Wilder

And she already owned the top two.

“Thank you,” she said.

This girl was tying me in some serious knots. “I had them bring up pajamas for you, if you wanted to hop in the shower.”

“Thank you. That sounds like heaven.” She pushed off the couch and stood, her stretch revealing another tantalizing strip of skin, this time of her stomach. “I’ll take the couch tonight. Your ribs need that bed.”

Hell no. “Absolutely not. My ribs are fine. You’re in the bed.” When she cocked her head at me, I almost laughed. “I never said chivalry was dead. I’ll sleep on the floor before you’re out here on the couch.” After the day we’d had, the last thing I was going to do was put her to bed on the couch.

The few feet that separated us felt like a mile, the words we’d thrown at each other in the market coming back to wedge their way between us.

She nervously chewed on her lower lip before meeting my eyes. “You know what? We’re adults. We’ll both take the bed.”

My mouth went dry, every possible scenario running through my oversexed brain. Could I sleep next to her and keep my hands to myself? Yes, because you’re not a fucking animal. Don’t be an ass. “Okay.”

Her smile was tentative. “Okay. Then I’ll be right back.”

She disappeared into the bathroom, and my eyes locked onto the door like I was suddenly going to develop X-ray vision. She was getting naked. Twenty feet away from me. I groaned, rubbing one hand over my eyes and the other adjusting the growing issue in my pants.

The draw I felt toward her was incredible, indescribable. Stronger than magnets, than chemistry, it was a primal, clawing need in me—not necessarily for her to be mine, but for me to be hers. To be worthy of being hers after all the shit I’d done, the fuckups of epic proportions that never went away.

And once she realized what I’d done…why I’d really chosen her…

I was so fucked.

This wasn’t how I planned it.

She was nothing like I assumed she would be. She was strong yet unsure, smart yet naïve. Innocent, yet so sexy that my hands literally tingled whenever I thought of getting them on her skin.

Skin she wouldn’t show anyone.

She turned on the water. Now she was naked and wet.

“Knock it off. It’s not like she invited us,” I said to my overly excited dick.

I fired off an email to Penna and Landon to explain our current situation, making sure they knew we were fine, had funds and a plan. The last thing I needed was them calling in the cavalry. I had zero doubt that if I wanted to, I could get us onto the Athena tomorrow. But then I would lose out on the private time I had with Leah, this precious chance to simply be with her. No school. No cameras. No distractions.

I left them with instructions not to rescue us and hit send.

Now I had to find a way to get us on the same page, to take down whatever walls she’d constructed.

The shower still ran. I debated all of five seconds and fired up Google.

This is wrong. Don’t do it.

I brushed the angel off my shoulder. If I didn’t know what had happened to her, I couldn’t help her, and obviously she wasn’t opening that door on her own. I didn’t need to throw it wide open, just enough to get a peek.

Eleanor Baxter, California.

I typed three words into the search engine and sold my soul to the devil as I hit enter.

The screen filled with links, and I clicked the first one, my heart sinking at the title of the article. “Granada Hills Senior Survives Fatal Canyon Car Accident.”

The article loaded, and the picture of a crumpled car at the bottom of a ravine came into focus. Holy shit.

How the hell did she walk away from that?

Maybe she didn’t.

I devoured the article.

eighteen-year-old eleanor baxter was found late last night, severely injured, clinging to the topanga canyon wall, over one hundred feet above where the car she had been a passenger in burned into the morning. the driver, identified as nineteen-year-old brian newcomb, was killed in the crash.

reports indicate that newcomb lost control of the vehicle, a late-model honda civic, which went off highway 23 a little over twenty-four hours before santa monica fire and rescue discovered the scene, using a helicopter rescue team to bring ms. baxter from the ravine.

initially, the vehicle had rested along the canyon wall, but eventually fell to the bottom of the ravine.

“i don’t know how she hung there so long,” captain delmonico, with smfd told us. “it looks like she was in the car almost eighteen hours before she managed to get out. with the condition she was in, it’s a miracle she held on for another six hours. strong young lady, that one is.”

strong indeed. what is even more miraculous is that she wasn’t killed during the initial crash, as the driver was.

“eleanor told us that brian died instantly. she said he went quickly and without pain, and that’s all we could ask for our sweet boy,” claudia newcomb, the deceased driver’s mother, told us. “we know he would have done anything to keep her safe, and we’re so thankful that she made it out.”

ms. baxter has declined to comment.

My chest tightened, my vision swimming, until I remembered to suck in a breath. I’d held it the entire time I’d read the article. I closed out all the windows on the laptop and slammed the lid shut, wishing I didn’t know. Wishing I hadn’t invaded her privacy.

Wishing she’d told me herself.