Wilder (The Renegades) by Rebecca Yarros Page B

before he snapped it under my chin. “This is just in case. I’m not forcing you into anything, but sometimes bikes or boards go flying up here. I want to protect that beautiful brain of yours so you can get me through this term, okay?”
    “Fine,” I answered, letting a smile slip. “Go do whatever it is you do. I’m giving you ten minutes before I haul you to my room.”
    One of the crew whistled. “To study!” I yelled out in correction. “Taking him to my room to study! For the love—!” Why did everything have a double meaning around here?
    Paxton’s laugh anchored my heart to my dipping stomach as he jumped onto his bike and took off down the pipe. He began his series of turns and dips, keeping clear of the section where I stood with Brooke next to me.
    Up close, it felt more like art than sport, the way he moved, flying then falling, over and over again in a rhythm he created. He fell too often for my peace of mind, each time climbing up to the pipe to talk with Landon and then hitting the ramp again. He was 100 percent focused, never once looking my way or checking the cameras. It was as if nothing existed outside the bike, the ramp, and his own abilities.
    The longer I watched him, the more I realized it was the same for me, holding my breath when he did a trick, releasing only when I saw him land it. My hands tightened when he gripped the handlebars of his spinning bike, my heart caught the higher he took to the air. Just as his world had narrowed to training, mine had narrowed to him.
    “Amazing, isn’t it?” Brooke asked.
    “Incredible.”
    “I’ve been watching them since we were kids, always amazed that they could all do these things, like gravity is some kind of game to them.”
    “You never wanted to try?”
    She scoffed. “Oh, no. Penna’s the rebel in the family. The things she can do…well, that’s not me. I don’t mind the tamer stuff—skiing, snowboarding, motorcycles—but the minute they take to the air, my butt usually hits the bench. I realized a long time ago that there’s a difference between admiring insanity and actually being a part of it.”
    “Agreed.” Paxton did another trick where he flipped around, and my breath froze in my chest until he landed…backward. Show-off . “I get it now,” I said quietly. “Why all the girls chase him. That kind of intensity is captivating.” Even the thought of him applying that same focus, drive, and passion to sex was enough to send a flash of pure want through me.
    I shifted my weight, inconveniently aware that I was a little more than turned on.
    What would it be like to have his complete attention on me?
    You’ll never know.
    Paxton came to a stop on the other side of the ramp and pulled off his helmet. “It’s still not right,” he called over to me.
    “You’re amazing,” I said, my mouth going dry as he wiped the sweat with his shirt. This time I didn’t look away from the carved lines of his stomach, the muscles that roped around his body. What the hell? Did the guy do sit-ups in his sleep or something? How was that kind of body even possible?
    “Oh good, Colin is up,” Brooke said, coming to attention next to me. “Have you seen him? He’s gorgeous. If you’re looking for a little ship-fling, I can totally hook you up there.”
    “I haven’t met him yet.” Plus, if I was looking for a ship-fling, I had a feeling it wouldn’t be Colin. Was I even capable of a fling? Or ready for any kind of relationship? Man, I was picking at scabs left and right today.
    A guy hauled a bike up next to where Paxton stood, and they talked for a moment before Paxton gave him the go-ahead, motioning to the ramp. Colin strapped the helmet over his curly brown hair and mounted his bike.
    The guy was good, I’d give him that, but not as good as Paxton. The bike turned and flipped at his direction, skimming along the pipe’s edge just to slide back down.
    “What do you think, Firecracker?” Paxton called over to