“I was so scared,” she mumbled, her eyes half closing. “I looked down and…I shut down. I’m sorry I was so weak.”
“No, no. That’s not weakness. Don’t think that.”
“It wasn’t all bad. I woke up with you holding me. I knew you’d come.” Her trust made me feel invincible while simultaneously scaring the shit out of me.
“Of course I came,” I whispered. “I damn near flew to get there.”
She forced her eyes open, her blinks becoming longer and longer. “No one came that night.”
Every muscle in my body locked. “Leah…”
“I waited, but no one came. All night. Then the next day. No one came.” She leaned deeper into my palm.
“I’m here,” I promised.
“I don’t want to be scared anymore, Pax. Will you help me? You’re never scared.” Her eyes closed. How much of this would she remember in the morning?
“Yeah, Firecracker. We’ll get you past it.” We would. No matter what she needed, I could do it. It was the least I could do after I was the one who dared her onto the half-pipe in the first place. Yet another person my ego injured.
Her breathing evened out, and I let myself run my hand over her hair before standing to leave. I had the door open when she called my name.
“Pax?”
“Leah?”
“Class is at ten a.m. tomorrow,” she slurred. “If you’re late, I’m telling everyone that tattoo on your neck was a gift from your current boyfriend.”
“Got it.” I laughed as I shut her bedroom door.
I went to every single class until we docked in Barcelona three days later.
Chapter Eight
Leah
Barcelona
“Come on. We have three days in Barcelona. The least you can do is spend one with me.” Paxton leaned against my doorframe, looking good enough to send my heartbeat—and hormones—into overdrive. I swore, when that guy came within fifteen feet of me, my panties knew before I did.
I rolled my eyes and slipped my money and ID into my travel wallet. “I am. Tomorrow. Today, I’m touring the churches for extra credit, which is what you should be doing.”
“I’ll go with you tomorrow, and what the hell is that?” he asked, pointing to my wallet.
“It’s a wallet,” I answered.
“It’s the weirdest wallet I’ve ever seen.”
“It hooks on my belt and goes inside my clothes to protect me from pickpockets. Stop changing the subject.” Where was my sunscreen?
“I went to every class.”
“Do you want a gold star?” I asked, putting my sunglasses on top of my head. My tank top straps slid down my shoulders.
“That should get me something,” he damn near whined.
“Yeah, like a good grade,” I threw back.
“You’re impossible. Turn around.” He made the circle motion with his fingers, and I did as he asked.
“Why? And what is so freaking important about today?”
I jumped when his fingers brushed against the bare skin of my back, and my breath hitched as he manipulated the strap, tightening it for me. God, if he could do that with one touch, what would it be like if he actually ever meant to turn me on? I’d probably spontaneously combust.
“I’m doing something really cool, and I selfishly want you to watch. And then I may have planned something for us.”
I froze. Planned something? Like a date? No. There was no way he would ever consider that. “Like what?” I turned slowly, bringing me crazy close to him—so close that all it would take was a push onto my toes and I could actually kiss him. But I couldn’t kiss him. I was his tutor, and he’d moved me off his fuckable list within minutes of meeting me. That look on his face, though…that didn’t say that the attraction was one-sided.
“You only get to know if you come with me,” he said, his smile slow and incredibly sexy. “Come on, Firecracker. Trust me.”
It was his eyes that made me waver, made me forget damn near every thought in my brain besides Paxton, and sex…and Paxton. His hands, lips, smile, body, intensity—everything I wasn’t supposed to want. Mush-brain, indeed. “Fine, but I promised Rachel I’d call her today, so you have to have me back before midnight. Did you just fist pump?”
“Hell yes, Cinderella, I’ll have you home by midnight. Now take your fanny pack and let’s go.”
“It’s a wallet!” I called after him as he practically skipped out of my room. “You asked him to help you,” I muttered to myself. No matter what he had planned, I was going to give it a try. I had to find a way to push past this fear, as paralyzing as it was. The way my body had shut down… It was a miracle I hadn’t hurt more than my pride in that fall.
…
Two hours later I walked up to Brooke, who leaned against a tiled wall on a hilltop in Barcelona overlooking the Park Guell, Gaudi’s exquisite creation that looked like Dr. Seuss had dabbled in architecture.
“Leah!” She hugged me, squeezing a little too tight.
“If you say that you’re sorry again, I’m going to walk away,” I said with a smile. She’d been apologizing nonstop for three days.
“I can’t help it. I’m just…”
I narrowed my eyes at her.
“I’m just so excited to see them pull this off.”
“That’s better,” I said, leaning cautiously over the wall of our ten-foot-high overlook to see the majority of the park that had been emptied for production. Beautiful tile mosaics decorated the walls that rose against the blue sky, a gorgeous cacophony of color and light that somehow reminded me of Paxton—pieced together in a way that shouldn’t make sense yet was hypnotic to the eye.