“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 me.

“Incredible,” I answered truthfully as Colin headed back toward us, aimed about ten feet to the right.

The boat pitched, and Paxton’s eyes widened with a fear I’d never seen. “Leah!” he shouted.

Colin’s bike flew my way.

Everything slowed.

Huh, where’s Colin?

The metal frame hurtled toward me, racing faster than I could move. This is going to hurt.

I accepted the impending injury the way I’d calmly accepted the foregone conclusion of my death that night. Some things were simply unavoidable.

Just before impact, my right side was shoved. Brooke.

She sent me skidding out of the path of the bike, my feet flying from under me.

“No!” Paxton’s voice sounded so far away.

I looked down as I fell, watched the wood of the ramp rushing up to meet me, morphing into the barren landscape of a California ravine.

It’s not real. It’s not real.

But it was all I saw—the burning, the blood…Brian.

Then I saw nothing.

Chapter Seven

Paxton

At Sea

“Leah!” Her name ripped from my throat, the sound almost inhuman, animalistic, as she fell. She’d gone limp before impact, the angle working in her favor as she slid to the bottom, but she wasn’t moving.

Just like he hadn’t.

I used the ramp as a slide, barely noticing the friction burns on my calves.

Skidding to a stop next to her, I gathered her limp body into my arms and pressed the side of her face to my heart, stroking her other cheek with my hand. She was cold, clammy, but her chest rose and fell, her pulse strong.

She was also unconscious.

I’d seen enough falls to know she hadn’t hurt her neck, and she still had her helmet on, so why wouldn’t she wake up?

“Is she okay?” Brooke asked next to me, her voice shaking.

“I don’t know,” I answered, my thumb stroking her cheekbone, then down her nose, over her lips. “Leah. Eleanor. You have to wake up. Show me those eyes, come on, baby.”

“Oh God. If she’s not okay… I’m so sorry, Pax,” Brooke babbled.

“Why won’t she wake up?” Panic like I’d never known tore through me. I’d fallen while mountain climbing, dangled over a sheer cliff face, snowboarded from a helicopter, but I’d never been this scared in my life. I unsnapped her helmet, in case the strap was putting pressure somewhere, and leaned down, pressing my forehead to hers. “Leah, please. Please.”

She gasped, the sound of air rushing past her lips breathing life into me, and I nearly crumbled with relief. “Leah?”

I pulled back enough to see her eyes flutter open, the whiskey color vague instead of bright, but she was here. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

“I’m not dead,” she whispered.

“No.” I shook my head, unable to stop the smile of relief from spreading across my face. “You’re not dead. You’re okay. I have you.”

“Paxton?” she asked, her voice soft, weak.

“Yeah?” I couldn’t stop my fingers from tracing the soft lines of her face, more than aware of how bad it could have been.

“I don’t do heights.”

I pulled her tight against me, tucking her into my neck, my shakes of laughter bordering on hysterical—bordering on uncontrolled.

“I’m so glad you woke up.” I was always in control, it was how I survived, how I thrived and excelled, but this girl—this woman—had the power to shred that control if I wasn’t careful.

“I heard you calling me.”

Then I lost it.

…

I jumped to my feet when Penna walked into their living room. “How is she?”

“Ready to sleep,” she answered, slumping onto the couch next to Brooke. “Doc gave her something to help her sleep, but she doesn’t have any major damage. Well, physically, at least. He said it was a panic attack.”

I don’t do heights.

“I’m so sorry,” Brooke said, her voice small.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I said to her. She’d already been through so much this last year. “I saw the angle; Colin’s bike would have hit her. It was a snap decision, and no one blames you.”

“She knows you were trying to help her,” Penna assured her, putting her arm around Brooke’s shoulder.

“Some help. Should I go apologize?”

“If you want to. She’s pretty out of it, but it might make you feel better.”

Brooke nodded slowly and stood. “Yeah. That sounds good. I’ll see you guys tomorrow?”

“Absolutely,” I said, forcing a smile. Brooke said her good-byes and headed back to Leah’s room as Landon came in through the sliding door.