She could try to ignore me all she wanted, but somewhere under all that hatred and ice, she was still my Rachel—the same girl who’d snowboarded by my side, planned stunts, and pulled a couple of her own. The same girl I’d given up everything for…only to fuck it all up a few weeks later. But she was still under there. I’d seen it at lunch yesterday, and again today.

I just had to find a way to break through to her.

Chapter Six

Rachel

At Sea

I tapped my pencil on the desk and looked out over the Laccadive Sea as students filtered into the classroom. The floor-to-ceiling windows were incredible. The whole ship, the experience, was phenomenal.

Except for the six-foot-four Adonis who’d just walked into my classroom. Of course he had a blonde batting her eyelashes up at him as he shut the door on the cameraman who had almost followed him in.

I’d nearly made an utter asshat of myself this morning when he landed on the back deck. For that moment, he’d been Landon and we’d been us, and it had all seemed so easy to slip back into that routine. Good thing the leggy brunette latched onto him and broke whatever spell I’d been under.

He had a kind of magnetism that changed the entire atmosphere around him, and I was drawn to him just like before, no different than every other girl on this damn ship. The chemistry between us I could handle, but these memories sucked. I jerked my eyes away from him, but not before I noticed how perfectly his shirt draped over his frame, or the way his cargo shorts hung on his ass. Ugh. How had he managed to get hotter in the last couple of years? He’d lost every trace of the boy he’d been, and all that was left was ridiculously handsome, hard, chiseled man.

“Hi, Nova. Nice stunt today,” the girl behind me said with a soft sigh.

Help me, dear sweet Lord.

He gave her a tight smile but bent in front of my desk. “Rachel.”

I met those hazel eyes and simply arched one of my eyebrows as my heart accelerated to a gallop. I was not talking to him, not opening any form of dialogue that would make a single part of me vulnerable to him. Hell no, you didn’t let the arsonist play with matches.

“Come on,” he begged softly.

It felt like ripping off a Band-Aid slowly, but I managed to look away. I was here to learn, not to deal with Landon.

He sighed, and I nearly cheered in victory when he stood, but then he took the desk next to mine and sat down. Seriously? The guy hadn’t come near me in years and now he had to sit right next to me?

Then he popped the top on a Red Bull and I almost laughed. At least it wasn’t a Gremlin. Watching him suck down one of the energy drinks made by the company my dad worked for would have been too ironic—even if it was the reason we originally met.

“It’s not going to work,” he said, turning in his seat to face me.

I kept my eyes on the professor, who was walking toward the podium.

“I get that you’re still trying to ignore me. It’s okay, I get it. I fucked up in more ways than I can possibly explain. But I don’t need you to talk to me. I just need you to listen.”

My entire body tensed. Was he saying he was sorry?

Don’t fall for his shit again. You’re not that stupid.

Rubbing the wrist I’d broken years ago, I sagged in my chair with relief when the professor started talking.

“Good morning, class,” the red-haired woman said. She looked to be in her midthirties and wore a stylish safari dress and cute wedges. “Welcome back to Cultures of the Pacific 310. I hope you enjoyed your brief break. This is your reminder to check your syllabus for due dates and pay particular attention to when your research paper is due. It’s on a topic of your choice, but it must be approved by me.”

I opened my notebook and then cursed under my breath. I’d forgotten my pen. Nothing like being unprepared.

“What’s wrong?” Hugo asked, leaning over slightly from my other side.

“I forgot my pen,” I whispered.

“No problem,” he answered quickly, reaching into his binder. I’d only known him a week, but I was immensely thankful for him. Being Leah’s butler the last three months as part of his work-study, he’d taken care of my best friend when I couldn’t. He handed me a pencil with a quick smile.

“Thank you,” I said as a pen landed on my desk.

“You hate pencils,” Landon whispered.

Every muscle in my body locked as my eyes fixated on the blue Bic. How did he remember that?

“You can ignore the pen all you want, but then you’ll just get those giant gray marks along your hand that drive you nuts, and your notes will smudge. Your choice.”

God, he didn’t just remember that I hated pencils, he remembered why.

“It’s just a pen, Rach. Not a contract.”

Like the one you left me holding when I signed that lease.

I debated shunning the damned pen for all of thirty seconds, but when argued against having smudged notes that I wouldn’t be able to read, I gave Hugo back his pencil and picked up the pen.

I focused all of my attention on what Dr. Messina said, taking copious notes, but I felt each and every time Landon’s gaze shifted toward me. There was still a palpable connection between us, as if my body remembered his significance, or maybe just what he was capable of doing with it. Ignoring him had to be like when I’d given up processed sugar.

That first day had been torture. That first week? Agony.

But then I got used to it being gone until I’d learned not to miss it.