Page 64 of Collided (Dirty Air 2)

Shit. He tried to confuse me, and it worked. Liam’s presence makes it difficult for me to produce smart sentences. His hand brushes up against the smooth skin of my legs. My body jolts at his caress, unaccustomed to his recent touchiness.

Where were these reactions two hours ago with John?

I gather myself. “John is a sweet guy. He asked me on another date since he got called in early for some engineering problem.”

Liam gives me a tight smile. “That’s nice of him. I’m sure it gets busier for engineers as we get closer to race day, with car issues and whatnot. Hopefully, he’ll have enough time to balance taking you out again.”

Did Liam have something to do with John’s early return?I find his smirk questionable, and his tone sounds a bit off.

“Does that mean you’ll be around less too? What a shame.”

He bites down on his lip.“I’ll always make time for you. But what if I don’t want you to go on a date with him or anyone else?” He grabs my hand, abandoning his attention to my legs. His touch sends a shock wave up my arm.

I look at our joined hands, unsure where to go with this.

Will I ever be ready for someone like Liam? The idea of us together feels like a collision. Something I can’t prepare for, no matter how much I want to. Instant, hard, and painful with metal crunching and sparks flying. Part of me wonders if we are already halfway there, losing control of our cars before either one of us has a chance to fix things.

“I’d say you’re acting like a possessive brother.” I drop the B-word, hoping it’ll push him away, except he does the unexpected.

He laughs. “You sure try your hardest to deny everything between us. I know you’re attracted to me or else you wouldn’t have kissed me in Canada or come to the sound of my voice.”

He trails a single finger up my leg. My skin heats wherever his finger lingers before he stops at my upper thigh and leaves his hand there.

I stare at his hand, willing it to move. Higher? Lower? Anywhere but right next to the place begging for his attention?

“You can give in, you know. I won’t judge you for it. Hell, I’ll reward you, congratulating you for your efforts at lasting this long.” He abandons my thigh as he grasps my hand in his again. His thumb traces mindless circles across the thin bones in my hand.

Earth to Sophie. Pull it together. “Uh, well, I should get going.” I pull my legs off Liam’s lap, not waiting for him to respond. His throaty laugh runs across my spine as I hightail it out of there.

* * *

I walk into the Italian Grand Prix gala with my dad, the snazzy affair welcoming us with golden lights glistening off the chandeliers hanging above our heads. A live band plays on the stage while servers offer us alcohol.

My eyes go straight to the food table. “There’s a pasta buffet. I repeat, a pasta buffet.”

My dad snorts and leads me toward my paradise. “For such a tiny person, you sure do eat a lot.”

I pile my plate with pasta and bread. “Don’t give me a complex.”

He follows me to an empty table and sits with me, giving me a solid twenty minutes of his time between chatting with sponsors and coworkers.

He looks stunned at how I shovel pasta into my mouth. “I’m weirdly impressed. If there was any question of you being my daughter, this definitely rules it out.”

I glare at him and drag my fork across my throat. It fails to have the desired effect, instead making my dad laugh loud and robustly.

He offers me a bite of his veggies after he regains his composure.

“I’d rather die than eat a piece of lettuce.” I stare at his salad like it offends me.

“You know green food is meant to be good for you.” He stabs his food while longingly staring at my pasta. He chose a lean piece of chicken, passing over the pasta bar without looking back. Like he really needs to keep his figure in check. The man works out more than half the guys in my university, probably out lifting them.

“That’s good because my cereal has enough green food coloring to carry me through the day.”

“One day you’ll end up having kids of your own. Then I’ll be laughing when you shove broccoli into your mouth while trying to convince them to eat their own, with your eyes watering from trying not to gag. I didn’t eat veggies until you came around. Honestly, I thought me eating them would win you over but here I am twenty-two years later.”

“Joke’s on you.” I stick my tongue out at him.

My dad chuckles, his young appearance shining through. He has a youthfulness to him that never went away with age. When he works in the Bandini pit, he shoves jokes aside because he has to be the big guy in charge, making sure Santiago and Noah don’t screw up.