The differences in the programs were what made this one so much more expensive—hell, it catered to rich kids—but the work-study made it possible for people like me. The expense afforded the luxury for kids like Paxton.
“Ready for Lit?” Paxton asked as we exited the auditorium.
“No cameras?” I asked, looking both directions down the hall.
“I think the crew is still hungover. Besides, they’re not that interested in the academic side of this. Hey,” he said to Brooke as she started to pass us. “Little John said you had the Bermuda papers.”
“I did,” she answered. “Don’t worry, I popped them into your safe after I faxed them over to the permit office.”
“Sweet. Thank you,” he said before she went ahead to her class.
“It must take a lot of coordination to do…whatever it is you do.”
“It does. I’m lucky I’ve got some great friends to do it with.”
As we walked down the narrow halls, I was acutely aware of the eyes on us, but I did my best to ignore them. If this was the cost for taking the trip, then so be it.
“So, I met Zoe this morning,” I said, sneaking a sideways look at Paxton. “She’s…um…”
“She’s something else,” he said, shaking his head. “Was she a bitch?”
“She was…unfriendly.”
He flinched. “I’d apologize for her, but she wouldn’t be sorry. When they opened up the reservations for the team first, I figured she’d skip out. College was never her thing, but then she signed up, and I couldn’t tell her no. She’s a Renegade.”
He held the door for me into our classroom, and I buried my instinct to smile. This wasn’t a date, for God’s sake. He was just being a gentleman. “How many of you are there on the ship?”
“Three of the Originals who started the channel, and we do the majority of the stunts and all the larger ones, but the entire team is about fifteen of us, plus camera crew. Landon is another Original. Brooke and Penna handle a ton of our tech, but Penna’s also a badass on a bike. Don’t let her cute looks fool you.”
“Noted,” I said, taking an empty seat in the front. He surprised me by sliding into the one directly behind me instead of beside me.
“Some view,” he said quietly into my hair, which I’d left down today.
I took in the floor-to-ceiling windows that ran the length of the room. For miles there was only blue Caribbean water. “Breathtaking.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, but I felt the slight movement of my hair, and when I glanced back, he dropped a few strands from between his fingers.
I snapped my head to face forward. Not for you. That guy is not for you.
“Good morning, class,” our professor said as she sailed through the doors, headed for the podium. Her red hair was swept into a topknot, and she wore the same kind of linen pants I did. “I’m Dr. Mae, and I’ll be your professor for World Literature in the first trimester. If that’s not the class you signed up for, the door is behind you,” she added with a friendly smile.
“We take on a ton of reading in this class, and I’ve found that students work better in pairs to discuss reading on their own time. First and third rows, turn around and meet your partner.”
I turned to see Paxton grin, his blue eyes sparkling more than the water we were sailing through. “Hi.”
“Go figure,” I mumbled. There was no escaping him. Why do you want to?
I nearly scoffed at my own thoughts. There was wanting something you couldn’t have, and then there was being shown fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies right out of the oven and being told not to touch—they’d burn you, and besides, they were for the prettier, whole girls, not the broken ones.
Broken girls got the stale, crumbled, oatmeal raisin ones.
“Now find out a few things about your partner, because you’re going to give their introduction.”
“You have to be kidding.” If there hadn’t been twenty eyes on me, I would have slammed my forehead into the desk. Like Paxton needed an introduction.
“Okay, what do you want the class to know, Mr. Wilder?” I asked.
His eyes narrowed slightly, and he sucked his lower lip into his mouth, skimming his teeth over it. My stomach clenched in a way it had no business doing, imagining what he would do to my lower lip.
“I don’t care about the class. What do you want to know?”
I blinked, tearing my eyes away from his before I couldn’t think. “I want to know what’s not on Google.”
One of his dimples made an appearance, and I had the most insane impulse to run my tongue along it. Holy shit, get a grip. “Ask anything you want.”
“What’s your major?”
“Physics. Come on, you can do better than that.”
“Why even go to college, or do this program, if you’re already a superstar?”
“I took last year off when we made it big. Graduating is part of the legal agreement to get my trust fund, among other things my father likes to bargain for.”
Trust-fund baby. Of course. “So it’s all about money?”
He shook his head. “It’s about the movie, the stunts, the rush, doing something no one’s ever done before. The money just makes it possible.”
“I thought you were sponsored? You have that energy drink stuff all over your YouTube channel.”
“Checking up on me again, eh, Firecracker?”
I felt my cheeks heat. “If I’d forced you onto a zip-line and into a documentary, scared the living crap out of you, and then nearly drowned you, you’d be checking up on me, too.”
“No, I’d be saying thank you. Everything you said sounds pretty damn good. Well, except the cameras. They get old fast.” He tapped his pencil on the desktop, and his eyes flickered toward the door, where there was, in fact, a camera with its lens against the glass panel. “Especially when they show up places they said they wouldn’t.”
“Then why keep them?”
“Because if no one sees the epic moments, did they ever really happen?”
Our eyes locked, and my breath became pure energy in my lungs, sending butterflies into my stomach while rushing a strange chill through my limbs. “I think it depends on who you define as no one. Not everything epic is meant for a worldwide audience.”
The cocky camera grin replaced the one I was quickly becoming enamored with, transforming him from Paxton to Wilder right in front of my eyes. “Well, that depends on what your definition of epic is. I can definitely say there are some one-on-one moments that aren’t meant for camera. Unless they’re giving the documentary an X rating.”
Well, if that didn’t kill the butterflies. Arrogant asshole.
“We’re going to get started,” Dr. Mae said, and the people down the line from us began their intros.
“You don’t know anything about me,” I whispered at him.
“Not nearly enough, Firecracker, but I can get through this.”
Why did I have the feeling that was going to be his entire attitude to schoolwork this year? Fine, if he wanted to skate by, I could do it, too.
Shit, it was already our turn.
“Begin when you’re ready,” Dr. Mae said from her desk at the front of the room.
“I’m Leah Baxter, and this is Wilder, but I’m sure you all know that,” I said, taking in every awestruck look on the guys and every wistful look on the girls. I nearly smacked Paxton in the stomach when I saw him raise his eyebrows for a girl in the third row. “Wilder is a senior, majoring in physics, most likely because he likes to hurl his body at every obstacle he can.” The class laughed. “He’s stubborn, ambitious, and has two X Game medals.”
“Five. I have five,” he corrected me, looking like I’d killed his puppy.
“He’s also a know-it-all. He’s all about challenges, doesn’t take no for an answer—”
“Except from you,” he muttered.
“—and likes pushing people outside their comfort zones.”
“I also speak fluent Spanish, Ge
rman, and Greek, but that seems pretty trivial,” Paxton added with a shrug.
Cocky, arrogant…ugh. I couldn’t even think of a less-offensive word to describe him.
Dr. Mae cleared her throat, poorly stifling a laugh. “Wilder?”
He gave me a crooked grin, and I reminded myself not to melt into a puddle in front of the class. Hell, if he gave that grin out any more there would be a pile of panties in front of him in no time. Thank God I was wearing pants. They were an extra layer of protection.
Even your pants would join the pile if he really wanted. I was so screwed.
“Leah is a junior, majoring in international relations at Dartmouth. She wants to get her Masters in International Relations and is currently ranked second in her class, which means I think she’ll get into whatever grad school she wants. She’s an only child, raised in California, only a dozen miles away from my house, actually—”
“How?” I whispered.
He leaned to the side and whispered in my ear, “If someone actually agreed to strap into a zip-line when they were terrified, and they held your future in your hands, don’t you think you’d Google them?”
I should have been flattered that he’d taken the time to research me, but I couldn’t get past the giant knot in my throat, the crippling sensation of complete paralysis. He’d Googled. What else did he know? How deep had he dug? Did he see pictures? Would his cool, flirtatious condescension turn to pity? God, I’d rather he ignore me completely than pity me.
“She’s had to work for everything she has, and that makes her proud, ambitious, which is a trait I recognize.” He looked over and locked eyes with me. “And she’s incredibly brave, which I respect above everything else.”
I swallowed, my emotions so conflicted that I wasn’t sure how to respond. Or breathe. Yeah. I was screwed.
Distance. That was it. Remember the plan. I needed to distance myself from Pax and the other Renegades when I wasn’t in class or tutoring him. Find a different circle of friends, or even a guy I might be interested in. Yup, that was the answer.
I made it through World Lit and headed back to the room during our two-hour break. Paxton walked me to the door and then promised to meet me before physics.
I walked in to find Hugo in my room, hanging up clean towels. “You don’t have to do that,” I assured him.
“You don’t have to tutor Wilder, either, but we both have jobs to do if we’re going to stay on our little trip,” he responded with a wide grin. “Besides, as people go, I lucked out when I got you. My friend Luke got Zoe.”
“Oh God.”
“See? I’ll fetch your towels all day long.”
I laughed. “Fine, but only if you show me how to work the freaking espresso machine.”
“I could make it for you,” he offered.
“Oh, no thank you. It’s honestly part of my routine.” The part that told me the day was coming for me whether or not I wanted it to, so I may as well hit the ground caffeinated.
He snapped his fingers and ran over to the machine, showing me with quick hands how to get my early morning caffeine fix.
“Perfect, now I’ll feel right at home. Thank you.”
“Speaking of at home, why haven’t you unpacked?”
I sipped my coffee, reveling in the dark taste. “Because I wasn’t certain I was going to keep the suite, honestly.”
“And now?” he asked.
“Given the rather odd circumstances of my scholarship, I don’t think I have a choice.”
His shoulders sagged with obvious relief. “Phew. Okay. I was scared you’d quit and they’d move Zoe in here.”
“You’re safe,” I promised him with a smile.
“In that case, I’ll go work on getting you unpacked.”
“No, I can—”
The doorbell rang.
“There’s a doorbell? Seriously?” It must have been Paxton, but we weren’t expected in class yet.
“Ah, how the other half lives.” He grinned.
“I’ll get it,” I said, walking over to the door and opening it to find Penna standing on the other side, two giant bags in her hand.
“Thank you, God,” she muttered, sliding in past me. “Which bedroom is empty?”
“The first one on the right,” Hugo answered.
“What…” I followed her into Rachel’s room, and she dumped her bags onto the bed.
“Oh, nice, it has a private balcony, too. Does yours?”
“Yes,” I answered. Benefits of a corner suite, I guessed. Not that I’d explored it. The huge one that ran between my room and Paxton’s was quite enough, thank you.
“I couldn’t stay in that room one more night, with the music, and the girls, and the fucking cameras. Pax said the cameras aren’t allowed in here, right?”
“Right…”
“Well, then I’m your roommate until your other one arrives. God knows if I have to listen to one more girl cry out Landon’s name I’m going to vomit. It’s like hearing your brother’s porn. Gross.”
My power of speech failed me.
“Besides, as much as we’re all adventurers, my parents had freaked about Brooke sharing with another girl, leaving me with the guys.” She wandered into the hallway, looking at the rooms. “What about your parents?”
“Um. They told me to have a good time?”
She walked into my room, where Hugo had my suitcase open on the bed and was unpacking my stuff. Then she picked up a large box of condoms out of my bag. Oh. My. Fucking. Lord. No.
“Those aren’t mine,” I whispered, knowing how much of an idiot I sounded.
Her laugh was bright when she turned over the box, then showed me the sticky note in my mom’s handwriting. “Be safe. Have fun. Loosen up for crying out loud. There’s a whole wide world waiting for you, Leah-bug. Love, Mom.”
“That’s what I get for being born to hippies.”
Penna wrapped her arm around my shoulder and tossed the condoms at Hugo, who was redder than the pair of cherry pumps he’d unpacked.
“I think we’ll get along just fine.”
After I kicked Hugo out and unpacked with Penna telling me hilarious stories while sitting on my bed, I realized that I hadn’t distanced myself from the Renegades at all…
I’d moved in with one.
Chapter Four
Paxton
Bermuda
I stretched my legs out, trying to avoid the Flyboard parts scattered on the floor next to me. I’d watched every minute of film Bobby’s crew had taken from the zip-line yesterday but still couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong or where the rigs had disappeared to. I wanted to write it off as a fluke accident, but the nagging feeling that it had been something more wouldn’t go away.
Penna and Landon had agreed that it was strange, but neither seemed too worried. After all, we’d done far more dangerous stunts and had way worse things go wrong. But just in case, no one else was touching these Flyboards.
“Seriously? Could you hurry up already? We have places to be,” Leah exclaimed from the doorway of my bedroom.
I nearly dropped the buckle assembly I was examining. “Well, I think that might be the first time a woman has said that to me in here.”
Her mouth dropped into a little O before she snapped it shut. “Well, you’ve only been sleeping in here a few days. Give it another week.”
“You’re assuming I’ve ever had a complaint. Usually the only requests I get in here are along the lines of faster, harder, deeper.”
She sputtered, and I couldn’t stop the grin that transformed my features and my mood. After the last few days with Leah, I was realizing that she did that to me. Even when she told me to go to hell, I kinda wanted to go because it riled her up.
“Where is it you think we’re supposed to be?” I asked, picking up the hose coupling and inspecting the seal.
“We’re in Bermuda.”
“And?”
“We have a mandatory field-study today. All day. And it starts in half
an hour.”
Was that a gap? I pulled it closer and ran my finger along the seam. Nope. Good to go.
“We have to leave, so get your butt off the floor.”
I looked up. Damn, she looked good today. Her pants were skintight—leggings, that’s what Penna called them—and her blue top was oversized to fall off one shoulder, revealing a black bra strap.
Maybe her panties matched, too.
Was she a thong kind of girl? In those pants she had to be.
“Paxton, it’s time to go!” She crossed her arms and tapped her little sandaled foot at me.
“You go. I’m getting ready for tomorrow. Hell, add in a massage on me. Have them charge it to your room.” I reached for another part, but she beat me to it, snatching the board.
“This isn’t for fun, Paxton. It’s for World Religion.”
Fuck. I’d gotten through three of the flyboards, but there were seven left to examine. “Is it required?”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Yes. That’s what I just said, which you would know if you’d put this down and pay attention.”
“I have things I need to do,” I argued, tugging on the hose.
“Yeah, like pass World Religion. Now stop whining and let’s go.” She pulled harder.
We locked eyes, and I read the determination in hers. “What will you give me if I go?” I asked. I could check the remaining gear tonight.
Her eyes rolled. “A pat on the back for being a good student. I’m your tutor, not your nanny. Now be a big boy and do the mature thing.”
“Not good enough,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips. She was so much fun to piss off. That’s when her shell peeled back to reveal a fire I desperately wanted to feel, to witness her burning.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“I want your tomorrow.”
“You have my next nine months. That should be sufficient.” She turned her wrist to check her watch. “We’re going to be late!”
“The world might end.” Hell, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been on time for something.
Her lips pursed, but it wasn’t the anger that got me moving, it was the spark of fear in her eyes. She was seriously worried about missing whatever fucking field trip we were supposed to be on. “I want your tomorrow. If I go where you say today, you go where I say tomorrow.” Maybe if she saw the fun side of what we did, she’d start to understand.
Wilder (The Renegades) Page 5