Collided (Dirty Air Series Book 2)

Whoever came up with the statement B.F.E. clearly hasn’t been to China. It’s far, like probably the farthest I’ll ever travel in my lifetime. Hence the reason my carry-on backpack looks about one second away from exploding because I take my snacks seriously.

Earlier, I didn’t blink when the security man ruffled through my stash, pulling out my bag of cereal like it insulted him. Yes, I still eat Fruity Pebbles. Sue me. I’m a twenty-one-year-old with a dietary range of a child. But my list includes try new food, right next to do karaoke while drinking and go skydiving. Baby steps, right?

The airport bursts with activity. My hand clutches the handles of my luggage while I evade the countless bodies funneling through the baggage terminal. I smile at the older Chinese man who holds up a sign that reads Sophie “Biggest Pain in My Ass” Mitchell.

Dad, always a charmer. The driver grabs my bags and gives me a respectful nod, not letting me lift a finger. I get into the backseat of the waiting town car. My nose gets a whiff of fresh citrus and leather while I listen to the hum of Shanghai pass us by, the rumbling of the car calming my post-travel nerves.

I drop off my luggage at the hotel and take a quick shower before I visit the motorhome suite area. Team members hang out at the motorhomes before, during, and after the races. They’re known as the ultimate relaxation spot where each team has their space to discuss logistics, eat, and take breaks.

I enter the Bandini motorhome and smile at the familiar colors of scarlet red and yellow. It fills me with warmth and fond memories, thinking back to my childhood where I ran through these halls with my dad chasing after me.

I patrol the food bar, hoping to find something to hold me over until dinnertime when I run into someone. We both let out an oomph as we catch our footing.

I stare into a pair of honey-brown eyes framed by thick lashes. My eyes roam over a woman who looks like a Spanish model, taking in long brown hair, brown eyes, and olive skin.

My cheeks heat. “Oh, sorry about that. I’m such a clumsy person.” No doorjamb, chair, or bedpost leaves my big toe unstubbed.

“It’s no problem. I run into things all the time too. I haven’t seen you around here before.” She shoots me a genuine smile.

“I’m Sophie. You probably haven’t because I just got here.”

“Maya. I haven’t seen anyone my age except my brother. Glad I ran into you—literally.”

I let out a laugh. “It’s my first time joining the race. I wrapped up my classes early for the year to spend time with my dad while he tours. Can’t say no to a free vacation.”

“I graduated in December! And who’s your dad? I guess he’s with Bandini then?” She waves around the busy lobby.

I tug on my gold star necklace. “My dad is the team principal. He’s the one who runs the show around here.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh, wow. And you’re going to be here for the rest of the season?”

“I’m going to try to convince my dad to let me take my fall classes online so I can stick around for the whole Prix schedule. It’s my first time around since I was younger, so I have to take advantage.” Not that she needs to know, but I already have my speech prepared and everything.

“Nice, we can hang out since I’m going to be here for the whole season. It’ll be awesome to have someone my age keeping me young.”

I steer us toward an empty table, asking Maya to spill the latest gossip happening around the F1 paddock. Maya and I eat lunch, chatting about how she plans on vlogging during her travels with the team. She tells me how Santiago Alatorre is her brother. Lucky me, I didn’t know Bandini’s newest driver came with a sister as a bonus.

Maya and I spend the day together before the big gala meant to honor all the F1 racers—a soirée rivaling Jay Gatsby’s. Maya gives me the rundown on everything Bandini while we hang out in her hotel room and get ready for the event.

After a few hours together, I declare us friends because I get a good feeling with these types of things. F1 rarely has young females hanging around, so I’ll take what I can get.

“What’s your living situation like during your time here?” She looks at me while she blows on her wet nails.

“My dad has his own room because of his crazy schedule. I’d rather not be woken up at the crack of dawn. He tried to make sure our rooms are on the same floor since he likes to keep an eye on me, but conveniently there were none available.”

She lets out a breathy laugh. “He’s protective of you?”

I snort. “That’s an understatement. My dad sent me to an all-girls school growing up to prevent me from getting close to any guys. College was the first time I had a co-ed classroom.”

She offers me a wobbly smile. “That’s kind of sweet of him.”

“He never let me date in high school which meant I didn’t have my first kiss until eighteen years old. It was awful, and I couldn’t even use braces as an excuse for it being so bad.”

Maya curls over laughing. “Tell me more. Please.”

“It was sloppy, wet, with his teeth chewing on my lip while his tongue waged an unwanted World War against mine. So much went wrong. He even copped a feel despite it being our first date.” I try not to laugh at the memory.

Maya giggles enough for the two of us. “Stop. He felt you up? That’s awful when everyone knows that’s second-date material.”

“Nope. I was the unlucky victim of too much tongue and not enough common sense.”

Maya wipes away a tear that escaped her eye. “I can’t believe this happened to you.”

“You’re telling me. I think he may have licked a drop of blood that fell from my lip after he bit into me. How very Dracula of him.”

She looks at me with wide eyes. “What did you do then?”

“I kneed him in the balls and walked away, only looking back to catch him curled up in a fetal position. My dad didn’t raise a fool. He made me take self-defense classes as part of the deal for living on campus instead of at home. Thanks to him, I can kick a dummy’s ass into tomorrow. Just ask my sensei.”

She seals her nail polish bottle. “Please tell me you at least lost your virginity in a normal way.”

I throw myself on the sectional, covering my eyes with my arm. “Ugh, I wish. If only life was that easy or fair. Truly I’ve had one disappointing, anti-climactic romantic encounter after another. Losing my V-card was nothing extraordinary. Everything went downhill once the guy asked me which hole he was supposed to stick his dick inside. He couldn’t find my vagina on his own, let alone my G-spot.”

Maya cackles, the sound of her laugh bouncing off the walls, making me join her despite my less-than-ideal stories. Glad my tragedies bring someone happiness. It’s a sort of Shakespearean masterpiece if I do say so myself.

Her eyes glimmer under the hotel lights. “You have a way with words. Keep going, do not leave me hanging like this.”

I sit, tucking my legs under me. “If you insist. Well, I liked the guy I was interested in losing it to. Paul, from my Intro to Statistics class, which should have been a warning bell because his name alone sounds basic and ordinary. Anyway, I knew I wasn’t holding out for Prince Charming. I needed someone who could get the job over with and who I felt a semblance of a connection. After a couple of dates, we decided to give it a go in the bedroom. But he didn’t tell me he also was a virgin. So, on top of everything, the whole experience was awkward with him coming first, unable to last more than two minutes. There was no happy ending for me. I think my brain represses most of that night to save me from embarrassment and bad memories. A kind of self-induced blackout minus the alcohol.”

“Oh, no. Are you serious?” She covers her heart with her hand. “You didn’t even have your first orgasm after you gave up your virginity?”

“Dead serious. Paul was a five-minute man, foreplay included. After eighteen years of hype, I had a no go for the O. What a letdown.”

“Any better experiences?” She looks hopeful, but unfortunately, I have nothing good to report. This is the exact reason I created my list in the first place.

I shake my head. “Some situations here and there. But honestly, I’ve been with a total of three guys, none of whom knew what they were doing. I blame my small university with a limited pool of eligible bachelors who can balance a checkbook quicker than they can make me come.”

“You’d definitely know if you have, so I’m going to go with no, which makes my heart ache for you. This must be rectified.” She claps her hands excitedly.

I grin at her, not ready to tell her my secret. She doesn’t need to worry because I’ve got big plans. Just me, my list, and months of adventure.