Wilder
Page 38“For doing this to us,” she answered, her eyes wide and scared. “For ruining something that was so easy and so good by kissing you.”
“You’re sorry for kissing me?”
She tugged her lip between her teeth and nodded quickly. “I didn’t give you a choice, or a chance to think about what it could change between us.”
“It was a kiss, not a contract,” I said, trying to get a hint of where she was coming from. “Why do you think it changes things?”
“Because I took advantage of you,” she whispered.
Bullshit. I walked around the coffee table until we stood inches apart. “No. That’s not what happened on that beach.”
“It is. What were you supposed to do? When you didn’t kiss me back at first… God, I was mortified, and then when you did…” She sighed, looking anywhere but at me. “I’m your tutor, and I put you in a shitty position.”
“Did you ever stop to think that maybe I liked my position? That maybe I wanted to kiss you just as badly?”
She shook her head.
I tipped her chin so she’d meet my eyes. “There were cameras coming at us, and then my brother showed up. Trust me, if that moment had happened here, the outcome wouldn’t have left you wondering if I wanted to kiss you.”
“It was only a moment,” she whispered. “We can take it back.”
Not fucking happening. “Why would you want to?”
I ordered my nerves to settle. She was skittish—one wrong move and I’d be back to square one, and now that I knew where I wanted to be…well, square one wasn’t it. “There’s no pressure. I’m not in a rush. If you need to think, that’s okay with me, but I already know what I want.”
“I need a minute,” she whispered, the plea desperate.
It went against every instinct I had, but I could do this.
“Okay,” I said, and backed away from her slowly. “This assignment isn’t due for a couple of days. Let’s pick this up tomorrow?”
“Paxton, I’m sorry,” she said, a slight note of panic slipping in.
I gave her my best smile. “I’m not. Not about any of it.”
Then I did something I’d never done—conceded the battle and walked away.
But the war would be worth it.
Chapter Ten
Leah
Barcelona
“Leah?” Rachel’s voice came through the phone, and for a second, it felt like I was home, safe. “You kissed who? The hot guy you’re tutoring?”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “But we were on a beach, and we’d just gone parasailing, and he’s so beautiful and has this edge that makes me feel insane.”
“Back up. You went parasailing? Is this Eleanor Baxter?”
“Right? He makes me do crazy things!”
“Well, I’m all for he-who-cannot-be-named,” she cheered.
“I’m so sorry that I can’t tell you his name.” Stupid NDA. All I wanted to do was spew my guts to my best friend, and I was legally bound to keep it all to myself.
“It’s okay. Makes it more of a mystery for when I get there.”
I laid my head on the back of the couch. “I can’t wait. Seriously. These people, the things they do—the things I do around them…” I trailed off, unable to explain what it was about Paxton that had me zip-lining, and parasailing, and kissing him on the beach. There were no words for the effect he had on me, the way my skin flushed the minute he walked into the room, every nerve waking up and coming to life.
“It’s not drugs, is it? Oh God. Leah, you’re not getting mixed up with that, are you?” Her worry was palpable from 3,600 miles away.
“What? No. Nothing like that.”
“Okay, well, then I say enjoy yourself. Kiss the guy!”
She full-out laughed, and I rolled my eyes while I waited for her to stop.
“It took Romeo and Juliet one night,” she argued.
“Yeah, and look how that turned out.”
She sighed. “What made you go on this trip?”
“You, duh,” I scoffed.
“Yeah, I know we applied together, and I know that I was a huge factor in the choice when the acceptance came in—when the scholarship was offered—but what made you go when I couldn’t make it?”
“Besides the experience for grad school? I wanted to live.” Not just fake it like I had been since that night. Not in the routine monotony I’d used as my safety net, but to breathe free where my chest didn’t hurt when I took in too much air—too much light. The grief, the healing, the fear…it had ruled me for so long, and I was desperate for a change. Instead I got a complete revolution.
“Then live. Kiss the guy. Or kiss a different guy if you want. Go on a trip. Sleep in, or get up early and watch the sun rise. Stop thinking about what you should be doing and for once in your damned life do what you want to do.”
“When did you get so smart?” I asked, my eyes prickling.
“I’m not. I just know a thing or two about liking reckless boys. A lot of reckless boys.”