Wilder (The Renegades Book 1)

Barcelona

“You have zero authority to shut me down,” I growled at my asshole brother as he put ice cubes into one of the glasses on my bar.

We’d successfully completed three of the stunts, and we hadn’t had a repeat of the zip-line incident. There were zero grounds for him to pull this shit. Hell, I was even beginning to relax.

“So this is what four hundred million dollars will buy you,” he drawled. “You don’t even have a decent bottle of liquor.”

“Settle for a Corona,” I said, pulling one out of the mini-fridge and handing it to him without opening it. He could slice his hand open for all I cared. “Now tell me what the fuck you’re really doing here.”

“Besides attempting to talk you out of your lunacy?” he asked, sitting in the largest armchair like it was his living room…his ship.

“Make your point or get the hell out of my room, Brandon. If you’re interested in seeing the Mediterranean, you can do it from one of Dad’s yachts. There’s one parked in St. Tropez, or I don’t know, maybe visit Mom.”

His eyes hardened. “Unlike you, I work for a living. I’m not off gallivanting, chasing an idiotic dream like I’m five years old on the dirt pile.”

I smirked, letting his comments roll off as always. “Funny, seems like that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

“If you answered emails I wouldn’t have to fly around the world to track you down.”

“Bullshit, you’d fly across the world if you had the craving for gelato.”

He tapped his fingers rhythmically on the glass, the perfect picture of control. “What you’re doing is ludicrous. I’m not going to approve funding this.”

“Well, let me know when you’re in charge of Wilder Enterprises, and then we can have this conversation again. Until then, I have a contract with Dad.”

His eyes widened.

“You didn’t know?” A childish thrill of victory brought a smirk to my face. “I assumed that was how you discovered what we were up to.”

“Your asinine zip-line got posted to YouTube. Once I saw that, all I had to do was inquire as to Bobby’s whereabouts to find you.”

“How many hits do we have?” I asked. Please be over a million. We needed the boost to market the film.

He shook his head. “That’s all you’ve ever cared about. Your stupid fucking tricks, and medals, and video games, and the Renegades.”

“Sorry you don’t have your own video game yet. I’ll let you know when they come up with Corporate Asshole Three, okay? I know a couple guys who will slip you in.”

“Grow the fuck up. Dad indulged you with every stupid thing you thought would be fun, and he looked the other way with the tattoos, the piercings, the women, even dropping out last year—”

“Hey, it was only one piercing, and I took it out.”

“But now you’re blowing how much money on this project? Risking how many lives? For Christ’s sake, Dad had to buy the ship. You couldn’t finish college like a man, you had to make a movie out of it?”

My fingers dug into the upholstery on the chair, wishing just once I could beat the shit out of my straightlaced, clean-cut, Wharton-Business-graduating older brother. But I loved the asshole, so I kept my shit in check. “Why are you really here, Brandon?”

He leaned back. “Dad is passing the company to me.”

“Bullshit. There’s no way he’s stepping down. He’s given up way too much for that company to walk away.” Things like his marriage.

“The signs are there. He’s shifting assets, buying property.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “You came all the way over here to tell me that there are signs he’s passing the company to you?”

“No, I came because I was already in London,” he said with a slow smile. “And you may be a jackass, but I miss you.”

“You’re not going to fight to shut me down?”

He shook his head. “Not if you have a contract with Dad. That’s beyond even my control. Want to share the terms?”

“A little annoyed that you don’t already know them?” I guessed.

“Yes.” He sighed and loosened his tie, then ran his fingers over his hair, jacking up the professional gel job. Now he looked more like my brother and less the corporate stooge he’d turned into these last few years.

“The boat, getting UCLA to sponsor the Study at Sea program…we had different goals.”

“Dad’s is to get you through college.”

I flinched. “Yeah, I know, and I used that against him to get what I wanted. I’m not proud, but it was the only way I could get the movie made. So we both gave what we didn’t want to get what we needed.”

“So you have learned the art of business,” Brandon said with a salute of his glass. “Why is this movie so important to you? It’s not like you’re hurting for money or fame.”

“Nick is. And it’s not about the fame or the money. It’s about the team, and Nick still being crucial to it.”

Brandon’s breath left in a hiss, and he took a long pull of the beer. “That’s not your fault. It wasn’t your fault when it happened, and it’s not your fault now.”

“Fault and responsibility are two different things.”

He stared at me the same way Dad did when he was making an assessment. “Okay. And your grades?”

“If I fail my classes, he pulls the plug.”

“Harsh.”

“It’s harsher for my tutor. If I fail my classes, her scholarship is yanked.”

“Now there’s responsibility for you. Anyone I know?”

I hesitated. Leah was mine. Not in the possessive sense, but in simply knowing about her. What we had—whatever it was—was ours. The minute I told him who she was, Brandon had something to use against me.

Trust him.

“The girl on the beach,” I answered. “Leah.”

I had to applaud his poker face; he didn’t even blink. “The one I saw you kissing? Do you think it’s smart to fu—”

“Watch it,” I warned softly. Damn it, that’s why you should have kept your lips to yourself. But she’d kissed me, all soft and happy, and that first touch was enough to break me. I’d almost succeeded in keeping that wall between us, but she’d tasted so damn good.

His head tilted slightly. “Okay. Well, is she qualified? I mean to tutor you, not the other stuff.”

“Very. She goes to Dartmouth, and she’s brilliant, stubborn, and driven.” And mine. Damn, that was the second time my brain had gone all primal about Leah in the last five minutes. When had that instinct kicked in?

When you decided to say fuck the consequences and kiss her back. Or maybe when you protected her from the cameras, or when she first agreed to the zip-line.

The only thing I knew for certain was that it didn’t matter when—it only mattered how I was going to convince her to take a chance on us. Us. Yeah, I’d just thought that. Us. I thought it again to try it on for size.

Shit, I was ignoring Brandon.

“—back in Los Angeles until you graduate.”

The door to the suite clicked open, saving me. “Pax?”

“In here,” I called out.

Penna walked in, her gaze darting between Brandon and me. “Oh, hey, Brandon. I didn’t realize you were in Barcelona.”

“I was just leaving,” he said, redoing his tie and standing. “Good to see you, Penelope. Pax, try to stay out of jail, okay? Not all the shit you guys like to pull is legal.”

We said our good-byes and he walked out, my blood pressure immediately dropping with the sound of the door closing behind him.

“Why the hell is he here?” she asked.

I loved Brandon, but he didn’t do anything that didn’t suit his immediate needs. “I don’t know, but it can’t be good. Knowing him, he honestly flew over here to find out what kind of deal I struck with Dad and how to manipulate it.”

“Agreed. Just don’t give him anything he can use against you.”

And now he knew about Leah.

Fuck.

…

“I’ll expect your papers filed in eCampus no later than midnight on Friday,” our World Religion professor said into the bus microphone as we parked at the cruise terminal the next day. We’d seen enough churches that they’d all started to blend in by the afternoon. All except La Sagrada Familia, which might have been the coolest church I’d ever seen in my life.

“Ready?” I asked Leah as I stood in the aisle. She clutched her bag with both hands.

“Yes,” she said, scooting out from the seat.

“One word again? You’re so talkative today. Everything okay?” I asked, ready to poke her in the side to get her to talk to me.

“Yep,” she answered with a fake smile, standing in front of me.

I didn’t know whether to shake her or kiss the shit out of her. My entire body screamed for the second option, especially after spending all day next to her, watching her smile at architecture when I wanted her to smile at me, catching the scent of her perfume and the orange shampoo she used, listening to her laugh at something Hugo said.

I may as well have not existed.

We filed off the bus and headed for the ship. “Hey, Leah, we’re over here,” I said, pointing to the quicker entrance. She looked up at me, those eyes so full of conflict that I couldn’t get a read on her emotions.

Welcome to the club, Leah.

“You know, Hugo and I were going to grab dinner, so I think I’ll just go in the normal way,” she said, her lips pressing together in a flat line.

Fucking ouch.

“Okay, well, then you two kids have fun,” I said, forcing a smile that probably looked more like a gremlin. “Study tonight?”

She wavered. Hell if I was going to let her cancel our plans because she was freaked over what had happened yesterday. “We have that Lit assignment for Epic of Gilgamesh, remember?”

Her eyes closed briefly. “Of course I remember. Yeah, that’s great. Tonight.”

She turned and walked away, and not that I didn’t enjoy the view of her ass in those jeans, but for once I’d love to see her walking toward me.

“I liked it better when she was kissing me,” I mumbled.

“Tell me you didn’t,” Landon said.

I swore under my breath and turned, ignoring his disapproving look. “I did.”

He looked up like he was praying for patience. “Worth the potential of fucking up everything that we’ve worked for?”

“Every second.” My answer was instant.

“And you’re going to let her walk away?” he asked.

When did he switch to Team Leah?

“I don’t have much of a choice.”

He started laughing, and I had the urge to toss him into the water instead of walking up the ramp with him.

“What the fuck is so funny?”

“You, my friend. You.”

We gave our IDs to security for scanning, and then headed on board. “And how the hell am I amusing?”

He turned, clapping me on the shoulder. “You’ve never had to work for a woman that you wanted. They’ve been falling into your lap since you were fifteen.”

“That’s not true!”

“Name one girl you had to work for. And by work for, I mean, say more than, “I’m Paxton Wilder and I have a big pipe.”

“Hey, that was one time, and it was to another skateboarder. She totally got the meaning.”

“Pax.”

I tried to run through my mental Rolodex of women and found that I couldn’t think of any, or remember most of their names. “Okay, point taken.”

“You have two choices. You back away now, ignore whatever happened, and preserve your working relationship—”

“Not an option.” Not when I could still feel her lips moving with mine, hear the tiny rush of air she released when we parted. My hands still itched to feel her skin under my fingertips, my head wouldn’t stop running through things to say, and my dick wouldn’t stop making his opinion known, either.

“Well, time to work, brother.” He gave me a somewhat sympathetic half smile, laced with a flash of pain that sliced through me because I knew I’d helped put it there.

“I don’t know what to do. She’s not like the others.”

“The good ones never are, and they don’t usually give second chances, either, so don’t fuck it up if you’re serious.”

He was right, and he knew from experience. I only had one shot at this, and the fate of our working relationship, my grades, the documentary, and whatever was happening with Leah and me was hanging on my ability to not screw it up, because I was incapable of staying away from her.

No pressure, or anything.

…

Holy shit, I hadn’t been this nervous to lose my virginity.

I knocked four times on her glass door and slid it open when she waved me in.

“Sorry, I wanted to be comfortable,” she said dismissively from the bar, putting lemon into a glass of ice water and shrugging.

Translated: I didn’t dress up for you. I don’t care about impressing you.

No, she’d dressed down, and the result had my mouth watering. Her pajama pants were plaid, loose, and looked soft to the touch as they hung off her hips, showing a strip of smooth skin before her ribbed tank top started, hugging every lush line of her body to the bare skin of her shoulders. Her hair was up in a messy knot on the top of her head, the loose pieces ghosting the arch of her neck.

Instead of dressing up to look beautiful, she’d accidentally made herself fuckable.

It would be so easy to come up behind her, slip my fingers into the elastic of those pants, and slide them down to finally see that ass I couldn’t get out of my dreams. I’d spin her back to the bar, lift her to the counter, and settle myself between her soft thighs while I devoured her.

“Paxton?” she asked, interrupting my fantasy. “Did you want to sit down?”

“Absolutely,” I said, turning abruptly so she didn’t see my raging hard-on. Get yourself under control. What are you, fifteen?

Once we were settled, me in the armchair and Leah on the couch, she started. “Okay, so we’re dealing with the themes of love here, of how it changes you.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” I said, thumbing through my notes.

“You don’t think love changes you?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been in love,” I answered.

“Oh,” she said, blinking quickly. “Well, in my limited experience, it has the ability to change you, break you, for good or for worse, depending on the person you foolishly fall for.”

Warning bells went off in my head as we locked eyes. “You think all love is foolish?”

She blushed. “No, but maybe my choices have been in the past…or currently, I guess. But back to Gilgamesh—”

I ignored her subtle dig and went for the crack in her armor. “What about those choices is foolish?”

“We’re not talking about me.” She flipped open her laptop.

“I am.”

“Well, I need you to concentrate on Gilgamesh and his transformation from a tyrant.” She bit a pencil between her teeth.

“Sure, after you tell me what was foolish,” I dared.

The pencil fell to her lap. “Seriously? This isn’t tit for tat. I don’t need to study; I already know the thematic arcs in the book.”

Oh good, that wall she loved to hide behind was back up. Too late, Leah, I already know what’s behind it.

I put my books on the coffee table and leaned forward, resting my forearms on my knees. “Doesn’t matter what you know. Both of our trips depend on what I know.”

“You’d screw yourself to get in my head?” She crossed her arms under her breasts, pushing the creamy globes higher above the neckline of her tank top.

“I’d use every weapon in my arsenal to get in your head.” Landon was right. I was going to have to work for Leah like I did every single stunt, with a plan and a ton of balls. Half-assed got you hurt. It was all-in or watch from the sidelines.

I was all-in.

“Or maybe just my pants,” she said quietly.

My eyebrows shot to the ceiling. “Is that what you think this is? Me just trying to fuck you?”

“I—I don’t know.” If her blush deepened any more she’d match the throw pillows.

I swallowed the ball of rage that tried to climb up my throat. I had a shit reputation when it came to women, and that was all she’d seen when she’d researched me. But she should know better. I hadn’t touched another girl since we boarded. Since I met her. “If all I wanted was to get laid, I could walk downstairs to the lounge and bring at least one—if not two—girls back up with me. Problem solved.”

“And that’s supposed to make me think what?” she shot at me.

“That you’re not one of those girls!”

“Exactly!” She slammed her laptop closed, tossed her books on the floor, and stood up. “I’m not like that, and if that’s what you’re looking for, then you have the wrong woman.”

I stood, careful to keep the table between us since I was back to my urges from this afternoon, wanting to shake or kiss some sense into her. “Leah, you kissed me. Right? I didn’t put a move on you, didn’t push you for more, didn’t strip you naked on that beach.”

“Exactly,” she muttered.

“What? For being the smartest person I know, you’re making zero sense.”

She rubbed her hands over her face, and I wanted to pull her hands away, to see those gorgeous, expressive eyes that never managed to hide whatever she was feeling no matter how hard she tried. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“For what?” I asked. This girl had me spinning circles and dodging landmines.

“For doing this to us,” she answered, her eyes wide and scared. “For ruining something that was so easy and so good by kissing you.”

“You’re sorry for kissing me?”

She tugged her lip between her teeth and nodded quickly. “I didn’t give you a choice, or a chance to think about what it could change between us.”

“It was a kiss, not a contract,” I said, trying to get a hint of where she was coming from. “Why do you think it changes things?”

“Because I took advantage of you,” she whispered.

Bullshit. I walked around the coffee table until we stood inches apart. “No. That’s not what happened on that beach.”

“It is. What were you supposed to do? When you didn’t kiss me back at first… God, I was mortified, and then when you did…” She sighed, looking anywhere but at me. “I’m your tutor, and I put you in a shitty position.”

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe I liked my position? That maybe I wanted to kiss you just as badly?”

She shook her head.

I tipped her chin so she’d meet my eyes. “There were cameras coming at us, and then my brother showed up. Trust me, if that moment had happened here, the outcome wouldn’t have left you wondering if I wanted to kiss you.”

“It was only a moment,” she whispered. “We can take it back.”

Not fucking happening. “Why would you want to?”

“Maybe we need to think about what we’re risking.”

I ordered my nerves to settle. She was skittish—one wrong move and I’d be back to square one, and now that I knew where I wanted to be…well, square one wasn’t it. “There’s no pressure. I’m not in a rush. If you need to think, that’s okay with me, but I already know what I want.”

“I need a minute,” she whispered, the plea desperate.

It went against every instinct I had, but I could do this.

“Okay,” I said, and backed away from her slowly. “This assignment isn’t due for a couple of days. Let’s pick this up tomorrow?”

“Paxton, I’m sorry,” she said, a slight note of panic slipping in.

I gave her my best smile. “I’m not. Not about any of it.”

Then I did something I’d never done—conceded the battle and walked away.

But the war would be worth it.