Wilder (The Renegades) (2 page)

His incredibly sexy grin widened. “You didn’t mean to say hi?”

I blinked. “No, of course I did.”

“Then I don’t see an issue.”

One of the partygoers knocked me off-balance—and right into Wilder. He caught me easily, his fingers flexing on my waist. I should have worn a thicker tank top—the silky material of this one let the heat from his hands right through to wake up every nerve ending in my skin.

“Are you okay?” he asked, turning the full force of his incredibly blue eyes on me. Magnetic. Glorious. Hypnotizing. Those were all better words to describe the insane variations of color there, or the way he pinned me in place without a single ounce of effort.

My first impression had been right. He could probably make me come with one look…and that exact look was trained on me with all the accuracy of a guided missile straight to my thighs.

I didn’t believe in love at first sight. I wasn’t that stupid. But science? Chemistry? Pheromones? Yeah, lust at first encounter, I believed that all day long.

Words, Leah. Find them.

“Oh, you found your tutor,” Little John said with a slap on Wilder’s back. “We have to go soon, so get ready.”

Wilder stiffened and carefully set me away from him. “You’re Eleanor Baxter?”

“Leah,” I corrected him automatically and dug my thumbs into the belt loops of my jeans.

“Holy shit.” He closed his eyes.

“Are
you
okay?” I turned his words around on him.

He nodded, his eyes squeezed tight. “Just moving you out of the fuckable category in my brain. I’m going to need a minute.”

Wait. He had categories? Scrap that. I’d barely met the guy and he’s already friend-zoned me?
Out of your league.

“Leah,” he said, opening his eyes with a slight smile, like he enjoyed saying it. “So what can I do for you?”

“You can explain why I’m in a crazy-huge suite that I can’t possibly afford and ask them to move me, since apparently you have the power over where I sleep.” I crossed my arms under my breasts, well aware that I was fidgeting.

“Oh, do I?” he asked with a suggestive smile.

Apparently friend-zone was still flirt-zone to him.

I tried to look over his shoulder but, realizing he was too tall for that, I peeked around his side at the collection of girls who might have had an entire outfit if you strung their clothes together. “Unfortunately. Look, I don’t mind tutoring you. I’m happy to do it to be in this program, but I can do it as effectively from deck four. I want my assigned room back. Now.”

His eyes widened. “You’re turning down the suite?”

My spine straightened. “I am.”

“Wilder, we gotta go,” Little John said, handing him a mess of black straps.

“That’s not okay,” Wilder said.

“Dude, we have a schedule, and the crew is already set up and ready.”

He waved off Little John. “No, we’re cool, I’m talking to Leah. You can’t give back the suite. It’s yours.”

“No.” I shook my head.

He stepped between the straps and twisted himself through the contraption until he had it on, clipping what was apparently a harness over his chest with a final snap. “Leah, it’s paid for.”

Wait. What?

I blinked rapidly, knowing that my anti-capitalist parents would be groaning if they heard my hesitation. “Mr. Wilder, that’s…that’s way too much. All I needed was my room and board; even the shore excursions were too much.” What did he expect from me with that kind of “gift”? What kind of access was he looking for?

“It’s Paxton to you, or Pax, whichever you prefer, and you’re keeping the suite.”

“Wilder, we have to go,” Little John shouted over the music, the brunette next to him impatiently glaring our way.

“Right. Leah, if we can finish this later?”

I shook my head. I was only getting this courage up once. Anything more and I’d be basking in the glory of that room, the view, the bed, and the way that tub would soothe my sore muscles. “No. We’re finishing this now.”

He cocked his head to the side exactly like he had out on the deck, but the pensive guy wasn’t here. No, this man was sure, confident, and oozed a blatant and obvious sexuality that made me glad I had my jeans on. “Are you ready for an adventure?”

“What? I came on the cruise, right? And what does that have to do with the mini-mansion my suitcase is currently camped in?”

He studied me carefully, and I shifted my weight. Being around this guy threw me off my hard-earned balance, and I couldn’t afford that, not when I was barely back to standing on my own as it was.

“Okay, well, if you want to keep up this discussion, you’ll have to come with me. Is that okay?”

“Fine,” I answered.

“After you.” He motioned toward the doors, and I walked in front of him through the party. Once we reached Little John and the brunette, who shot me snotty looks like it was her day job, Paxton stopped.

“Zoe, how about you sit this one out. I’ll get you another time.”

Her jaw dropped. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“I’m not.” He dismissed her without another look, calling out to his guests, “Let’s continue this on deck, shall we? I’ll meet you guys at the pool!”

They all cheered as we left the room. “International frat party,” I mumbled as I followed Little John’s massive back down the hallway.

“I’m not in a frat.” Paxton laughed behind me as we dodged a couple of students moving into their rooms. “Now could you please tell me what it is you have against that room? It’s nice. I checked it out to make sure.”

I looked back over my shoulder. “Did you know that my scholarship includes my best friend, too? It’s already too much.”

He shook his head like I was nuts. “But you’re earning it as part of your compensation. Trust me, you’ll more than earn it.”

Compensation? He’d better not think—
I stopped dead in my tracks and he bumped into me, the metal on his chest strap hitting me in the head.

“Oh man, you okay?” he asked and reached for my head, but I stepped away before he could make contact. Once had been more than enough.

“I’m your tutor. You know that, right? Only your tutor. Just studying. There’s no need for me to have a giant suite with a”—I swallowed—“separate bedroom.”

“Is that what you think?” he asked with an incredulous laugh. “Leah, get in the elevator.”

We moved into the small space, and Little John pretended to ignore us, fiddling with the straps of another harness in his hands to give us privacy.

“What am I supposed to think?” I asked as we descended. “I was already told that you’d need
easy access
to me. I just want to make sure we start out with a crystal-clear understanding of what we both expect.”
I’m sure as hell not your beck-and-call girl.
Especially not the call-girl part.

“I can’t escape people even in my own suite,” he answered simply, watching the numbers light with each floor we passed. The doors dinged, and I followed him out through the crew deck to the exit ramp.

“What does that have to do with my suite? And why are we leaving the ship? We’re supposed to sail”—I checked my watch—“in exactly fifteen minutes. I’d kind of like to be on board when that happens.”

“Don’t worry. The ship isn’t leaving without me, and I’ll get you on board.” His smile deepened, revealing two dimples.
Damn.
I had to find a way to not be affected by this guy if I was going to successfully tutor him for the year. I wouldn’t exactly be effective with mush brain, and then where would I be? He had to pass, or my scholarship was gone. Rachel’s scholarship was gone. The amazing experience for grad school was gone. That was the deal. Besides, he was just a pretty face, and it took a lot more than that to turn my head.

Fine, then as of this moment, you are not attracted to Paxton Wilder. Nope. Not at all.

“Watch your step,” he said, offering his hand as we moved onto the ramp.

Okay, well maybe a little attracted.

I took his hand, more worried about falling on my face than anything else. His skin was warm, his grip firm on mine as we moved down the ramp. He let go, and I realized that we’d reached the bottom.

I hadn’t slipped or freaked about the height once. Miraculous.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

“No problem,” he answered easily. “Look,” he started as we walked through the nearly empty terminal in the opposite direction of where I’d entered earlier today. “I want you to keep the suite, and it’s selfish, I know.”

“How is that selfish?” I asked, walking next to him.

“School’s never been easy for me. Ever. I need someplace quiet to study, and I’m hoping you’ll lend me your living room—and your brain—at night, that’s all. I made sure you were close to my room so I don’t have to go far, and I can’t exactly move you in with me without raising some eyebrows. I promise we’ll work out a schedule. I don’t expect you to be at my beck and call, but I’m going to need your help. A ton of your help.”

Beck and call?
It’s like he’s in your brain.
“You’re honestly that worried about your grades?”

“There is more than you could ever imagine riding on my grades right now. And, well, you have your work cut out for you.”

Before I could question him, Little John opened the door to a stairwell and ushered us straight to another elevator while he whistled. The doors dinged open, where a tall, lean, hot, equally tattooed guy leaned against the wall, wearing the same kind of harness as Paxton.

“Cutting the timing a little close, aren’t we, Wilder?” he called out, uncrossing his arms and openly glaring at me.

“Leah, this asshat is Landon, my best friend. Nova, meet Leah, my tutor.” He emphasized the last two words.

“Oh.” His eyebrows rose over crystal green eyes. “Nice to meet you, Leah. You ready for this?”

“I think so,” I answered. “As ready as you can be for a cruise around the world, right?”

His eyes narrowed, and he shot his gaze toward Paxton. “Wilder…”

Paxton sighed as the light moved from floor to floor with our ascent. “Leah, remember that whole nondisclosure agreement you signed to get your scholarship?”

“Sure. I signed an NDA about whomever I would tutor for their privacy.”

“Right. And the media release?”

My forehead puckered. There had been so many papers I’d signed. “The one that said I would release my image, video, that kind of thing for future promotion of the program as part of my scholarship agreement?”

Paxton winced. “Yeah, about that. We’re kind of making a documentary, and being my tutor, you’re probably going to show up in it a little.”

“A documentary? For video class or something? And by a little, you mean…”

He scratched the back of his neck. “A lot. I mean a lot. I’ll do my best to keep you out of the camera, but it’s going to happen. I mean, as long as you want to stay as my tutor, it will.”

I knew what he was saying: if I didn’t agree, I couldn’t be his tutor. Not being his tutor meant no scholarship, no cruise. No Mykonos. No Rachel.

Do it for her.

I pulled in a deep breath. “How long do I have to decide?”

“About twenty seconds,” Landon answered.

“What?” I shouted.

Paxton hit the emergency stop on the elevator. “You have as long as you need. But your answer is kind of holding up the departure of the ship.”

I rubbed the damp skin of my forehead and cursed my jeans for the thousandth time. It was only a little documentary. Who was possibly going to see it? The media club at whatever college he went to? “Okay, fine.”

He relaxed next to me and gave me a relieved smile as the elevator started to move again. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Besides, there wasn’t much interesting about me, anyway. I’d mostly be in the background.

The doors opened, and the cameras that met us were anything but amateur. They looked like they cost more than my parents’ cars.
Oh. Shit.

“Pretend they’re not there,” Paxton whispered.

“Right. Because that’s possible.”

The cameras and crew moved out of our way as we walked onto what was obviously the top of the terminal’s tower. Glass walls greeted us, as well as at least a dozen people holding cameras, microphones, and lights. “This isn’t for your college media club, is it?” I asked quietly.

“No. It’s not.”

“Of course not,” I mumbled.

“You ready for this?” Landon asked a camera like it was a real person. He’d transformed instantly, from sulky to star, making me wonder which one was more the real him. “We’re about to kick off this worldwide spectacle.”

“What about you, Wilder?” the cameraman asked.

“I was born ready,” Paxton replied, his voice downright arrogant. He’d undergone the same transformation as Landon, oozing a cool, cocky persona that gave me whiplash.

“And who is your new flavor?” Someone in the crew laughed.

“Watch your mouth, Lance,” Paxton fired back, pointing his finger. “Leah is new to the Renegade family, and you might not realize it, but she’s got your job in her hands.”

The room fell to a hush, and all eyes swung toward me. I had zero clue what the hell Paxton was talking about, but I managed a shaky smile and wave for the camera. “Hi.”

Smooth, Leah.

“Wilder, we’re all set up for single on left, tandem on right,” Little John said from across the room, where a single glass door was open to the balcony.

Paxton led me through the crowd until we stood on the grated metal balcony.
Holy shit.
How many stories up were we? How far apart were the metal slats? For the love of God, I could see the sidewalk through the space between my feet and the small crowd that had gathered there.

My vision narrowed, blackening at the edges, and what had been the grate seconds earlier now looked like a steep canyon wall with nothing between me and the ground hundreds of feet below. I blinked rapidly until the grate returned.

“I think I’ll go inside,” I whispered, backing up slowly until I bumped into Little John’s belly, my breath accelerating.

“This is for you, Bambi,” he said, handing me the harness he’d been carrying.