until I have nothing left to give. You’d be easy to fall in love with until you walk away, breaking my heart in the process.”

“Thank you for believing in me and reminding me of something I thought was long forgotten. I can’t express what that means to me.”

“My beautiful angel. Too wicked for heaven, too good for hell.” I may be his beautiful angel, but he’s my masked devil—too naughty for my heart, too irresistible for my body.

“I haven’t heard you speak German before.” I raise my brows. “You think it’s sexy?” “I refuse to answer that.”

Liking Sophie is kind of like jumping out of a plane. Exhilarating, addicting, and damn near impossible to forget.

“Why does it feel so freaking good with you?” Damn, if my ego doesn’t swell from her words.

“Cheer up, Buttercup. I’m not going to get pregnant, and we can use a condom next time.”

Because life is funny that way, fucking you over without your consent.

“I’d buy you the whole damn night sky if I could.”

“I love you. I have for months, but you’ve been too blind to see it, unable to acknowledge me and my feelings. To see me.” My eyes meet his. “I can’t do this to myself anymore. The season is almost over, the list is finished, so we’re done. I’m sorry I broke your rule, but we can’t be friends anymore. So let’s cut our losses before things get complicated. Before things happen that we both can’t take back, no matter how much we may want to.” My voice chokes on the last words, my airflow constricted.

“I woke up one day and realized I can either spend the rest of my life holding on to hope that everything will fall into place…or I can shove two middle fingers at life and make it my bitch. Pardon the language, sweetheart.” Both my dad and I break out into a laugh together. “I think I prefer the second option.”

“I researched all about stars. And the funny thing was how I thought you were my star—a bright spot in my life keeping me constant company no matter how dark everything else got. But in reality, we’re stars because they are born in pairs. They’re created by a big fucking boom of dust and shit, forming into something beautiful and eternal. You’re stuck with me for life because we’re a duo.”

Join the mile-high club. Get married. Buy our first Christmas tree. Make a mini-Liam. Design Sophie’s art studio. Spend Christmas in Germany. Fuck Sophie’s back door. Buy the house first (see other). Make a mini-Sophie. Have a quickie while the kids play outside. Visit space (ambitious). Watch our child’s first kart race (either gender because feminism rules). Buy a dog (if you’re a cat person, it’s over). My eyes blink at the final item. Move to Italy and join Vitus.