Page 115 of Collided (Dirty Air 2)

Liam

I wish I could confess my feelings to Sophie. But I’m a coward, mulling over our relationship and my future instead of chasing after it. Despite my brother’s help and my parents’ verbal ass-whooping, I still struggle to come to grips with my wants versus needs.

I’m afraid. I didn’t think my family calling me out on my secrets would’ve fucked with my head this much. But here I am, worried about conceding to Sophie’s love.

I’m not scared of loving her. That would be simple and stupid as fuck. I can’t help fearing the very worst, like everything that comes after the big I love you back. Thoughts of things going wrong between us make my stomach roll.

Until I can come to grips with my emotions, I need to stay away from Sophie, for her sake and mine. Everyone is right. She deserves the world, and until I can guarantee that I can give it to her, I don’t deserve to hang in her orbit.

I follow Jax out of the gala, watching him help out a sick Sophie. She passes out in the grass once her legs give out. Pain grips my heart in a chokehold, knowing she’s hurting because of me.

“I hate seeing her this way.” I grab her from the ground, her body curling into mine like she knows who carries her.

“Because she smells like a podium after a Prix?” Jax winces at his messed-up shoes.

“No, you idiot. Because I’m the reason she drank to the point of blacking out.”

A random bulb flashes, my eyes squinting at the unexpected invasion. A few more flashes go off as a few reporters ask questions about Sophie and me. The bright lights affect my vision, my anger surging at their disregard for privacy.

“What the fuck,” Jax growls.

“Shit. This isn’t good. Grab her purse and call the car. Now.” I turn my back toward the paparazzi, shielding Sophie while power walking toward the hotel’s valet area.

Tomorrow, I’ll deal with the fallout of those pictures. I need to get her back to her room before we run into any other vultures looking for a trashy story. She grumbles into my chest, her fist clutching onto the fabric of my tux.

My head throbs with conflicting emotions. I’m happy to be near Sophie again, while distraught and angry at her for getting shit-faced, and downright pissed at myself for hurting us. I want my friend back, but most importantly, I want her back. All of her.

Jax helps me grab a car and walks with me up to Sophie’s room. He hangs around the suite while I help Sophie in her bedroom, wanting to ease her discomfort as much as I can. She wakes up enough to let me brush her teeth, remove her makeup, and get a set of pajamas on.

I place her on her favorite side of the bed and set up a trash can nearby just in case. She looks small with her body curled up. It pains me to watch her while avoiding how much I want to cuddle next to her, banishing away her hurt while easing my desire to be close to her.

Resisting the urge, I head on out to the living room.

“You’re in love with her.” Jax brushes a finger across his chin.

“Unfortunately.”

His eyebrows dart up. “Do you really mean that?”

“No. I’m an idiot who fucks up everything good in my life.”

He eyes me skeptically. “Why don’t you tell her how you feel?”

“Because I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“You need to sort your shit out. It’s not fair to her or yourself. Or to me, the guy waiting to know if you’ll be my teammate or not. I’ll stay here for a couple of hours and make sure she doesn’t choke on her vomit, but you need to go because it’ll hurt you both if you stay.”

I barely recognize this mature version of Jax, offering me advice and a wakeup call at the same time.

I step outside of her room, the hotel door closing her off to me once again.