Nova (The Renegades #2)

by Rebecca Yarros

  “You’re seasick,” he said as I flushed the toilet.

  “Bingo.” I struggled to my feet and then swished with the water, spitting out the vileness that had taken up residence in my mouth. I braced my hands on the edge of the sink and glanced quickly at the mirror before looking away.

  I looked like I’d been run over by the freaking cruise ship that was causing my misery.

  “It’s just because we’re on the open ocean. The waves are a lot bigger,” Landon explained, reaching around me to wet a washcloth.

  “Not helping,” I muttered.

  He wrung out the blue terry cloth and then wiped my face. The cool water against my flushed skin was heaven sent. “How about you go lie down on the couch? I’ll open the sliding glass door and let some fresh air in.”

  “I don’t want to move.”

  “It smells like someone died in here, and then someone ate that something before throwing it up.” He crinkled his nose. “I think I know just what you need.”

  Without giving me a chance to protest, he lifted me in his arms. My head fell to that magical spot on his chest, where I tucked in perfectly under his collarbone. “You shouldn’t be carrying me.”

  “Why not?” We headed down the hallway, Landon pausing to brace himself as we hit a bigger wave.

  “Because I smell.”

  “Yes.”

  We passed the bar and the dining room table.

  “I have puke in my hair.”

  “Yes.” He gently laid me down on the leather sofa, propping a pillow under my head. “I’ll still carry you.”

  My stomach pitched, and I drew my knees to my chest. “Stop being nice. It’s easier to stay away from you when you’re cocky.”

  He laughed, moving loose strands of hair from my face. “I’ll keep that in mind. Okay, you wait here. I’ll be back as soon as possible, okay?”

  I nodded, taking a deep breath. I hated that he was right, that the fresh air felt fantastic. I hated when he was right about anything.

  I loved that he’d just taken care of me even though I told him not to.

  Ugh. It was complicated.

  The glass door opened and shut behind me, and I spent the next few minutes trying not to heave up anything else. I felt empty, my throat raw, my stomach weak from what felt like ten thousand sit-ups. And the damn boat would not stop rocking.

  In through my nose…out through my mouth. I took measured breaths, and questioned each of my life choices that led me to this moment.

  The door slid open about five minutes later. “Sorry it took me so long,” Landon said, coming around the sofa and crouching to my level. “Give me your arm.”

  “What?”

  “Trust me,” he said, turning those eyes on me.

  “Only because I’m near death,” I teased, and thrust out my arm.

  He slipped a black band onto my wrist and tightened the watch-like clasp until a small, hard disk pressed into my wrist. Then he did the same with the other. “They’re Psi bands. They should help take away the nausea.”

  “Really?” I asked, looking at the little bracelets.

  “Absolutely. And if you’d told Penna you were seasick, she would have told me sooner,” he chastised. “She thought you ate something bad. Guess she figured you were too much of a badass to get seasick.”

  “I just didn’t realize,” I said. “We’ve been on board for weeks.”

  “Yeah, well, you didn’t do the Atlantic, so this is your first ocean crossing. Don’t worry.” He stood and walked over to the bar, pulling a glass down from the cabinet. A pop and fizz later, he handed me a glass of soda. “Ginger ale,” he told me.

  I sat up. “I’m not drinking anything. It’ll come right back up.”

  “Well, we’ve got to get some liquid into you, and this is better than nothing. Just give it a few minutes for the Psi bands to kick in.”

  “How did you know I was sick?” I asked.

  “You missed class this morning, and I knew you couldn’t be that desperate to avoid me,” he said with a tiny smile.

  “I’m not avoiding you. You really came to check on me?” Okay, maybe that melted me just a little.

  “Yeah, it’s what boyfriends do, right?” he asked with a tiny, really stupidly sexy smirk.

  “You’re not my boyfriend.”

  He shrugged. “I was always taught to dress for the job I want. I figure this is no different. I’m not opposed to wearing you down by sheer force of will.”

  “As I recall, you always wanted to be Batman,” I teased, the nausea in my belly easing.

  His eyes lit up. “Remember that, do you? Cool toys, code names, worldwide notoriety—I think I got as close as possible.”

  “And so humble.”

  “It’s all worth nothing if I can’t have the only thing I need.”

  “And what’s that?” I asked, my chest tight for reasons that had nothing to do with being sick.

  “You.”

  The way he looked at me when he said it would have knocked me to the ground if I hadn’t been sitting. There was no flirtation in his eyes, no manipulation or charm—just honesty.

  The ginger ale was sweet as it slid down my throat, and I realized the nausea really had subsided. It was there, but manageable. “I think I need a shower.”

  “You do have puke in your hair,” he agreed.

  I rolled my eyes. “Do I leave these things on?”

  “If you’d like to shower without vomiting on your toes. Want some help in there?” He drew his tongue over his lower lip.

  There was the charm.

  “I just spent over twelve hours puking and you’re still trying to get into my pants?” I would have laughed if I didn’t still feel so weak.

  “Hey, I’ll take you however I can get you.”

  I shook my head and stood, still a little wobbly on my feet, and thrust out my hand when he tried to help. “No. I’m good. I’ve got this.”

  Keeping my hand on the wall for balance, I made my way to the bathroom as swells kept the boat rocking. It probably wasn’t the best weather for me to be showering in, but there was zero chance I was going to sleep this off with puke in my hair. A girl had her standards, and puke was definitely crossing the line.

  I washed as quickly as possible, and even though I felt better for being clean and puke-free, I was exhausted by the time I got out of the shower.

  Wrapped in a fluffy blue towel, I tiptoed down the hallway to my room, figuring Landon was still here. Sure, I’d dropped towel to prove a point when I’d first gotten here, but I wasn’t ready for a repeat performance.

  A pair of fuzzy pants and a tank top later, I found Landon leaning against the wall in the hallway, holding a rolled-up paper.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Get in bed and I’ll show you.”

  “Where have I heard that one before?”

  He laughed, and my heart skipped. “Come on. I’ll grab the ginger ale and some saltines and meet you in there.”

  My eyes narrowed.

  He stuck up two fingers. “Scout’s honor. I will do nothing of a sexual nature. Nada. Zilch.”

  “Fine,” I answered, more than aware that he really was wearing my armor down to nonexistent. I climbed into bed and had the covers pulled over me by the time he walked in, balancing the glass of ginger ale, the paper, and a sleeve of saltines.

  My stomach rumbled, and I took everything but the paper as he climbed into bed next to me, staying on top of the covers.

  “I took notes for you this morning, and I figured I’d read to you so you’re caught up for tomorrow,” he said as he unrolled the paper.

  “You’re going to read me my homework?” I repeated, not sure I’d heard correctly.

  “I am.”

  I raised both my eyebrows at him.

  “What? I’m just showing off my boyfriend moves.”

  “Landon, we’re not—”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He waved me off. “I know. Now, don’t you want to hear al
l about the Korowai? They live in badass houses in the trees.”

  I guess if I had to spend a day in bed with Landon, reading to me was the least harmful thing he could be doing. Turning on my side, I let myself watch him, since his eyes were glued to the printed article. His voice was low and soothing, and I couldn’t look away from the movement of his lips, the way his tongue would run across the lower one when he flipped the page.

  When he finished with the Korowai tribes, he moved on to the Dani and the Lani, and I couldn’t remember a time I’d loved listening to an article more. At one point he began stroking my hair with his free hand, and I leaned into his touch, too tired to do much else.

  By the time he’d finished, my nausea was gone, thanks to the magic bands he’d brought me. He stared vacantly for a moment, the paper forgotten in his lap.

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  His hand paused on my head. “Wondering how Gabe is.”

  “Understandable.” At least Little John was with him, and his parents had flown in. It had killed Landon to leave him there, but if Pax had missed the boat, he would have been kicked out of the program. They had a one-and-done policy around here, and he’d used his get-out-of-jail-free card a couple months ago when he’d been left behind with Leah in Istanbul.

  “Is it?” he asked, still staring at the wall. “Because while one part of me is praying that he’s okay, the other part is wondering when I can get back up there. Trying to work out in my mind if I have the time to acclimatize and still get it into the documentary.”

  I tensed as a cold fear ran chills down my spine. But as much as Landon had changed over these last couple of years, I knew that underneath it all, he hadn’t. “You can’t stand thinking you failed.”

  “I did fail, and not just me. I failed Gabe by choosing the chute with the biggest risk. He trusted me, and I got him hospitalized. I failed Nick, too. We needed that stunt for the documentary. He needs it.”

  “Mother Nature took your chance,” I argued. “That fresh snow on top of the ice…it was a recipe for disaster, and you can’t feel guilty about that.”

  “I should have known. I should have chosen the lesser chute—the one Alex took. I never should have pushed the summit.”

  “That’s who you are,” I said. “You would have seen anything less than the summit as failure.”

  “Yeah, well, my ego cost Gabe months of recovery. It almost cost us our lives.”

  “No. Your way of life did that. You both chose it. You weren’t up there dragging him around—he went of his own free will. You’re not to blame.”

  He shook his head slowly, letting his breath out at the same pace. “I don’t know. Maybe if I’d chosen a lesser chute. If we’d gotten there two days earlier—”

  “Maybe if I hadn’t been with you,” I said softly.

  He slid until he was lying across from me, his head propped on his arm to mirror mine. “What do you mean by that?”

  “You haven’t once thought about it?” I asked. “You haven’t once had the curse cross your mind.”

  “There’s no damn curse.”

  I scoffed. “Landon, since you’ve seen me on board, you’ve run into a wall, had torrential rains almost take out the Sri Lanka stunt, nearly washed away in a mudslide, been buried alive in an avalanche after a freak snowstorm came in, and now the ocean looks like we’re in a bad remake of The Poseidon Adventure.”

  “Okay?” he asked, tucking my hair behind my ear like he couldn’t not touch me.

  “Seriously?” I asked, a slight twinge of sadness creeping into my voice.

  “You’re not a curse. I don’t know how many times I need to tell you that. Look at everything that’s gone right since you got here. Pax nailed his triple front—”

  “Because I didn’t go to the exhibition,” I argued. “I knew my reputation.”

  “You were avoiding me.”

  “That, too,” I admitted.

  His thumb caressed my cheekbone, and the look he gave me was so tender, I couldn’t help but slip a little down the Landon-wanting slope. “Since you’ve been here, I have survived a mudslide that I might not have if you hadn’t been in the car. I spent a night with a beautiful woman in my arms in a Himalayan snowstorm, and I cheated death in an avalanche. Maybe you’re more of a lucky charm than you realize.”

  He leaned forward and pressed his lips to my forehead in a sweet kiss. Cocky Landon I could fight. Player Landon I could ignore. Nova I could despise.

  But this was my Landon, and I was helpless.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t kiss your mouth,” he whispered.

  “Okay.”

  “But it’s not because I don’t want to,” he said, pulling back to look in my eyes.

  “Oh?”

  A corner of his mouth tilted up. “First, I want you to realize that this isn’t just sexual for me. I meant what I said last night. I’m not touching any other woman, and that includes you, until you realize that it’s not about the score.”

  The look I gave him must have been skeptical, because he grinned at me.

  “I’m dead serious.” He gestured down his body. “All this is closed until you believe that I’m in this to win it. The long haul. Your heart. All of it.”

  God, I wanted to believe him. My heart was practically banging at my ribs to get out and launch at him. But I knew better, didn’t I? I wasn’t some starry-eyed girl who thought she could change Landon Rhodes. I was the girl he’d left standing in an empty apartment with no savings, no college, and no family.

  But there was this tiny part of me that was growing steadily stronger, begging to give him a chance. To put those claims to the test. But I also knew that was the last part of me that had never gotten over him, and with one misstep, he’d kill off that chance for good.

  “And what’s the other reason you won’t kiss me?”

  How long could he hold out if I really pushed? If I frayed the edges of his nonexistent control? How long would it take to prove that he just wanted to score the one girl he thought he couldn’t have? Wasn’t it safer in the long run to break my heart at the size it was now as opposed to letting it grow bigger for him again?

  He crinkled his nose. “Your breath smells like puke.”

  I couldn’t help it; I burst into laughter.

  Testing him was going to be so much fun.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Landon

  Jakarta

  “Stop scratching at it,” Penna snapped as we stared out over the calm waters of the crane park. The water was glassy within the sectioned-off area of the bay, no waves lapping against the various ramps, air cushions, or docks that held the huge cranes that would soon catapult us across the water.

  “I’m serious,” Penna warned.

  I lowered my hand from its exploration of the waterproof plastic covering my stitches. Sure, I needed the protection, but damn if I didn’t feel like a set of leftovers in cling wrap ready for the microwave.

  “You’re one to talk,” I told her as she shifted next to me. “Or was that not a coat hanger I saw you shoving down your cast this morning?”

  She pointed her finger at me. “You have no clue what it’s like to be in a full freaking cast in this heat and humidity. None.”

  “Touché,” I agreed, tipping my baseball hat in her direction.

  She rolled her eyes, and I grinned. Damn, I was just glad she was out here with us. It had taken every weapon in our arsenal to get her to the stunt site, and even though she insisted on sitting in the shade with a book, I’d take it.

  It felt like the first step to bringing her back.

  “So what’s up with you and Rachel?” she asked, picking her nail polish off and flicking it onto the wooden deck, just to watch it fall between the cracks to the water.

  “That, my friend, is the million-dollar question,” I said. I turned my hat around backward, then leaned over the railing to see Paxton fifteen feet below on the lower deck, making the final arrangements for the stunt.


  I should have been with him, but I needed Leah to get here and sit with Penna so she wouldn’t try to run away.

  “I’m just glad you two aren’t pulling each other’s hair anymore,” Penna said as she leaned against the railing with me. “You’d better not fuck this up.”

  “Doing my best not to. She doesn’t trust me.”

  “Can you blame her? You left that girl high and dry and then went on to become a superstar. Add that to your propensity for fucking anything in a skirt—”

  “I’m done with that,” I cut her off.

  “Just like that?” She tilted her head. “You, who I’m not sure has even gone a day without sex in the last two years, are going to give up your little addiction cold turkey?”

  “Already have,” I told her as I spotted Rachel walking toward us with Leah. She had on board shorts and a tank top, and her hair was pulled partway up, leaving the line of her chin bare.

  “Seriously?”

  “I haven’t breathed in the direction of another girl since I saw Rachel in Dubai. That’s over three weeks.”

  “Wow. That’s almost thirty days sober. I applaud you.” She saw Rachel and Leah coming and whispered, “Does that include your lucky charm over there?”

  I grinned. Rachel really was my lucky charm, even if she was convinced that she was cursed. “Especially her,” I told her in low tones. “I have to convince her that I’m after more than her body.”

  She snorted, threading her long blond hair through a ponytail holder, but before she could say anything, the girls had reached us.

  “Pax says he’s ready for you,” Leah told me from under her giant, floppy sun hat.

  “You going to join us?” I asked.

  She glanced at Penna. “Nope. I think I’m just fine shore bound today. You guys have fun. Rach, did you want to leave your stuff in my bag?”

  Rachel looked over the railing at the setup and then nodded. “Yeah, that might be easiest. You don’t mind?”

  “No problem.” Leah opened her massive beach bag and took out a few of her schoolbooks. “Slip it in.”

  “Awesome,” Rachel said. Then she crossed her arms in front of her, grasped the bottom of her bright green tank top and pulled it up…and off.