Redeemed (Dirty Air, #4)

by Lauren Asher

I wish to find someone who appreciates my presence instead of destroying it.

“Because those who see beauty in chaos also see flowers instead of weeds, and that’s a gift in a world like ours.”

What can I say? There’s no better way to break the awkwardness than to compliment a man. Their egos are like starved plants in need of sunshine.

“Have you heard of Formula 1?” I can’t believe I’m asking someone this question. This is most definitely a first for me. “Kind of? Is that the one where they drive around in circles like the movie Cars?” A laugh bursts out of me. “No. That’s NASCAR. Please don’t insult me again by comparing F1 to that.”

And I don’t want to know what the internet says about him.” “What about the reports on how he’s hung like a horse?” “No! Not even that!”

Santiago knowing how to cook completely disarms me in a new kind of way. I lean against the counter, captivated by him cutting up onions like he’s a hot Spanish version of Gordon freaking Ramsey.

Screw Love Island, I’m here for the kitchen island.

“I didn’t know you could cook. Like really cook, you know, with fancy knives and real vegetables.” “I’m almost scared to ask what you mean by ‘real vegetables.’”

It’s as if he emits pheromones, trapping me with muscles, a sexy Spanish accent, and timid smiles.

“Why do you even want my trust anyway? That’s not a requirement of fake dating.” “Because some people in life are worth the extra effort.”

Some kisses stoke a passion. Some kisses heal the soul. Kissing Chloe is a combination of two—the sweetest medicine that leads to a lifelong addiction.

Chloe’s eyes bounce between my lips and my eyes. “That was…” Real. Incredible. Fucking undeniable and if you friend-zone me again I swear to God I’ll kiss the word straight out of your vocabulary.

I’ll own up to being a grandma because I barely go out anyway. I mean, I embroider as a hobby. I’m practically one year away from fostering cats and living the rest of my life attached to an oxygen tank.”

If she’s the princess who picks wildflowers and radiates sunshine, then I’m the beast—scarred with a personality to match. And like the beast, I’m better off left alone. Newsflash

While people like me shrivel away in the shadows, people like her create their own light. She’s like the moon who shines bright despite the never-ending darkness. And she makes me want to wish that daylight never comes again.

“It’s less than two hours away. I drove in races longer than that.” “Oh okay, Mr. I’m a famous racer, hear me brag. Are you forgetting I grew up in New York? I never went anywhere!”

“Is that supposed to be a con?” “That and a red flag.” “Well, when it comes to you, consider me colorblind.”

She’s always been beautiful. But her by my side while I battle my demons? It’s a look that can’t compare.

it’s not about the amount of people who do—but rather the quality of that care—that matters.

I don’t want to see the world through rose-colored glasses. I want to see it with a wildflower heart like yours, desperately chasing after what makes me happy, wild, and free.

“Is this your way of getting me to come over every single day once I get my own apartment in town?” He smirks. “No. This is my way of getting you to stay. Permanently. I don’t want you to move out.” “We can’t live together. We’re not even married!” He laughs. “Is that a necessity? Because I can amend that problem very fast.” I smack his arm. “Don’t joke.” “Who said anything about joking?” “You want me to move in with you? Like forever?” “Unless you have somewhere else to go, I think that’s what permanently means.” I roll my eyes. “You can’t be serious.” “I am.” “You’re crazy.” “So are you.” “I don’t cook.” He laughs. “I do.” I tick off another finger on my hand. “I don’t clean very much.” “There’s a maid for that.” “I leave my makeup all over the counter, and my clothes never make it into the hamper.” “I’ve yet to hear a real negative in all this rambling of yours.” I grin up at him. “You really want this?” “More than anything else.” “That can’t be true. There has to be something else you want.” “There is. But some things take time and even you aren’t ready for that.”

“I have somewhere I want to take you.” Santiago grabs my hand and pulls me up from the couch. “Is it an art store?” “No.” “The grocery store?” “God, no. Why would I want to take you there?” “Because I ate the last couple of Oreos last night after you fell asleep.” “Seriously? You didn’t bother saving one?” I shrug. “Do crumbs count?”

“What are we doing in the middle of nowhere?” Santiago parks the car off to the side of the dirt road we traveled down. “I thought it was a good place for no one to hear your screams.” A cold chill spreads across my skin. “Back to plotting my murder? I thought we moved past that plan once we started fake dating.” “To be fair, you did eat the last Oreos.”

A field of wildflowers stretches on forever. Flowers of every color dance in the wind, swaying together in perfect harmony. There’s not a single soul nearby except for the birds chirping in the distance. It’s absolutely stunning, and all I want to do is run through them. I resist the urge. “How did you find this place?” “I have my ways.” “It’s gorgeous.” “It’s how I see you.” He looks down at me, his eyes reflecting an array of emotions.

It’s a blessing to feel so damn important to someone, to the point that they make sure I know it every single day. Santiago Alatorre loves me in a way that most people spend their whole lives chasing. And I love him equally as much.

“Loving you is like the first day of spring after a harsh winter.”

“Loving you is like the ocean. Infinite. Fierce. Breathtaking.”

“Loving you feels like seeing a rainbow for the first time. It’s so amazing, you can’t help wondering if it was created by magic.”

“And most of all, loving you is realizing I don’t have to make a wish ever again because I already have everything I could ever want.”

I can’t let my best friend move to Europe without me. We’re like a pair of kidneys.” “Better off together than ever apart.”