Wilder

“Really. I’m just saying that he’s been a jerk since he got hurt, but if there’s something there, give it a shot.” He shrugged.

“Yes, wise one.” I bowed my head.

“Hey, admit it, you’re glad you kept the suite,” he said as we boarded the bus.

I couldn’t believe there had been a time when I almost said no to everything…to Paxton. “You’re right. I’m glad.”

“Firecracker?” Paxton asked as I approached where he sat. He pointed to the empty seat next to him and I took it after Hugo shot me a knowing look.

“Feel like talking now?” I asked.

“No.”

I leaned out of my seat to move. I might be a little crazy over the guy, but I wasn’t a martyr. He stopped me, his fingers gentle on my wrist as he pulled.

“I just want to be near you, if that’s okay.”

I sat down. How the hell could I turn that down? “Okay,” I said, and settled in for a silent trip to the market. I looked past Paxton to where the Blue Mosque waited in quiet repose. The inside had stolen my breath, reminded me how much work it was to build something worth standing, worth marveling at.

“What are you thinking?” he asked as the bus rolled into Istanbul traffic.

“How beautiful things last when they’re built well and loved.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything.

The drive over had me holding my breath more than once. I’d seen aggressive drivers, but even that trip to New York City couldn’t hold a candle to this insanity.

The entire ride, I wanted to touch him, to put my hand on his and tell him that we’d figure out what was going on, or I’d let him figure it out on his own if he needed to. His eyes tracked everything as we drove by, his foot tapping. I’d seen that look before as he was planning a trick. I knew that he was thinking, but I didn’t quite expect it to hurt so much to be shut out.

But what the hell did I expect? We’d been together all of what, two weeks? Were we together? He said so, but I never did. What was worse than craving Paxton from an unattainable distance? Being in relationship gray area with him.

Maybe it was better to have a clean break now before I dug myself any deeper, though. Right? Cutting losses and all.

The bus stopped on the side of the street, and Dr. Williams gave us the lecture about staying together, and safety, and how easy it was to get lost. I tried to pay attention, but all my focus was on the tiny crack in my heart that was growing by the minute.

Better to feel that now than to wait around for him to pulverize me. And besides, you couldn’t miss what you never had.

Except those tiny slivers of time where he’d been mine—those shone brighter than the rest of, well…everything.

We filed out of the bus and moved as a herd through the pedestrian-only street, passing under a stone arch that read Grand Bazaar.

As we entered the covered market, I moved my sunglasses to the top of my head. It was stunning, a kaleidoscope of colors, sounds, and the scent of fruit and spices. The stone arches stretched above us for what seemed to be miles. The whole atmosphere was alive, raucous, and slightly overwhelming.

“Okay, take note, you have one hour,” Dr. Williams said over the noise. “Do not be late. Ship pulls out at five p.m. sharp, and I’d like to be on it.” He waved us free.

“Want to shop with us?” Hugo asked, pointing to his friends.

My gaze darted to where Paxton browsed in the booth next to us, picking up a ceramic crocodile. “I’d better stick with Paxton.”

“You take those tutor duties seriously.” He winked.

“Always,” I answered with a flat smile.

“How about I bring up some ice cream for you and Penna later?” he offered.

“Only if you binge with us.”

“Deal.” He looked in Paxton’s direction. “Remember the coffee.” Then he met up with his group of friends, and they took off in the opposite direction.

I kept Paxton in my peripheral vision while I looked at the intricate jewelry boxes in the booth. The blue one was gorgeous, but way outside my price range, so I set it down.

“How much do they want for it?” Paxton asked, picking it up.

“Too much,” I answered.

“So? Get it. I haven’t seen you buy yourself a single thing on this trip besides sunscreen.” He opened and shut the lid.

“I need to be careful with my money. I budgeted everything before I came, and I can buy myself one thing for the whole trip.” I turned away from him, running my fingers over the other boxes. They were all so detailed.

There was a vendor with teapots across the walkway. “I’ll be right over there,” I said as Paxton picked up something else within a glass case.

The teapots were as ornate as the boxes, the lines graceful yet functional. I flipped one over and nearly swallowed my tongue at the price.

“I like that, too,” Paxton said, leaning over my shoulder.

“Rachel and I have a thing for teapots,” I answered.

“Rachel?” he asked.

“My roommate who isn’t here yet.” I turned the pot over again. “She’s supposed to meet up with us at second trimester.”

“Right.” Paxton nodded. “I’m glad to hear she’s still coming.”

“Yeah, she’s chomping at the bit.”

“So the teapots?” he said, taking it from me to check it out.

“She loves that quote by Eleanor Roosevelt, the one that says women are like tea bags, because you never know how strong we are until we’re in hot water. We both had rough freshman years, and it kind of became our thing.”