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Wilder

Page 8

“Hey, I heard that,” I sputtered. It usually took me dumping a girl the morning after I fucked her to get that kind of label. Not that I’d mind fucking Leah—hell, I was already itching to get my hands on her incredibly perfect ass—but that would ruin any chance of me getting through this year with the GPA I needed.

“Good,” she spat back.

“Oh, I like her.” Landon laughed.

“Shut up, Nova,” I threw back with his stage name, knowing the cameras were on us, and reminded myself to warn Leah about how he got that “Casanova” nickname in the first place.

I buckled in behind Leah and pulled her tight little body back against mine by her harness. The minute she made contact, she nearly sagged against me, and I had the strangest instinct to wrap her in my arms and carry her back to the ship, fuck the stunt, the cameras, all of it. Something told me that all that anger thrown my way was masking another emotion—fear. “Are you sure?” I asked, my lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she whispered.

We moved forward to the edge of the platform the Renegade team had built, and she stiffened again. “I…I don’t do heights.”

Now she fucking tells me. God, I was an asshole. “Say the word, and I’ll call it off, Leah. We’ll find another way to get you onto the ship.”

“No.” Tremors ran down the length of her body, but her voice was sure and strong. “I’ll do it. Just…” Her breathing picked up, and I wrapped my arms around her, nearly enveloping her tiny frame. “Just don’t let me fall.”

She trusted me. An almost unrecognizable feeling unfurled, stretching through my limbs, the need to protect her making me feel simultaneously like a prick for putting her through it and as strong as Superman with her in my arms.

But why did I suspect this slip of a woman was going to be my kryptonite?

I shook the stupid thought out of my head. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I swear it.”

“Okay, then let’s get this over with.”

I gave the thumbs-up to Landon. “Nova?”

“Good to go! Wilder?”

“Let’s rock this!”

A running leap and we were airborne, the exhilarating rush racing through my veins in a familiar hit of the only drug I was addicted to—adrenaline.

Leah’s breath stuttered in her chest, and then she let out a gasp, her hands not reaching for her own tether, but my arms still wrapped securely around her waist. I should have let her go, given her the foot or so of space that safety dictated, but something told me she’d be safest closer to me.

Or maybe it was my own insane need to get a little closer to her.

We passed over the bow of the ship, then the bridge, until we neared the top deck, the bass from the party reaching up to welcome us to our temporary home. The thousand or so students on board partied beneath us, cheering as we soared overhead, passing too quickly for any of them to come into focus.

The drop zone was before the pool, a huge air cushion with a giant X, as if there was any chance I was going to miss it. I reached up right around the same time as Landon to apply the brakes and slow us down.

I pulled, but nothing happened.

We flew past Landon, and I pulled harder. Fuck.

Don’t panic. I reached forward for the separate braking mechanism on Leah’s harness, but it gave way with too much ease. If anything, we were moving faster.

The drop zone would be on us in one second, and we were going way too fast. You promised her she’d be safe, that she wouldn’t get hurt. At this speed, she was in real danger of hitting the air cushion and flying straight off it into the crowd, or worse, off the boat.

“Can you swim?” I shouted, squeezing her ribs.

“Yes?” she responded.

“Good!” The drop zone sped underneath us in less time than it took to breathe. “Hold your breath!”

I felt her chest expand. Right before we reached the pool, I grabbed both of our kill straps and pulled with all my strength, saying a little prayer those worked. They gave way.

We fell.

I tucked her into me and raised my knees so I’d take the brunt of the impact.

Fuck, this is going to hurt.

We hit the water so hard I was astonished that we didn’t bounce. My breath abandoned me and pain shot up my back, but I didn’t let go of Leah, not until my ass hit the bottom of the pool. Then I pushed her up with all the strength I had so she popped to the surface.

I kicked my way to the sun, then filled my lungs with pure, sweet air. “Are you okay?” I asked Leah, who treaded water next to me. Her eyes were huge, her breaths choppy and verging on hyperventilation. “Leah?” I closed the distance between us and pulled her against me, moving us back to the shallows until I could touch the bottom.

Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound emerged.

“Dude, that was epic!” a student called out from the side of the pool, and I became aware that we were very much in the public eye.

“Renegades! Renegades!” A chant erupted.

For the first time in my life, I didn’t give my wild Renegade grin to the camera, didn’t throw my hands up in victory. Instead, I cupped Leah’s face in my hands and tilted her chin so I could meet those whiskey-colored eyes. “Leah, I need you to say something. Anything.”

She took a full breath, and her tremors stopped as she brought her hands to my chest. “You. Are. An. Asshole.”

Well, I guess that was something.

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