Collided (Dirty Air, #2)

by Lauren Asher

“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.”

“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.”

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

Earlier, I didn’t blink when the security man ruffled through my carry-on, pulling out my bag of cereal like it insulted him. Yes, I still eat sugary cereals. Sue me. I’m a twenty-one-year-old with the dietary range of a child. But my list includes try new food, right next to do karaoke while drinking and go skydiving. Baby steps, right?

He flashes me a smile across the bar. Ovaries, please settle down.

Have you seen Liam? His looks alone could get me pregnant.”

“No, I don’t play at all. I fuck, I own, I dominate. Playing is for boys, and I can assure you I’m all man.” He smirks down at me.

“I can because I’m here to fight dirty. If you gave in to your desires, you’d know that. I want to learn every inch of you while I map out your body like the night sky you love so damn much. And fuck it’d be so good between us, with me showing you things you never thought possible.” His tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip.

“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 throat closes up. He says nothing because he doesn’t need to. The way his arms tighten around me and the kiss he leaves on the top of my head say everything.

“The one we both already lost. Fuck ignoring how we feel because we’re both too chickenshit to do anything about it.”

People tend to treat others like glass. With caution, in fear of breaking the person and shattering their heart. But with Sophie, I handle that shit like a bomb, as if she can explode any second. She’s a ticking clock with a fuck ton of complicated wires. Once detonated, shrapnel and crap fly everywhere, piercing you from all directions, fucking you up from the inside out. Both explosive and disastrous.

“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.

It’s ironic how, while exploring myself and learning who I am, I discovered someone else who brought out the absolute best and the downright worst in me. Falling in love is ugly like that. And damn if ours turns out to be the ugliest of them all.

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

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

She’s my star in the dark sky, shining bright and guiding me back from the shadows. But unfortunately, the lights will shut down in a few days, casting us in an endless darkness. Because in the end, us together is like a stormy evening—starless, dark, and destructive.

anyone who earns your love better be worthy because your heart takes up more than half your body. You carry more soul in your pinkie than some people have in their whole bodies.”

“I’m not mopey. I’m a bad bitch who enjoys the comfort of pajamas and wine as a food group.”

“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.” He leaves no room for opposition.