Wilder (The Renegades Book 1)

Barcelona

“Come on. We have three days in Barcelona. The least you can do is spend one with me.” Paxton leaned against my doorframe, looking good enough to send my heartbeat—and hormones—into overdrive. I swore, when that guy came within fifteen feet of me, my panties knew before I did.

I rolled my eyes and slipped my money and ID into my travel wallet. “I am. Tomorrow. Today, I’m touring the churches for extra credit, which is what you should be doing.”

“I’ll go with you tomorrow, and what the hell is that?” he asked, pointing to my wallet.

“It’s a wallet,” I answered.

“It’s the weirdest wallet I’ve ever seen.”

“It hooks on my belt and goes inside my clothes to protect me from pickpockets. Stop changing the subject.” Where was my sunscreen?

“I went to every class.”

“Do you want a gold star?” I asked, putting my sunglasses on top of my head. My tank top straps slid down my shoulders.

“That should get me something,” he damn near whined.

“Yeah, like a good grade,” I threw back.

“You’re impossible. Turn around.” He made the circle motion with his fingers, and I did as he asked.

“Why? And what is so freaking important about today?”

I jumped when his fingers brushed against the bare skin of my back, and my breath hitched as he manipulated the strap, tightening it for me. God, if he could do that with one touch, what would it be like if he actually ever meant to turn me on? I’d probably spontaneously combust.

“I’m doing something really cool, and I selfishly want you to watch. And then I may have planned something for us.”

I froze. Planned something? Like a date? No. There was no way he would ever consider that. “Like what?” I turned slowly, bringing me crazy close to him—so close that all it would take was a push onto my toes and I could actually kiss him. But I couldn’t kiss him. I was his tutor, and he’d moved me off his fuckable list within minutes of meeting me. That look on his face, though…that didn’t say that the attraction was one-sided.

“You only get to know if you come with me,” he said, his smile slow and incredibly sexy. “Come on, Firecracker. Trust me.”

It was his eyes that made me waver, made me forget damn near every thought in my brain besides Paxton, and sex…and Paxton. His hands, lips, smile, body, intensity—everything I wasn’t supposed to want. Mush-brain, indeed. “Fine, but I promised Rachel I’d call her today, so you have to have me back before midnight. Did you just fist pump?”

“Hell yes, Cinderella, I’ll have you home by midnight. Now take your fanny pack and let’s go.”

“It’s a wallet!” I called after him as he practically skipped out of my room. “You asked him to help you,” I muttered to myself. No matter what he had planned, I was going to give it a try. I had to find a way to push past this fear, as paralyzing as it was. The way my body had shut down… It was a miracle I hadn’t hurt more than my pride in that fall.

…

Two hours later I walked up to Brooke, who leaned against a tiled wall on a hilltop in Barcelona overlooking the Park Guell, Gaudi’s exquisite creation that looked like Dr. Seuss had dabbled in architecture.

“Leah!” She hugged me, squeezing a little too tight.

“If you say that you’re sorry again, I’m going to walk away,” I said with a smile. She’d been apologizing nonstop for three days.

“I can’t help it. I’m just…”

I narrowed my eyes at her.

“I’m just so excited to see them pull this off.”

“That’s better,” I said, leaning cautiously over the wall of our ten-foot-high overlook to see the majority of the park that had been emptied for production. Beautiful tile mosaics decorated the walls that rose against the blue sky, a gorgeous cacophony of color and light that somehow reminded me of Paxton—pieced together in a way that shouldn’t make sense yet was hypnotic to the eye.

However, I highly doubted the half-pipe that rested at the bottom of the iconic steps in the courtyard before us was part of Gaudi’s plan. Or the mini ramps situated around the park leading up to it.

Most of the camera crew was locally hired for this one; there were too many places they needed to catch shots, and I watched them scurry into position.

“Here they come,” I said, watching the first riders—these ones on BMX bikes—make the park their personal playground.

“Are you ready for an adventure?” Brooke asked, laying on her best Paxton impression.

“That was scary close.” I laughed.

“There’s Penna!” she said, leaning farther to see her sister pull a 360 off one of the rails. It was hard to believe that the girl with the supermodel looks rode like one of the guys.

“I can’t believe they let them shut down the park for this,” I said, watching another wave of riders, this one with Paxton in the lead and Landon on his heels.

“They had to agree to extreme protective measures of the art, hire locally, and you know Paxton’s father throwing money at it didn’t hurt.”

“It never does, right? Are they all like that? The Originals?”

She shook her head. “No. Paxton and Landon come from money. Big money. Penna and I, well, our parents aren’t hurting, that’s for sure, but Nick—” She rubbed her forehead and forced a fake smile. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” I said. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

The park was quiet for a moment, resetting the course for the real shots now that the riders had navigated it once.

“You have as much right to know as anyone, seeing as you’re a part of this now.”

I scoffed. “Falling off a half-pipe does not a Renegade make.”

She tilted her head, watching the cameramen adjust their angles. “No, but carrying Paxton does. Where he goes, they follow. What he does, they emulate. If he fails, they all do, and you’re more a part of that than you know.”

“Why do you follow?” Holy shit, foot in mouth much? “Crap, that wasn’t how I meant that to sound. I mean if you don’t get into all of this”—I gestured to the scrambling crew and Renegades hauling their bikes back up to the top of the park—“why would you spend your life around it?”

“You haven’t researched their little Renegade troop much, have you?” she asked with a wry smile.

I shook my head. “No. Once I knew who he was, what he did, I decided it was best to let him show me who he was as opposed to judging him based off what everyone else assumed. I’m kind of stuck with the guy for the next nine months.”

“You’re good for him,” she said quietly.

“I’m nothing to him,” I replied. “Just his tutor.”

“If you believe that, maybe you’re the one who needs the tutoring. I’d give you the cliché of ‘he’s different around you,’ but you don’t know what he’s like normally.”

Before I could ask her what she meant, the second wave started. We watched, entranced by the different tricks they pulled on the pipe, cringing when they didn’t quite make it, and cheering for the ones who did.

“I didn’t realize how many there were,” I said.

“There’s probably close to twenty CTDs on board, all with different ways they’re willing to put their bodies on the line to worship at Paxton’s altar.”

The tone in her voice brought me up short. “Have you ever…worshipped at his altar?” Why the hell does it matter? Why would you care?

She laughed. “Hell, no. Paxton’s pretty much a brother to Penna and me. And even if I could manage some level of attraction to him, I have personally witnessed the revolving door that doubles as his bed. He’s not as bad as Landon, but at least Landon has his reasons.”

Something precious inside—that I hadn’t even realized had been growing until this moment—withered and died. “Right. He does enjoy the chase.”

She gently covered my hand with hers. “I wasn’t talking about you, Leah. He’s careful with you—around you.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I waved her off, slipping my hand free and trying to find my composure when I had no freaking reason to lose it in the first place. Paxton wasn’t mine. He was free to sleep with whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

Oh, speaking of whomever, that was Zoe on rollerblades.

Brooke followed my line of sight. “He hasn’t slept with anyone since we left Miami.”

Damn it, that pesky feeling was back. “I don’t—”

“Care, I know. But you should know that, just in case you do. I’ve never seen him as scared as he was when you fell from the pipe. The way he held you after…”

My attention snapped to her, despite Landon’s turn on the pipe. “He held me after?” Oh God, was that my voice sounding so lovesick?

She nodded, her eyes slightly watering as she looked back to the park. “I wish someone held me like that.”

This time I covered her hand as Paxton took to the pipe on his BMX. He glided like he was part of the bike, his speed, agility, and acrobatics simply…beautiful, there was no other word for it. The way he moved his body, the confidence in his abilities, it all drew me in when I knew I should be backing away.

Then he flew higher than I’d ever seen, twisting in the air in a move that left me breathless. “Whoa.”

“Five-Forty Double Tailwhip. That practice paid off,” Penna called up, cheering when he dismounted the ramp. “And if you think that’s great, wait until you see him on a motocross bike.”

I was too stunned to move.

Paxton looked up at me with a wide grin and bowed as if he’d performed only for my pleasure. My smile was impossible to contain as I clapped for him.

The rest of his crew then did the same, all bowing up to where Brooke and I watched, and my laughter was instant.

I’d known who he was since Miami, but it had never hit home until this moment. He wasn’t just any extreme athlete, he was one of the best in the world.

“We have to do another set, is that okay?” he asked.

“Of course,” I called down. “I’m having fun watching you.”

You sound like one of his groupies.

“Wanna try?” He wiggled his eyebrows under his helmet and GoPro camera.

“Not in a million years. Now go start the wild rumpus.”

“What?” he asked.

“Well, let’s face it, you’re pretty much king of all the wild things around here.” Even his name, Pax, was too close to Max to not draw the comparison to my favorite children’s book.

“I’ll go find my wolf suit,” he said, laughing as he walked off.

Knowing he’d gotten my little joke made me smile even wider.

The trees to the left of the staircase rustled, and three preteen boys popped their heads over the concrete barrier only high enough to see the pipe. “We have an audience,” I told Brooke.

“Always do,” she said. “They all want to be just like the Renegades. Well, until they realize what it costs.”

“What’s that?” King of all the wild things, indeed.

“Time, tears, broken bones, and broken hearts.”

The next set began, and while the others were good—Landon the best, even—none of them held my attention like Paxton. Only Pax made me hold my breath with his tricks and made my pulse pound.

Then one of the CTDs lost his board mid-trick. His arms and legs flailed as gravity pulled him back to the ground. The cracking sound sickened my stomach.

Paxton and Landon ran to the ramp while the staff huddled around the rider. “Who is that?” I asked.

“Not sure,” Brooke said. “But my guess would be that arm is broken.”

A few minutes later, the guy stood, supporting the injured arm, and Paxton walked him off to a nearby waiting ambulance as the others went back to the pipe. “They’re not going to stop?”

Brooke laughed. “None of them would ever have gotten this far if a broken arm stopped them. Hell, Penna had broken both her arms at least three times before our parents stopped trying to talk her out of this career choice.” Her smile faded. “Nothing stops them, even when it should.”

On his way back to the pipe, Paxton paused at the concrete barrier and leaned over. He’s seen the boys.

All three of the boys stood, but instead of kicking them out, Pax signed their skateboards and took selfies. Warmth bloomed in my chest, tight and freeing all in the same breath.

I ignored it and concentrated on the tricks in front of us until it was time to call it quits, but damn if it didn’t keep coming back every time I watched Paxton.

…

“You’re kidding me, right? This is some kind of bad joke?” I asked as he handed me a harness on the beach of Barcelona later that afternoon.

“It’s your choice,” he assured me, his eyes as blue as the water behind him and just as distracting. Maybe he could talk with his eyes closed.

“If I say no?”

“Then we take a nice boat ride along the coast.”

“If I say yes?”

“Then we parasail. That’s where the boat pulls the towline and we float up under the parachute.”

“I know what parasailing is,” I snapped. My shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t think this was what you had in mind.”

“Don’t ever be sorry for telling me how you feel. I’d rather know than have you fake it. You asked me to help you get past the fear, right?”

“Sure, when I was drugged,” I mumbled, looking at the sand between my toes. It had been a stupid thought that I could even try to conquer the terror, but I couldn’t afford to pass out every time I was put in a risky situation. But seriously, how many times was I ever going to be put in that position?

Depends. Are you planning on hanging around Paxton much?

“Then let me help you.”

“Maybe we could start with something a little lower first,” I suggested.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Something where my feet stay on the ground?” I smiled.

“That’s not going to help you. I promise this is safe, and there’s already a parachute. And the minute you say you’re done, we come down.”

“We?” I blinked. “You’re not sending me up there alone?”

His forehead puckered. “No. I was going to take you up tandem. I mean, if you want to go solo, I won’t stand in your way.”

“No!” I shouted. “I mean, if we’re doing this, I’d rather have you with me. You seem like you’re pretty handy in these situations.”

“Then you’re in?”

“If you’re with me, then I’m in.”

The crew strapped us in side-by-side, and I thanked God I’d worn leggings today. They slid easily through the harness. “So this is safe, right?”

“Absolutely,” Paxton answered.

“Are you sure? I saw this show where the line snapped, and this father and son, well, stepson, went flying into the jungle and crashed into a tree and then the stepdad died.” One of the techs stifled his laughter as he snapped my harness in place.

Paxton’s eyes narrowed. “Wasn’t that one of the Jurassic Park movies?”

“Yeah? So? It’s still parasailing.”

“Well, if I remember correctly, the line was snapped because a dinosaur bit it.”

“So?”

He cupped my chin, and I about melted. “There are no dinosaurs in Barcelona. We’ll be okay, Leah.” His eyes dropped to my lips, and they automatically parted, more than ready for everything my head stubbornly refused.

What would happen if he kissed me? If we crossed the line—and he broke my already pieced-together heart? I didn’t know if I’d be able to tutor him if I became just another one of his notches. But the closer he came, the louder my heart cried out that it was healed enough to try.

That was the thing about hearts, though—they jumped and then it was always up to the brain to put them back together, and Paxton had the power to shred me if I wasn’t careful.

“Ready, Wilder?” Bobby asked, the cameras aimed in our direction. I hated that we hadn’t been able to shake them, but there hadn’t been a good enough reason to ditch them.

“Are you ready for an adventure, Leah?” Pax asked me softly, where the cameras couldn’t hear.

“Don’t let me get hurt.”

All trace of kidding fell from his face. “I will never hurt you, and I won’t let anything else, either. Understand?”

I nodded, wishing he’d answered the question I was too chicken to ask. We listened to the instructions from the boat crew, and thanks to my Paxton distraction, before I knew it, we launched into the air.

I closed my eyes as a shriek ripped from my throat, and I bit my lower lip to silence the sound. Paxton took my hand from the harness, lacing our fingers. There was nothing but wind beneath my feet, just air that would be only too happy to let me fall.

But Paxton…he wouldn’t.

“You can close your eyes the whole time, but you’ll never see this view again.” His thumb stroked the palm of my hand.

I slowly opened my lids and gasped. “How high are we?” High enough to feel surreal, which is oddly more comforting.

“Don’t think about it,” he urged. “Look, you can see La Sagrada Familia.”

“What?” My eyes darted to the cityscape and found the world-renowned church. “That’s amazing!”

“I wonder if we could get extra credit in World Religion for this,” he joked. “And there’s the Park Guell.” He pointed with his empty hand. “Where we were riding earlier today.”

The city was beautiful from here, divided from the Mediterranean by a strip of beach. “This is…I don’t have words,” I said.

He squeezed my hands. “I know.”

“Is this how you feel when you’re doing a trick?” It was exhilarating, pure joy flooding my bloodstream, infusing every cell in my body with an incomparable high.

“Not usually.”

I looked over at him. “Why?”

“Because tricks I have to work for, practice on. They take every ounce of my concentration, my body, my mind, all of me is in it.”

“And this is just fun,” I guessed.

“Usually.”

That pressure was back in my chest. “But not this time.”

He shook his head. “This time I used everything, my concentration, my body, my mind, all of me, to get you up here, and seeing you smile feels better than landing any trick.”

Up here there was nothing to distract me from his words, his eyes, or the tenderness in either of them. “Thank you,” I said.

“You’re so welcome,” he answered with a soft smile.

I kept my eyes on the city to the side of us, or the shoreline ahead of us, never looking down, never letting go of the wonder in my heart just in case the fear crept in and stole this moment from me.

It was over too quickly and not soon enough, my fear escalating the closer we came to the ground, until Paxton took the brunt of our landing on the soft beach.

You did it! I wanted to shout to the sky that I was victorious—that I’d won this one battle, and it was more than enough. It was a taste of what I’d been before that night, before I knew what it was to watch love die right in front of me. It was freedom, joy, exhilaration, and the ability to simply breathe. And it was all because of Paxton.

He unclipped our parachute and unsnapped our harnesses from the towline, his hands moving quickly with supreme focus. Focus, that for once, I needed on me. My stomach tightened, my heart jumping like it did right before I zip-lined, already knowing that it might be the wrong choice, but I’d made my decision.

“How are you feeling?” he asked when he saw that I stood there, simply watching him.

I didn’t have words, only this overwhelming need buzzing through me, demanding to take another, more dangerous leap. Paxton had given me something priceless, and I didn’t know how to communicate everything that meant to me, what he was starting to mean to me, but I knew I had to.

I’d never wanted something—someone—so badly in my life.

Damn the consequences.

“Leah?” he asked, leaning down slightly to cup my cheeks in his hands, then swiping his tongue across his lower lip—his nervous tell.

My fingers found the warm skin of his biceps, and before I could find the words I wanted to say, I surged on my toes, pressing my mouth to his and kissing him. Our lips clung, the simple pressure lasting far longer than I meant it to.

I hadn’t meant for it to happen at all. Not really.

Oh God. I kissed Paxton. I’m kissing Paxton.

But then I realized he wasn’t kissing me back.

I broke the contact, that pressure in my chest turning nearly sour, my heart pounding not in exhilaration but embarrassment.

“Leah,” he leaned down and whispered against my lips, the sound equal parts discovery and plea. Then he kissed me. His mouth moved gently over mine, his hands cradling my face as if I was something precious and rare, each new caress stripping away another hardened layer of my soul. He didn’t press deeper, even though I was ready to beg him to, just gave me that soft kiss that lingered, made me burn for more.

His tongue caressed my lower lip, and I leaned in to him. It was perfect. He was perfect.

Then he suddenly stopped, stepping back like I’d burned him, his chest heaving.

“Paxton?” I asked, my voice shaking from everything I’d risked, everything I’d stupidly thought I could have.

He met my eyes, and the desire I saw there soothed the raw edges of my nerves. He licked his lips, not in nervousness this time, but as if he could still taste me, and I seriously debated attacking him a second time.

With the simple touch of his lips, he’d awoken something in me I’d thought long dead, and I wanted more.

He shook his head, as if he knew what I was thinking, and that’s when I heard them running toward us, their footsteps heavy in the sand.

“We got some amazing shots!” Bobby said, his breath even where his overweight cameraman was damn near hyperventilating.

“Good,” Paxton said, his voice rough but his touch light as he unbuckled the snaps on my harness so I could step out. How could he function perfectly when I could barely breathe?

“How was your ride?” Bobby asked me, but putting two words together proved impossible.

“Enlightening,” Paxton answered, sparing me.

“What do you think, Leah? You going to do it again?”

I locked eyes with Paxton, and he raised an eyebrow, both of us sensing a second meaning to that question. “I’m not sure.”

A corner of his mouth tilted up into an incredibly sexy smirk. “Yeah, you are. I’m sure enough for the both of us.”

Before I could respond, Paxton looked over my shoulder and swore under his breath.

“What?” I asked, turning to see what upset him.

Standing about fifteen feet away in a well-tailored suit was a man who might have been a clean-cut version of Paxton if he’d had any spark of life in his judgmental eyes. I felt like I was standing there naked or something else equally exposing.

“Paxton. If I could maybe have some of your time?” the man asked, his voice the same deep timbre of Pax’s.

“Who is that?” I asked quietly.

“The angel of death,” he responded as the man walked toward us.

“Very funny,” the man replied, his eyes traveling the length of Paxton’s body before he rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Paxton, you’re in Barcelona, one of the foremost centers for culture and architecture, and you’d still rather concentrate on stupid antics and getting laid than go to a museum.”

I stepped back, stopping when I came into contact with Paxton’s chest.

“Leah, meet my brother, Brandon. Brandon, this is Leah. Do you want to tell me why the hell you flew halfway around the world?”

“Sure,” Brandon answered, his smirk nearly identical to Paxton’s but for the edge of malice. “I’m here to shut you down.”