Wrecked (Dirty Air Series Book 3)

Things between Elena and I have evolved over the months. From avoiding her to liking her, everything is shifting after our summer break together in London. Ever since we left my parents’ house, we’ve fallen into a comfortable pattern together. A pattern so easygoing, I try to make her happy all the time.

After all the events she planned for me, I couldn’t help wanting to return the favor. Under the guise of fixing my reputation, I put together an event to raise money for a charity of my choice. Except, unlike my other PR events, Elena has no clue about this one.

Yup. I planned it all on my own after a week of research, Maya’s help, and begging my friends to participate.

“You owe me big time for this,” Noah grumbles under his breath.

I look around the McCoy conference room I reserved for today’s activity. Bright lights shine on Noah, Liam, and me as we sit in three chairs side by side. Maya spread out all kinds of makeup and supplies on a table in front of us. Her camera sits on a tripod in the center of the room, waiting on standby to film us.

“I bet Sophie will win.” Liam shoots us a cocky grin.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that. I’ve seen Maya do this with Santi and he looked like the belle of the ball after she was done with him.” Noah grins.

“Okay, Sophie’s bringing her over now.” Maya jumps from her chair.

Footsteps echo through the hall. The door creaks as Sophie and Elena enter the room.

Elena checks us all out before looking over at me in confusion. “What’s going on?”

“Surprise!” Sophie claps. “We’re doing a makeup challenge!”

“Makeup challenge?” Elena’s mouth drops open and her eyes snap toward me. “You remembered?”

Oh, hell did I remember. After making fun of her on the plane months ago, here I am doing exactly what I accused my friends of participating in one day. A makeup challenge for charity.

That’s me—romancer extraordinaire. Noah’s sappiness and my dad’s life lessons have rubbed off on me in more ways than one.

“Your boyfriend here wants to fundraise in a different kind of way using Maya’s vlog.” Liam shoots me a telling look.

Yeah, I get it. After all the shit I’ve given them about their girlfriends, I’ve fallen into the same trap. Pot, meet kettle.

“No way.” Elena can’t help smiling at me.

Okay, maybe this is worth all the shit my mates will give me based on her smile.

“Yes! And he chose such a wonderful charity. He wants to raise money for Alzheimer’s Disease using the ad money on my video.” Maya checks on her camera.

Elena’s eyes soften. She walks up to me and stands between my legs. “You planned this for me?”

I tug her onto my lap. “Well, I did think my reputation could use a little help.”

She raises a brow. “And you thought a makeup challenge was the right idea?”

“Someone once told me committed wankers did this kind of thing, so I thought I’d give it a try and see what the hype is all about.” Okay, that someone was me, but screw it.

“Your mom was right.” She grins.

“What do you mean?”

“She told me you were all marshmallow fluff, and I have to agree with her.”

“Marshmallow fluff? Now I’m very curious to see how Jax acts with you when no one else is around,” Liam calls out from the other side of Noah.

I flip him off. “Call me that again and I’ll ram my boot so far up your arse, you won’t walk straight for a week.”Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

“Fuck marshmallow fluff. Jax is more of a Vegemite kind of guy,” Noah chimes in.

“Okay, moving onto the more important part of our programming. Makeup time!” Sophie checks out the supplies on the table. She plucks a clamping tool that looks like a small torture device and waves it at Liam. “Your lashes are going to look so pretty, I’ll be jealous.”

“Jax, you owe me a weekend stay in Ibiza after this.” Liam groans.

“Deal.”

Elena kisses my cheek. “Thank you for this. It means a lot to me that you chose a charity to honor Abuela.”

Everything inside of me warms at her approval. I’m glad I decided to do something to support people like her grandma while giving Elena her very own version of something she enjoys watching every day on her phone.

“Ladies, get to your battle stations,” Maya calls out.

Elena hops off my lap. “That’s my cue.”

“Make me look the best, love. Please show these boys who’s the sexiest of them all.”

Something within me is changing, and it’s not only because of a new medication. It’s more than that. It’s because of time with Elena, sessions with Tom, and a growing feeling of hope within me.

Hope my life will turn out differently.

Hope that I might not have Huntington’s Disease.

Hope that I can end up happy with Elena, living without worry and sadness.

“Are you ready for the Prix this week?” Tom welcomes me into his office before taking a seat in the chair opposite of me.

“As ready as I can be.” I get comfortable on the couch. “So, I’ve been thinking.”

“Thinking is good.”

I let out a loud laugh. “Well, actually I’ve been thinking about a few things. The first is that I didn’t realize I like being in a relationship.”

“And how’s that going for you?”

I tap my fingers against the hole in my ripped jeans. “Good. Surprisingly good.” So fucking good I hope I don’t cock it up.

“You sound surprised by that.”

“I am. I’ve never made the time for anything serious like this before.”

“How long have you been dating Elena? Has it been two months already?”

“Close. And trust me, I’m equally shocked.”

Tom laces his fingers together. “What about being in a relationship shocks you?”

“Do you need more besides the fact that I’m me, and Elena’s Elena?”

He tilts his head. “Tell me what that means to you.”

Oh, Tom. As we’ve grown more comfortable around one another, he becomes bolder with his questions. I’m not exactly opposed to it, but it does challenge me to be more open with him.

“Elena has her life pretty put together besides a few hiccups. Even her messed-up parts are tame compared to mine. She wants to achieve the highest standards, and has no problem facing her issues. And fuck me, she trusts me to help her through her fears.”

“Does that scare you? Someone relying on you to be their rock?”

“It’s fucking terrifying.”

Tom chuckles. “I can attest to that.”

“You’re married. Talk about reaching the highest level of reliance.” I point at his ring.

“Of course. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I fight to roll my eyes. “Of course, you would say that. You’re married and a therapist, so you’re bound to preach about good vibes and Motivation Monday quotes.”

Tom lets out a roar of laughter. “Tell me something. How does it feel to know Elena trusts you enough to count on you when she is scared?”

“Good. Really fucking good. Like I’ll do whatever I can to banish all the shit holding her back, one way or another.”

“Then there you have it. I feel similarly about having someone rely on me, too.”

Shit. Talking to Tom gives me a new perspective.

“I have another problem.”

“Let’s hear it.”

I swallow back my nerves. “I want to do the predictive test. I need to know if I have Huntington’s or not so I can move on. I’m going to ask my mum to set up the genetic counseling and the actual test.”

Tom’s eyebrows raise—his only tell of surprise. He leans in closer. “That’s very brave of you. What changed?”

Everything. Every fucking thing and there’s nothing I can do about it. Not when Elena has infiltrated my carefully erected walls, blowing through them like they were made of paper.

“I’ve decided maybe I’ve been going about this situation the wrong way. With the new medication, some of the tremors have been better, and I’d hate to think I’ll keep worrying over nothing.”

“I’m glad to hear the medication change has been helping you. I can tell you’ve made some big improvements in your life so far, and I’m really proud of you.”

I nod my head. “I don’t want the worries to take over my life anymore. It’s exhausting.”

“You know I will always play devil’s advocate. While I’m impressed by the progress you’ve made, I worry what would happen if you don’t receive the news you want to hear. Especially if you find out bad news before the season is over. What then?”

My eyes slide from Tom’s eyes to my hands. “Then I do what I do best.”

“And what’s that?”

“Self-destruct.”