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  Wreck My World

  Copyright © 2019 Victoria Ashley

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means such as electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the author of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Photographer—Wander Aguiar

  Cover model—Forest Harrison

  Cover Artist—Jay Aheer

  Editor—Charisse Spiers

  Formatter—Champagne Book Design

  Contents

  Dedication

  Playlist

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Epilogue

  Books by Victoria Ashley

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  To Lindsey King for believing in Easton and Dakota’s story from the very beginning. Thank you.

  “Someone You Loved” by Lewis Capaldi

  “I Found” by Amber Run

  “Oceans” by Seafret

  “Waves” by Dean Lewis

  “No Answers” by Amber Run

  “Mercy” by Brett Young

  “Scars” by James Bay

  “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol

  “Sex on Fire” by Kings of Leon

  “No One’s Going to Love You” by Band Of Horses

  “Hold Back the River” by James Bay

  “The Other Side” by Ruelle

  “Love Someone” by Lukas Graham

  “Believe” by Mumford & Sons

  “Enter Sandman” by Metallica

  “Fade” by Lewis Capaldi

  Dakota

  The heat in the room is suffocating me, making it nearly impossible to fully concentrate on the task in front of me.

  With every single move, I feel the sweat pouring down my body, making me more uncomfortable and irritable with each passing second. I’m close to losing it. This jumpsuit has to go. I’ve tried, but I just can’t do it. I won’t anymore.

  Stepping away from the Yamaha I’ve been working on, I fight for air and begin stripping the hot fabric from my body as if it’s on fire.

  I feel two sets of eyes burn into me as soon as the ugly brown suit hits the floor. I kick it out of the way with a relieved breath.

  I’ve been working here at Brooks’ Garage for three years now. It’s my family’s business, and as one could guess, I’m the only female mechanic in a shop full of dirty, sweaty men.

  Eyes wander my way eighty percent of the time, which is exactly why my father is continuously asking me to keep that heat-stroke-waiting-to-happen uniform on to keep them focused on their duties. He claims that me not wearing it slows them down and things don’t get done to the best of their abilities.

  Seeing Talon and Mitch both staring extra hard at me now that I’m down to my jeans and old tank top, I can’t argue that.

  “Stop staring at my ass.” I call them both out without even bothering to look. “It’s because of you perverts I’m stuck wearing that hideous thing to begin with.”

  “I agree.” Reese’s voice comes from behind me, making me jump, scaring me a little. “It’s one hundred percent our faults and not yours at all for wearing something that fits you so… good.” He steps to my side to watch me work, looking a bit flustered. “I definitely agree with your father’s order to keep the jumpsuit on, Dakota. Maybe you should listen.”

  I look up at Reese’s red face as he waits to see what crazy crap will come out of my mouth today.

  Those dimples need to stop being so cute. They almost make me want to break my rules of no dating my father’s mechanics. Normally, a guy like Reese—short, blond hair, perfectly shaven face, well dressed—would be too clean cut and pretty for my taste, but covered in grease and looking rough and dirty, he’s pretty cute; even I have to admit.

  “I’m mad at you too then. I hate that thing so you guys will just have to learn to stop staring.” I stop what I’m doing and look up at him watching me. “You just came from the office. The old man still here? It’s late.”

  “Yeah. Asked me to tell you to stop by before you leave.” His blue eyes look me over with admiration, but as usual, he doesn’t say anything to give away what he’s thinking. “I think you’re in trouble, again. That’s what… the third time this week?”

  “Possibly.” I toss the torque wrench into the toolbox and stand up, cleaning my hands off on my ripped-up jeans. “How much trouble?” I question with a small smile.

  “Can’t tell this time.” His focus lowers to my breasts when I turn back around to face him. He’s quick to pull his gaze away, afraid of me catching him. “Might want to put your jumpsuit back on, though, Dakota. Like you said… we can’t control our staring. I’m not trying to get into trouble like the others.”

  Stepping up to him, I grab the back of his head and pull it down so I can whisper in his ear. He always gets nervous when we’re this close, afraid of pissing my father off. It’s kind of cute and fun. “That’s a shame. I like them bad, Reese. You should try to break the rules once in a while. You might like it.”

  “Dakota!” My father’s tired voice booms over the speaker, causing Reese to jerk away from me and put some space between us. “I need you in my office.”

  My stomach drops from the tone in his voice. He’s in one of his moods.

  “You should really stop being such a rebel, Dakota.” Talon laughs from his spot in front of his Yamaha R1 he’s been working on all day, before bringing his attention over to Reese. “And you really need to grow a fucking pair. You jumped away from her as if your dick was on fire the second you heard Kevin’s voice.”

  “Fuck off,” Reese mumbles, while walking away. “It’s been a long day. I don’t want to listen to your crap.”

  Leaving the boys to work out their bickering, I exit the room and make a right down the hallway, toward my father’s office.

  The second I step inside, he looks up from a stack of invoices and gives me a stern look. “Dammit, Dakota. Is that why my guys are working slow? Where’s the new jumpsuit I ordered you? I’m not paying them to stand around and stare at my daughter all day.”

  “I was about to die from a heatstroke, so I took it off. Besides, I’m done for the day. It’s ten past seven.” I shut the door and sit down in the chair across from him, reaching
under the desk for my leather boots. “Is that why you called me in here? Or does it have to do with that fancy stack of invoices you’re throwing around?” I ask while changing into them.

  He tosses one in front of me and releases a frustrated breath. I just hope he makes this short, because I’m already running late to watch the race. “You gave a twenty percent discount on a two-grand job without asking me first. This is a business. We don’t just hand out discounts to our friends. I thought we’ve been over this. It has to stop, Dakota.”

  “It wasn’t a friend,” I point out, prepared to defend my actions. “It was Ms. Rogers. She came in to fix up her late husband’s bike to give to her son Zeke. It needed a lot more work than I originally told her, and she barely had the money to pay it.”

  My chest tightens just thinking about Ms. Rogers’ face when she thought she wouldn’t be able to afford the bill. That bike meant a lot to her, and I could feel it with every word that left her mouth that day. She was close to breaking down. “I wasn’t about to let her spend money she couldn’t afford to spare, and there was no way I was keeping the bike as collateral until she paid. I’ll pay the twenty percent out of my own pocket. I made the decision, so it’s on me.”

  My father’s blue eyes soften, and I can tell right away he’s thinking about Quinn and how he did everything in his power to honor her after she died. It’s been three years since we lost my sister, but not a day goes by we don’t all miss her. Losing someone you love is never easy. There’s an ache in my chest—this void—that will never go away.

  “No. I’m not going to make you pay for it out of pocket.” He tosses the receipts into a drawer and then runs his hands through his blond hair. I can tell he’s torn on how to handle me now. “Next time just tell me, please. That’s all I ask.” He looks up at me, his jaw tight. “I hate being so hard on you, but you haven’t followed the rules since you were a little girl in pigtails. I need to know you’re not just throwing money away. The business depends on it.”

  “I’m not.” I stand up and reach for my leather jacket, ready to get out of this stuffy office and unwind. “Sorry I didn’t tell you. I did what I thought was right at the time. Then I got busy and forgot.”

  “You may put up the biggest wall out of all my children, but I know your heart, Dakota. It’s in the right place.” He nods his head and stands up, reaching for the keys to his Chopper. “I need to hurry home. Your mother has dinner waiting and you know she’ll have my ass if it gets cold. You sure you don’t want to join us? Your brother can’t make it, so it’ll just be your mother and me. We could use the company.”

  I shake my head and reach for my phone as it goes off in my back pocket. It’s Hope, as expected, so I send her a quick text to let her know I’m on the way. “Can’t. Busy. Roman will be there too and I’m already running late.”

  He tiredly ushers me out of the office and locks it up behind us. “Right. Oh, and I forgot to tell you, I have a new mechanic starting on Monday.” He gives me a pleading look and I know what’s coming next. “Promise me you won’t give him a hard time. I have enough shit to deal with.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I respond, while walking in the opposite direction. “Maybe.”

  “Dakota,” he scolds.

  “Maybe is a good thing from me. You should know this by now.” I smile and turn away, slipping my favorite leather jacket on. “Tell Mom I love her, and I’ll come to dinner one night next week. Cross my heart.”

  Dad mumbles something from behind me, but I keep on walking until I’m out the back door, heading toward my motorcycle.

  Less than fifteen minutes later, I pull up at Myers’ Speedway and park my bike in the first available spot. The parking lot is already full of cars and bikes as expected. I’m the last person to show up, which sucks for me and my wallet.

  While taking my helmet off, I spot Roman leaning against his black GMC Yukon, looking chill and relaxed, as if he’s not in a hurry to get to the bleachers when I know damn well he is. He always is.

  He nods his head at me in his cool Roman fashion and flicks his cigarette on the ground, before reaching on his hood for a stack of pizza boxes.

  “A little late, baby sis. Looks like you’re the pizza bitch next time.”

  I grin and grab the top four boxes from the stack. Apparently, he was late last time, which made him the pizza bitch tonight. “Had a lot of work to do at the garage today. But I’m here and ready to see a race. Please tell me we have some decent riders this time. Is Ben racing?”

  “Yup.” My brother is the one grinning now, flashing me his handsome smile as he passes me and begins walking backward. “Looks like Ben will have some competition this time. Sort of a secret weapon. There will be nothing boring about this fucking night. Trust me.”

  My heart races with adrenaline as we hurry through the gates and drop the pizza off in section A, before rushing over to section B where everyone is seated, talking about the racers.

  “Secret weapon, huh?” I brush past my brother and take a seat in row two. “Who is it? You can’t just say that and not give me a name.”

  “You’ll see. All you need to know is he’s good and he’s going to win tonight.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  The five riders are getting some practice rounds in, so I focus my attention on Ben Logan for the next twenty minutes. My brother may be bragging about this secret weapon that’s racing tonight, but it’s been years since I’ve seen anyone as good as Ben Logan.

  Hope pops up from behind us and squeezes in between my bother at I. “Excuse me. Make room for me.”

  Roman lifts a brow and pats his lap. “You could’ve had the best seat in the house. Maybe next time.” He stands up and starts stepping through people to get up to the fifth row.

  Hope’s eyes follow him all the way up, until he takes a seat with his group of friends and winks down at her.

  I’ve been friends with Hope since we were ten. Even though Roman won’t admit it, I know he has a thing for her. His occasional flirting gives him away. But he believes that dating each other’s friends complicates things.

  Not sure I disagree. Therefore, I stay away from his friends. Not that any of them interest me.

  Not anymore, anyway.

  I can’t say the same about my friends wanting to stay away from my brother. Every girl wants Roman Brooks. I’ve yet to meet a girl who doesn’t.

  “Would it be wrong for me to tell you how your brother looks completely hot in those worn-out jeans?” Hope bumps my arm and laughs when I roll my eyes in disapproval. “Sorry, but it’s true. He has the perfect ass, and he’s just so, I don’t know…” She shrugs. “Cool. Without even trying.”

  Hope’s family owns the racetrack, so we’ve gotten away with holding races after hours here for amateur drivers looking to have a little fun in between the professional races. They used to get on us about them and even break them up, but they eventually gave up and learned to trust us.

  It’s an excuse for us to get together and watch each other get dirty and roughed up. No professionals. Just young, wild, adrenaline junkies looking for a good time.

  I find racing to be so damn hot.

  Sexy, mysterious men speeding past me on powerful bikes, risking their safety for the rush. Regardless of what’s under the helmet, I always imagine they’re sexy when they’re racing.

  Truthfully, only a small group of them live up to my imagination once the helmets come off.

  Still… it’s exciting. There’s no denying that.

  “Who are you going for?” Roman asks from behind me now. I swear, he’s all over the place at these races. He can’t sit still for longer than two minutes. It’s as if he has to talk to every single person, and truthfully, every single person wants him to. “I already know but want to check anyway. Just in case you want to change your mind and go for my guy.”

  “Who do you think? I’m all up for mystery men, but I have my doubts when it comes to racing against Ben. You
and I both know he’s the best.” I stand up and watch the five racers, trying to figure out who this mystery guy is. “Give me a hint. There are two new bikes this month. Which one is your guy?”

  “The one on the black Ducati. He’s going to smoke Ben. Your awesome as hell brother is never wrong. You should remember that.”

  “I guess we’ll see. He hasn’t lost in over twenty races and I’m betting he won’t tonight. Your guy has nothing on him. Just admit it.”

  To be honest, I hadn’t even been paying attention to the guy on the Ducati until now. I watch him carefully as he makes a turn, his knees and elbows almost scraping against the track. He’s smooth in that sexy he knows what he’s doing type of way.

  You can see the confidence in the way he rides, and it almost has me reconsidering my pick for the night. Almost.

  “Well I’m with you, Dakota. I say Ben has it again.” Hope claps and screams at the top of her lungs. “You got this, Logan!”

  People begin cheering and screaming in excitement as the practice rounds end and the riders start lining up, ready for the real thrill.

  Since we don’t get any fancy lights to tell us when to go, we have to count on the announcer to kick it off. Which is Stiles Hall with a megaphone and flashlight. He loves that thing way too much and refuses to hand it off to anyone else.

  “Are we ready?” he screams. “Hell yeah, we’re ready! Don’t know why my ass even bothers asking. We’ve been waiting two weeks for this night. Fourteen damn days of boring shit and jerking off alone to video games, waiting for a thrill. Well, the wait is over! We’re here tonight…”

  My patience begins to wear off as Stiles goes on and on, making everyone in the crowd boo and yell for him to stop running his big mouth.

  Make this crowd wait for too long and they’ll start to get hostile. I’ve seen it happen before, but apparently, Stiles hasn’t learned his lesson.

  “I’ll be back.” Jumping to my feet, I rush over to Stiles and tackle the megaphone out of his hand before anyone else can.

  “Oh, come on!” He throws his tattoo-covered hands up and gives me a crooked smile. “I was just getting started, babe.”