I sat up. “I’m not drinking anything. It’ll come right back up.”
“Well, we’ve got to get some liquid into you, and this is better than nothing. Just give it a few minutes for the Psi bands to kick in.”
“How did you know I was sick?” I asked.
“You missed class this morning, and I knew you couldn’t be that desperate to avoid me,” he said with a tiny smile.
“I’m not avoiding you. You really came to check on me?” Okay, maybe that melted me just a little.
“Yeah, it’s what boyfriends do, right?” he asked with a tiny, really stupidly sexy smirk.
“You’re not my boyfriend.”
He shrugged. “I was always taught to dress for the job I want. I figure this is no different. I’m not opposed to wearing you down by sheer force of will.”
“As I recall, you always wanted to be Batman,” I teased, the nausea in my belly easing.
His eyes lit up. “Remember that, do you? Cool toys, code names, worldwide notoriety—I think I got as close as possible.”
“And so humble.”
“It’s all worth nothing if I can’t have the only thing I need.”
“And what’s that?” I asked, my chest tight for reasons that had nothing to do with being sick.
“You.”
The way he looked at me when he said it would have knocked me to the ground if I hadn’t been sitting. There was no flirtation in his eyes, no manipulation or charm—just honesty.
The ginger ale was sweet as it slid down my throat, and I realized the nausea really had subsided. It was there, but manageable. “I think I need a shower.”
“You do have puke in your hair,” he agreed.
I rolled my eyes. “Do I leave these things on?”
“If you’d like to shower without vomiting on your toes. Want some help in there?” He drew his tongue over his lower lip.
There was the charm.
“I just spent over twelve hours puking and you’re still trying to get into my pants?” I would have laughed if I didn’t still feel so weak.
“Hey, I’ll take you however I can get you.”
I shook my head and stood, still a little wobbly on my feet, and thrust out my hand when he tried to help. “No. I’m good. I’ve got this.”
Keeping my hand on the wall for balance, I made my way to the bathroom as swells kept the boat rocking. It probably wasn’t the best weather for me to be showering in, but there was zero chance I was going to sleep this off with puke in my hair. A girl had her standards, and puke was definitely crossing the line.
I washed as quickly as possible, and even though I felt better for being clean and puke-free, I was exhausted by the time I got out of the shower.
Wrapped in a fluffy blue towel, I tiptoed down the hallway to my room, figuring Landon was still here. Sure, I’d dropped towel to prove a point when I’d first gotten here, but I wasn’t ready for a repeat performance.
A pair of fuzzy pants and a tank top later, I found Landon leaning against the wall in the hallway, holding a rolled-up paper.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Get in bed and I’ll show you.”
“Where have I heard that one before?”
He laughed, and my heart skipped. “Come on. I’ll grab the ginger ale and some saltines and meet you in there.”
My eyes narrowed.
He stuck up two fingers. “Scout’s honor. I will do nothing of a sexual nature. Nada. Zilch.”
“Fine,” I answered, more than aware that he really was wearing my armor down to nonexistent. I climbed into bed and had the covers pulled over me by the time he walked in, balancing the glass of ginger ale, the paper, and a sleeve of saltines.
My stomach rumbled, and I took everything but the paper as he climbed into bed next to me, staying on top of the covers.
“I took notes for you this morning, and I figured I’d read to you so you’re caught up for tomorrow,” he said as he unrolled the paper.
“You’re going to read me my homework?” I repeated, not sure I’d heard correctly.
“I am.”
I raised both my eyebrows at him.
“What? I’m just showing off my boyfriend moves.”
“Landon, we’re not—”
“Yeah, yeah.” He waved me off. “I know. Now, don’t you want to hear all about the Korowai? They live in badass houses in the trees.”
I guess if I had to spend a day in bed with Landon, reading to me was the least harmful thing he could be doing. Turning on my side, I let myself watch him, since his eyes were glued to the printed article. His voice was low and soothing, and I couldn’t look away from the movement of his lips, the way his tongue would run across the lower one when he flipped the page.
When he finished with the Korowai tribes, he moved on to the Dani and the Lani, and I couldn’t remember a time I’d loved listening to an article more. At one point he began stroking my hair with his free hand, and I leaned into his touch, too tired to do much else.
By the time he’d finished, my nausea was gone, thanks to the magic bands he’d brought me. He stared vacantly for a moment, the paper forgotten in his lap.
“Where are you?” I asked.
His hand paused on my head. “Wondering how Gabe is.”
“Understandable.” At least Little John was with him, and his parents had flown in. It had killed Landon to leave him there, but if Pax had missed the boat, he would have been kicked out of the program. They had a one-and-done policy around here, and he’d used his get-out-of-jail-free card a couple months ago when he’d been left behind with Leah in Istanbul.
“Is it?” he asked, still staring at the wall. “Because while one part of me is praying that he’s okay, the other part is wondering when I can get back up there. Trying to work out in my mind if I have the time to acclimatize and still get it into the documentary.”
I tensed as a cold fear ran chills down my spine. But as much as Landon had changed over these last couple of years, I knew that underneath it all, he hadn’t. “You can’t stand thinking you failed.”
“I did fail, and not just me. I failed Gabe by choosing the chute with the biggest risk. He trusted me, and I got him hospitalized. I failed Nick, too. We needed that stunt for the documentary. He needs it.”
“Mother Nature took your chance,” I argued. “That fresh snow on top of the ice…it was a recipe for disaster, and you can’t feel guilty about that.”
“I should have known. I should have chosen the lesser chute—the one Alex took. I never should have pushed the summit.”
“That’s who you are,” I said. “You would have seen anything less than the summit as failure.”
“Yeah, well, my ego cost Gabe months of recovery. It almost cost us our lives.”
“No. Your way of life did that. You both chose it. You weren’t up there dragging him around—he went of his own free will. You’re not to blame.”
He shook his head slowly, letting his breath out at the same pace. “I don’t know. Maybe if I’d chosen a lesser chute. If we’d gotten there two days earlier—”
“Maybe if I hadn’t been with you,” I said softly.
He slid until he was lying across from me, his head propped on his arm to mirror mine. “What do you mean by that?”
“You haven’t once thought about it?” I asked. “You haven’t once had the curse cross your mind.”