Wrecked (Dirty Air Special Edition) by Lauren Asher EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Authors: Lauren Asher
- Language: English
- Genre: New Adult & College Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
JAX
Present Day
“Jax, your breakfast is getting cold! What do you do all morning
in your room? We threw out all your Playboy magazines years
ago!” My mum’s voice buzzes through the intercom in my old
room.
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This is what happens when I visit my family during the winter break.
Nothing says vacation quite like early morning wake-up calls and
accusations about jerking off before my morning tea.
I groan as I get out of bed and press the button on the speaker. “I’m
disappointed in you. The last thing I want to hear when I’m on the brink of
orgasm is my mum’s voice.”
Her laugh makes the tiny speaker in my room crackle. “You’re
disgusting. God forgive me for raising someone with such a naughty mouth.
Get down here—your dad left for a meeting and I hate eating by myself.”
We’re that type of family, with intercoms and a full-time staff because
Dad was a hotshot boxer back in the day who built a lavish life with nothing
but his fists. He doesn’t fight anymore, but his investments speak for
themselves.
We fall into the same upper-crust financial bracket as the wankers who
used to laugh at Dad because he came from poverty. Welcome to the dark
side; we have trust funds and more investments than the goddamn stock
market.
“I’ll be there in a few.” I step away from the wall and enter my
bathroom, wanting to wash away my morning grogginess.
I hadn’t planned on visiting before the start of the F1 season, but Mum
begged me. It’s hard to say no to her, especially when she says I won’t be
home for Easter. Plus, it’s not like I had many fun activities planned, seeing
as Liam’s busy with Sophie, and Noah spends all his spare time with Maya.
Our original trio is down to me.
God help us all.
I grab my medicine bottle from my toiletries bag. A pretty white pill
stands out against my bronzed skin, tempting me to take the edge off. With
a short half-life, an American doctor’s clearance, and F1’s mental-health
clause, I’m able to take a Xanax whenever the mood strikes. And as of
lately, it seems to be a fuck ton.
Me—a Formula 1 driver and arsehole extraordinaire—suffers from
clinical anxiety. If people got wind of it, they might laugh their arse off
before I kick theirs, showing them exactly what happens when I feel a
different type of edgy. From the outside, I don’t look anxious, but on the
inside, I’m a motherfucking mess.
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