“Who is she?” Zoe asked, ignoring my compliment. “What kind of girl does it take to knock Landon Rhodes—the famous Nova—on his ass? Don’t think that I haven’t noticed that parade of girls in and out of your room has been on pause the last week or so.”

“Don’t do this.”

“Who is she? At least tell me that much.”

“Her name is Rachel—”

She sputtered. “Rachel? As in ‘curse’ Rachel? You can’t be serious.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Of course she’d heard about the curse. Hell, I’d just gotten back on top of my game when Zoe’d joined the Renegades. “Rachel’s not a curse. She’s…” How could I find the words to explain?

“Wow.” She dragged the word out. “Does she know about your habits? Because she really should know what she’s getting into.”

I folded my arms in front of my chest, every sense on high alert. “Stop. Now. I know how much shit you gave Leah, and”—I tilted my head in thought—“well, she dished it back to you pretty well. But you tried to scare her off. You made her life hell because she dared to fall for Wilder.”

“So?” Her forehead puckered, but the shame in her eyes didn’t match her sharp tone. “Are you getting all protective?”

“I don’t need to protect Rachel, which is something I’ve always loved about her. Leah is one thing. Rachel won’t just dish your shit back at you—she’ll chew you up and spit you out. Trust me, her teeth are razor sharp.”

“So you’re going to let this girl back in? Even after she almost ripped the Renegades apart? I know the stories—how she seduced both of you and then fucked your head when she left.”

I sucked in a breath and let it out slowly while I counted to ten. “She didn’t do anything. I was the one who went after her. I was the one who fell in love with her. Yes, we betrayed Wilder, but I was the one who begged her to stay quiet, not to hurt him, and I was the one stupid enough to leave her for the Renegades when I could have had…” I shook my head, unable to finish the sentence.

“You loved her,” she whispered.

“Yes.”

Guilt crept in, the taste sour. I’d never promised Zoe anything, but I never should have let it go on for this long. I should have realized she was getting attached. I should have cut it off a long time ago. Should have, could have, would have. All bullshit.

“Why?” she demanded, her eyes hardening.

“Because she exists, and it was impossible not to. There’s no other way to explain it.”

She looked away, toward where the water swirled behind the boat.

I put my hands on her bare shoulders and locked eyes with her. “Zoe, don’t do this. You’ve been with us for a year now. You’ve earned your place through stunts and ability. You’re worth a hell of a lot more than what you think of yourself. Go tell Wilder that you want your own hang glider. Show him your practice times from before we left. You’ve got this.”

“You really think so?” she asked, her voice uncharacteristically small.

“I do.”

She didn’t say good-bye, just gave me a small smile and a nod, and walked away. God, I wished the woman I wanted was as easy to get through to as Zoe was.

No, you don’t. Then she wouldn’t be Rachel.

Speaking of Rachel… I took a deep breath and knocked twice before sliding the back door to her suite open.

“She’s going to kill you if she sees you in here,” Penna said, not looking up from her book.

“Throw me a fucking bone here, Penna. I can’t get a word in with the girl. She’s purposely torturing me.”

“Yeah, well, she has every right to.”

“Wait. Since when did you switch sides?” I asked, glancing around the suite. Where the hell was Rachel?

“I have no side. As I told Rachel, I’m Switzerland.” She flipped a page. “But I will say that I’m a Renegade first and foremost, and I love you like a brother, but what you did to that girl deserves a good torture.”

“Team Rachel,” I muttered.

“Team Justice,” she said, raising a fist. I sighed. It was the same move she’d pulled when she’d backed Leah in the Paxton-dating-his-tutor debate. “And seriously, if this is only about the sex, you know you could nail just about any other girl on this ship. Leave this one in peace.”

I turned my baseball hat backward, tucked my thumbs in my pockets, and rocked back on my heels. “It’s not about the sex. The way I loved her…that was beyond anything I’d ever known…or known since. I buried it, moved on with whoever was willing, but I see her and those feelings come rushing back to the surface like we broke up two weeks ago instead of two and a half years ago.”

“Right, but those two years…they changed her. She’s not the same as she was.”

I understood that. “Neither am I.”

“She thinks she’s bad luck. She joked about it, the curse of Rachel, but I could tell that she believes it somewhere deep down.”

“She’s not bad luck. That curse thing was a bunch of bullshit to excuse my shittiness.”

“Well, you might want to explain that to her as you’re begging,” she suggested.

“Where is she?”

“In the shower.”

My eyebrows shot skyward. “Perfect.”