Wilder
Page 51“There’s a difference between being alive and living. I live. Every day. I challenge everything, even the law of gravity.”
“Because you like people screaming your name,” I hurled.
“You nailed it. It’s all about the fame, isn’t it?” he said, his voice dripping sarcasm. “It’s about landing the trick, about doing something that’s never been done before. About breaking every limit set, even the ones of my own body, because I make the rules. I decide what can and cannot be done. And it’s honestly a hell of a lot of fun.”
“Fun.”
He leaned in closer. “Fun. You know, what happens when you let go just a little, step outside your bubble, maybe put on a pair of shorts.”
I flinched. “You’re an asshole.”
He smirked. “I’ve been called worse.”
“Given the trail of women you leave in your wake, I don’t doubt that.”
“Every woman I fuck knows what she’s getting into.”
I tried to swallow past the giant ball of pain that lodged in my throat. “And you wonder why it’s hard to trust you.”
His shoulders dropped, and he backed up a step. “So that’s where we’re at?”
“Is there a we?” I asked, my voice losing almost all of its fight.
“I thought so. But you see, there’s the difference between us. I saw you and I wanted you. I talked to you and I liked you. I felt this connection between us and I jumped. You’re the one on the fucking fence, as usual.”
I would have snapped back, but damn it…he was right.
His hand cupped my face. “When are you going to understand that’s where life begins? Right at the edge of that fear.”
I looked away, unable to hold his gaze for one more second before I crumbled. I flipped my wrist and gasped. “Oh my God. Paxton, we were supposed to meet up with the class ten minutes ago.”
He straightened. “They won’t leave us. Let’s go.”
We backtracked our steps through the alleys, but they all looked the same. The arches looked the same, the roofline, too. When we came to the crowded main walkway, he grasped my hand. “Stay with me.”
“Yes,” I answered.
His smile did little to conquer the fear racing down my spine, but he was with me…what could happen?
“There’s the door,” he said, and we raced toward the arched exit. Thank God.
I blinked and pulled my sunglasses down as sunlight assaulted my eyes. “Wait,” I said, spinning. “This isn’t the way we came in.”
“But that’s the exit,” he said.
I looked at the door. “It’s door four. We came in door nine.”
He swore under his breath. “The whole layout is like a wagon wheel. We just need to get to door nine,” he said, and pulled me back into the market. We ran the outside path of the market, counting the numbers of the doors as we passed them.
“Nine!” I said, but my heart sank and then pounded. “They left us.”
He looked at his watch. “We’re a half hour late. Damn it. What I wouldn’t give for my fucking cell phone right about now.”
He nodded like he’d made a decision. “Okay, we need to find a cab and get to the port.”
My hand clasped tightly in his, we made our way through the crowded path until we reached the street. Paxton tried for five minutes to hail a cab and finally stepped into traffic.
A cab stopped right before hitting him.
I was too scared of missing the ship to chastise him, just got in the backseat. Paxton slid in next to me and, over the course of another five minutes, managed to convey our destination to the cabbie. We jolted into traffic, and I bolted forward when the driver hit the brakes.
Paxton leaned over me and fastened a seat belt that looked like it had been installed during the disco era. We hit gridlock traffic, and I broke into a sweat.
“They’re going to leave us,” I said as I looked at my watch.
4:55.
“They’d better not,” he muttered. Then he glanced over at me and sighed, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pressing a kiss to my temple. “I’ll take care of you.”
I scoffed. “Who is going to take care of you?”
He laughed. “There’s my Firecracker.”
We were stopped on the bridge when I looked past him and lost all hope.
“Hey, Pax?”
“Yeah?”
“How are you sure?” he asked into my hair.
I pointed to the window. “Because that’s the ship.”
Paxton’s attention snapped to the gorgeous white cruise ship with Athena painted across the bow that was currently sailing out of Istanbul.
“Well, fuck.”
Chapter Fourteen
Paxton
Istanbul
“What are we going to do?” Leah asked me, her voice pitching higher with every word.
My brain raced. It wasn’t like we could land a helicopter on the ship…or could we?
“Whatever you’re thinking, try bringing a little reality into it,” she suggested, her eyes wide. “We’re not strapping ourselves to the backs of dolphins or trying out a jet pack—”
I covered her mouth with mine, quieting her the only way I knew how—the only way I wanted to. I kissed her breathless, losing myself, groaning at the way she responded to every stroke of my tongue, every soft bite at her lower lip. I kissed her to put a Band-Aid over the gaping wound we’d ripped open in that market.