I turned so fast I nearly smacked into the wall…again.
She stood there, a white towel wrapped around her, and it was somehow sexier than when she’d challenged me with her nudity. The swells of her breasts rose above her crossed arms, and even without makeup, her face was startlingly beautiful. God, I’d missed her eyes—missed everything. The years I’d missed had taken her teen beauty and turned her into a magnificent woman. I tucked my thumbs into my pockets again to keep me from foolishly reaching for her as our eyes locked. That connection between us that a twenty-year-old kid hadn’t understood was still there, and now I knew what chemistry was—and how rare the intensity of ours was. “Rachel?”
“I’ll do it,” she said, brushing a strand of wet purple hair from her eyes and tucking it behind a delicate ear. It had always astonished me how such a fierce attitude could be contained in such a petite package. If her body matched her personality, she would have towered over me in height.
“You will?”
“I just said I would.”
“Right.” Where the hell was my game? My smooth lines? My ability to charm the panties off any girl?
She’s already not wearing them…
“One thing, though. We’ll talk in Sri Lanka. I worked really hard to put you behind me, and I’d like a couple days before you go and rip me apart again.”
“God, Rach—”
She shook her head. “No. Not yet. There. We’re stuck together all day anyway.”
I nodded. “Okay. Sri Lanka it is.”
She turned to go back into her room but paused just before she entered. “One more thing.”
“Anything,” I promised. The girl could have my balls in a vise if she wanted them. Hell, they were pretty much there anyway.
“If I’m signing that media release, I want my own hang glider.”
A slow smile spread across my face. “Of course you do. When’s the last time you were up?”
Her eyes narrowed. “About six months ago. And I bet I’m still better than you are.”
Without another word, she shut the door. I’d never been so happy to get so little out of someone.
I couldn’t hide my smile as I walked out past Penna. “Thank you for the idea.”
She glanced up then back down at her book. “No problem. And funny, I thought you said it wasn’t sexual?”
“What?”
She pointed at my shorts without looking up.
Fuck. I was sporting a hard-on that could have knocked on Rachel’s door itself. “It’s not only sexual,” I said, covering myself with a pillow so I could get back to my room without getting shit from half the Renegade crew or the cameras in our suite.
“I would hope so. Plenty of girls have had your only sexual lately, and if I were you, I’d make sure that shit ended before you even tried to get back with Rachel.”
“Who said I’m getting back—?”
Penna’s look silenced me. Having lifelong best friends was annoying as hell sometimes.
“Okay, you’re right, but FYI, I haven’t fucked anyone since she crashed back into my life.”
“Too much info,” Penna said, gagging. “Now go before she sees me conspiring with the enemy.”
“I thought you said you were Switzerland?”
“Just because they stay neutral doesn’t mean they don’t have an opinion.”
“Traitor,” I teased.
“Out,” she said, pointing to the door.
Hard-on happily suppressed, I tossed the pillow onto the couch and left. I had two days to figure out what the hell I could say to Rachel to make her understand what had been the hardest choice of my life if I wanted a chance at having any kind of relationship—friendship or otherwise—with the only woman I’d ever loved.
No pressure or anything.
Chapter Eight
Rachel
Sri Lanka
Was it possible to instantly fall in love with a place? It had taken a two-hour bus ride to get to Gal Viharaya, and even though I’d been aware of Landon watching me from a few rows behind, I couldn’t tear my eyes from the countryside. It was lush, green, and, I kid you not, there had been elephants wandering through the streets a while back.
We made our way as a class up the ruins of the Buddhist temple and listened to our teacher explain the details of the weathered structure. Every time I glanced at Landon, I found him watching me, and I ripped my eyes away.
It was like we were sneaking around again, scared that our glances would give us away.
His baseball hat was missing today, his hair in a sexy disarray that my fingers itched to run through. Those hazel eyes pierced straight through me as he headed in my direction once our professor was done and we were dismissed.
He held out his hand, and I glanced at it briefly before looking back up at him.
“Here?” I asked, knowing my stay of execution was over. As much as I’d blocked off my heart, my head, everything that had to do with him, I was about to have to listen to him make stupid fucking excuses for shredding me.
“Maybe somewhere a little more private?” he asked, motioning to a side of the ruins currently unoccupied by our class.
He checked back at least five times to make sure I was following him as we crossed the small distance, passing a giant Buddha, who looked so peaceful. I envied him that.
“Okay,” Landon said and took a deep breath. His mouth opened and closed a couple times while we stood there, eyes locked. “God, I had this all planned out, and now it’s all just…gone. I’d almost forgotten the effect you have on me.”
“Had,” I corrected, wrapping my arms around my stomach. “Everything about us is past tense.”
“I know I hurt you,” he said softly.
“You did,” I agreed, trying to block out the imagery those words brought up—the tears, the devastation, the groveling to get some semblance of my life back.
He rested his hands on top of his head, the tattoos on his arms rippling with the motion. For a brief moment I wondered if he still had it, the one token we’d given each other…the one I’d immediately altered. “I don’t think there’s anything I can say to take back what happened with us.”
“There’s not.” That sounded strong. Good. Keep it up.
“For fuck’s sake, Rachel. Could you make this just a little easier? I’ve been trying for a week to get you alone—to get you to listen to me.”
“Why?” I asked. That familiar ache rose, a burning acid in my throat—the hurt I’d worked to lock away. Why couldn’t he just leave me alone? Why did he have to chip away at the wall I’d struggled to build? Couldn’t he see how hard this was for me?
“Because I want you to understand,” he pleaded.
“Why is it so important to you? It’s been years. Years, and you never once tried to contact me to explain. Hell, I’m only here now because Wilder arranged it—not because you had some crisis of conscience or change of heart.” Because if he’d come back once—hell, even called or sent a freaking carrier pigeon—I would have melted. But there was zero chance in hell I was going to give him some kind of convenient absolution just because he didn’t want things to be awkward.