Jakarta
“I don’t understand why it took you this long, or why I had to call you,” Mom said, her blue eyes wide with hurt.
For that moment, I wished our connection was a little shittier.
“Mom, I told you. We only have good internet in port, and I’ve been a little busy. Our port days are our busiest because we have shore excursions, and I still have to study and stuff.” I tried my best to appease her.
She sighed, her shoulders brushing her dark brown hair that was streaked with silver. “I just worry.”
“I know,” I said softly. “But I’m okay. I’m better than okay. I’ve already done so many amazing things.”
Her eyes lit up as I told her about the safer things: the hang gliding in Sri Lanka, the elephants I’d seen there, the majesty of the Taj Mahal, and the trek through Nepal.
Her eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t realize you were going into Nepal.”
“It was a last-minute trip I couldn’t say no to. Seriously, Mom, I can’t believe half the things I’m seeing. In a couple of days we’re headed to see a tribe in New Guinea.”
She smiled. “It all sounds amazing.”
“It really is.” In that moment, I wished my heart could reach through the screen. She was always overprotective—they both were—but I knew how hard it had been for them to adopt me, how tedious the process had been, and how badly they’d wanted a child of their own.
Of course she was going to worry.
“How is Leah?”
“She’s…” In love with someone you despise. “She’s great.”
“Well, she looked great when she popped in. Who was the blonde who answered?”
“Penna. She’s my roommate, too.”
“Oh, I thought it was just you and Leah…” The door opened behind her, and she clapped her hands. “Stan! Look who’s online.”
At least that saved me from telling her that Leah had moved in with Pax. I wasn’t sure what she’d hate more—the implication of premarital sex or that I was on a ship with Wilder.
My father dropped his briefcase in the hall and ran over to the computer, hunching down next to Mom. “There’s my girl! How are you, sweet pea?”
“I’m good,” I promised. “How is everything there?”
They didn’t even look at each other, which struck me as odd.
“Good,” Dad answered.
“Fine,” Mom added in.
“Uh, okay,” I said, my eyes narrowing as I leaned my elbows on our dining room table. “Did something happen?”
“No, not at all,” Dad promised, loosening his tie. “We just miss you. When do you get home for Christmas?”
“I fly in the fifteenth, and then I have about two weeks.”
“Good. We can’t wait to see you,” Mom said.
“Oh, I need a favor, if you guys get a second?”
“Absolutely, what’s up?” Dad asked.
“Will you peek through my records? I’m looking for my adoption stuff for a class paper.”
He stiffened, and Mom’s eyes widened. “Why would you want those? What kind of class paper is this?” Mom asked.
I took a deep breath and kept my voice off the defensive. My adoption was such a sore spot for them, like they were ashamed that they couldn’t conceive on their own—ashamed that they’d needed a baby to solve the problems in their marriage back then.
Maybe they didn’t realize I knew that, but my aunts had big mouths.
But hey, they were still together, so I guess I did my job well.
“I’m taking this Cultures of the Pacific class, and we’re doing research papers. I want to do mine on adoptions in Korea. I figured since that’s the country with the second highest number of adoptions, it would be good.”
“Why not do China?” Mom asked.
I blinked. “Because I wasn’t adopted from China.”
“Right. Of course,” Dad said. “The papers should be filed in storage. We haven’t had them out since the year of your adoption. I’ll dig around.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I said, my heart panging with missing them. I loved being here and would never second-guess that choice, but I missed my parents, too. It was one thing to be across the country from them and another to be across the world.
“No problem,” he said as the sliding glass door opened behind me.
“Hey, is Leah in here?” Pax asked. “Oh, you’re—”
I cringed. “Talking to my parents.”
He nodded slowly, and then gave them the wave, clearly in their line of sight. “Mr. Dawson. Mrs. Dawson,” he said with a tight smile. “I’ll…uh…just look for her somewhere else. Anywhere else.”
I rubbed my forehead. “I think she said she was going up top with Penna to watch the departure.”
“Yeah. Okay. Thanks. You good?” Wilder asked, knowing the shit was about to hit the fan.
“Yep,” I answered, offering him a smile.
“I’ll make sure you have some privacy…” he said, backing out of the door and shutting it.
“Rachel Christine Dawson,” my mother snapped.
“Mom.” I turned in my chair with a false smile. “What’s up?”
“Who was that?”
“Leah’s boyfriend,” I said, hoping they hadn’t seen him clearly.
“That was Paxton Wilder,” Dad said. “Damn it. I knew they were off making a documentary, but I didn’t realize it was on your ship.”
“It is on our ship, and he’s dating Leah.”
“After what happened with you?” Mom exclaimed.
“Mom, I hurt Wilder, not the other way around. They’re really good together, and she’s happy. It’s not complicating things at all. They were together before I even got here.”
“And what about the other one?” Dad growled.
I swallowed. “Landon is here, too.”
Mom’s indrawn breath was the shot heard around the world.
“He’d better not come near you,” Dad hissed.
Too late.
“Landon is fine. Don’t worry about me. A lot has changed in the last two years.”
“That boy wrecked you!” Dad was turning a mottled shade of red, something that only arguing over Landon had ever accomplished.
“And I rebuilt. Dad, I know you’re worried, but I’m fine. Landon is…” I sighed.
Dad cursed.
“I’m fine,” I promised. “He’s not getting in the way of my academics, and everything is fine. Sure, it was awkward at first”—like when he stole my clothes out of the bathroom—“but we’re both older now, more mature. Less likely to pull stupid stunts.”
“Like leaving you high and dry and breaking your heart?” Dad asked.
“Yeah, like that,” I said weakly, mostly because I didn’t know. Like Skype had a sense of mercy, I got the poor-signal warning as we pulled out of port. “Look, we’re about to lose signal. We’ll be in New Guinea in a couple days and I’ll try to call again, okay?”
Mom nodded, her face tight. “Just…just be careful, Rachel. You only have one heart.”
And Landon already owns it.
“I know, Mom. I love you guys, and I’ll see you soon, okay?”
Our good-byes were tense but over quickly, and my shoulders sagged in relief as I closed my laptop.
Dad’s job—handling sponsorships at Gremlin—had made it possible for him to make the Renegades’ life way more than difficult after Landon left me, but he’d taken the high road and let them keep their funding. Besides, this trip was fully sponsored by Wilder Enterprises, so it wasn’t like he could hurt them.
I scoffed and rested my head in my hands. A few weeks around Landon and I was already defending him to Dad, who had basically fixed my life when Landon had walked away.
The two sides of me warred, my heart telling me that Landon was the only one I could ever willingly give it to, and my brain warning that there was too much pain in our past for us to ever really work.
I told them both to shut up and concentrated on my stomach. It wanted ice cream, which was the safest of all the options.
…
“Now this is really quite a privilege,” Dr. Messina told us as we lined up against the back of a dark hut in the middle of Papua New Guinea three days later. “This isn’t something average tourists see, so be quiet, be invisible, and be respectful.”
“She sounds like my mother,” Hugo said from next to me.
I smothered a laugh.
Landon rubbed against my right shoulder, no doubt to remind me that he was here. Not that I needed any reminding. He was everywhere—class, Renegade stuff, my suite. Trying to give myself a little space was nearly impossible.
“You’ve been quiet all day. For the last couple days, really,” Landon noted quietly as Dr. Messina walked away.
“I’m speaking to you,” I said without looking up at him.
“If you had tried to get any farther away, you would have had to go to the moon,” he responded.
I shrugged. “I’m fine.” My parents just served me up a hot reminder of what you cost me the first time, and I’m wondering if I’ve lost my mind. Like I was ever going to say that to him.
“You’re not fine. I’m not sure if it was the kiss or talking to your mother—”
“Shh!” I hissed. “That’s not something we’re talking about in…you know…public,” I said, pointing to the camera that had surprisingly been let in.
“Well, if you’d talk to me alone, I wouldn’t have to try in public.”
I finally looked over at where he sat next to me, his elbows casually braced on his knees. The small fire in the middle of the hut threw shadows across his face. He was hot as hell, like bottled sex, and I was the one with the cap.
“I’m not avoiding you or anything.”
“Going to class, minimal conversations revolving around only stunts and homework, and showing up for the excursion doesn’t count. Your mom spooked you,” he guessed.
“My dad made some memorable comments,” I answered. “They didn’t change anything, I just…needed a few minutes.”
“You had a few days,” he retorted. “I’m not in a rush. I’ll wait forever for you to figure out that I’m in this, but I’d rather you come to me when you’re spooked. I can’t stop that little mental fight you’re already in with me if I don’t know it’s going on—if you can’t let me in your head.”
He was completely right. It chafed me to admit it, but he really was. “Okay. You’re right.”
His mouth dropped open.
“What?” I asked.
“I’m just watching hell freeze over.”
“Shut up,” I said, leaning into him. “Talking to my parents was hard. They put me back together when you…” I trailed off. It wasn’t fair to keep shoving our past at him. If I was going to actually be with him, then I couldn’t drag him through that mud over and over.
“When I left you,” he finished. “Look, I fucked that up. It changed us both, and we have to be able to talk about it. Your parents rightfully hate me because they saw the aftermath. If I saw that, I’m sure I’d hate myself a hell of a lot more than I already do.”
I blinked at him, trying to organize my thoughts. “In a million years, I never imagined you saying that. You hate my dad.”
“I hate that he hated me, and then I went and gave him a damn good reason to.” He shrugged. “When we get back to L.A., I’m going to grovel, and I’m really not looking forward to it, but I’m honestly just hoping that I’ve at least won you over by that point—”
“What?” I asked a little too loudly. Dr. Messina shushed me from her seat across the hut.
“—because I can’t fight a war on two fronts. What do you mean, what?”
“When we get back to L.A.?” I asked. “You mean…you’ve thought about that?” About what would happen once you actually caught me.
“Well, yeah. We’re not going to be on this ship forever, right? Unless you have some lifelong plans that I’m not aware of?”
He’d thought about more than the chase, the pursuit. He’d looked ahead to when real life was going to hit us again. God, I hated the damn cameras, because I wanted to kiss him, to show him what I couldn’t find the words to say. Instead I leaned my forehead against his shoulder and breathed in, knowing he’d just knocked loose one of the last bricks in my defense against him.
He pressed his lips to my hair and rested there for a second.
It wasn’t enough for a moment like this, and yet it meant everything.
I don’t know how long we sat there, but the next thing I heard were the chants of the incoming Dani men. As they entered the hut, in ceremonial clothing and faces painted with bright colors, I lifted my head and reveled in the beauty of a different culture.
“Amazing to think they’ve never met before,” Landon whispered as the women entered, their faces painted with the same bright colors. I knew from class that they only married outside their own villages, but that both parties had to consent before the matchmaker would agree to their union.
I looped my arm through Landon’s and drew my knees tighter to my chest to give the men room to circulate. They chanted and sang what I knew were tribal songs about marriage, rotating between the women in their official ritual of courtship. Around and around they moved, the excitement palpable in the air as one by one, they sat next to the woman they intended to court.
“Imagine that,” I whispered. “No dating, just finding your person and saying yes to the rest of your life.”
Finally they were all seated, cross-legged, hands intertwined as they sang.
“That’s a huge decision for a split-second meeting,” he noted.
“Not as much for the men,” I added. “They can take more than one wife, but the women can’t.” I looked over and watched him as he studied the ceremony. “Would you want that? More than one wife?”
He looked down at me, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I can barely keep up trying to chase you. So that’s a no.”
Softly laughing, I looked back to the men and women who sat next to the person they would marry. The hope in their eyes was enough to overflow into me.
“But I would have sat next to you,” Landon whispered into my ear. “I would have fought off any man who thought he was a better fit and paid whatever price your father demanded, and then some.”
Chills raced over my skin, prickling and warming me all in the same breath.
“No price would have been high enough, no challenge big enough. But I would have won.”
“So sure of yourself?” I asked, just loud enough for him to hear me over the singing.
“Yeah. I am. Because I know you would have fought for me, too.”
My chest filled with the sweetest pressure, and I pushed it down, knowing exactly where it led—knowing that I wasn’t ready. “In an alternate timeline,” I said, remembering our earlier conversation.
He tipped my chin up but didn’t kiss me, simply looked deeply into my eyes until I was sure that I would melt into his. “In every timeline.”
I looked away when I couldn’t take it anymore, when the force of our connection threatened to override my common sense.
His words stayed with me long after the ceremony, and I couldn’t help but realize that we’d sat there in the same position as the newly intendeds—arms intertwined, ankles crossed.
In every timeline, indeed.
“It’s like you’re twelve and back at Camp Sunnyville,” I muttered to myself as I walked down the path of bungalows our class had taken over for the night. Of course Camp Sunnyville hadn’t been in the middle of a rain forest or had its accompanying humidity.
Between the ceremony and the hike back to our residence, it had to be at least midnight. If we were in the States, I would have texted Landon. Or Facebooked him. Hell, Twitter might have been an option.
The minute my temporary roommate’s boyfriend showed up in our little thatched cabin, I got the hell out of there. No chance I wanted to hear whatever was going to happen on the other side of our room.
I wasn’t even that close with Leah, nor did I ever want to be.
With the full moon above me, all the bungalows looked the same. Crap. Which one was he in?
“Rachel?”
I spun in the darkness toward Hugo’s figure. “Hey. What are you doing out here?”
“I could ask you the same.” He laughed.
“I’m looking for Landon’s room. My roommate needed to put a sock on the door handle.”
“Ah,” he said with a deep head nod. “I understand. I’d say that you’re welcome to come back to my room, but I have a feeling you’re not just looking for an escape.”
“Yeah…” I sighed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. You two have some weird magnetic pull that I’m not stupid enough to get between. I have a feeling whoever does gets crushed.”
Like Wilder.
“Yeah, we’re…us,” I said, failing to find a better word.
He laughed. “You and Leah and those Renegades. I think he’s in the last one on the right. I remember him being alone, too.”
“Thank you!”
“Want me to walk you down?”
“No worries, but thank you for offering.”
“Okay, but I’ll wait here until you get inside.”
With a wave, I was off. I tightened my hands on the straps of my day pack and walked the distance to Landon’s bungalow.
As I walked up the steps, I turned to see Hugo watching, and I waved in thanks.
A soft light shone from under the door, and I paused, my hand raised to knock. What was I doing here? Other than avoiding the sexcapade in my own room? Maybe I was looking for the same thing. I rested my forehead against the smooth wood of the doorframe and took a deep breath.
I’d already let him get so close. Despite my best intentions, he was right there, close enough to my heart to break it again, and I was a breath away from surrendering everything to him. But Landon had always been about the chase, and that’s still where we were—he was still chasing me. What happened if he caught me?
You won’t be so bright and shiny, and he’ll move on.
The thought rocked me, because the more time I spent with him, the more I knew I didn’t want him to move on.
But how much worse would it be in a few weeks? Months? Wasn’t it better to get the breaking done now, when I was only losing the possibility of Landon?
Oh my God, how long was I going to stand out here debating?
Don’t be a chicken.
I knocked.
“Come in,” Landon called out, and I sighed in relief. At least I wasn’t knocking on some stranger’s door in the middle of the night. Even worse, it could have been Dr. Messina.
I opened the door and found him lounged on his double bed, mouthwateringly shirtless with a book perched in his hands.
“Rachel?” He sat up fully, putting the book down next to him.
“What are you reading?” I asked.
“A Moveable Feast,” he answered. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. My roommate is currently getting some, which isn’t anything I wanted to be around for, and it was either Hugo’s room or yours. I chose yours.”
“Good choice,” he said.
“So, Hemingway? Is that on your reading list for Lit?” I dropped my bag and sat on the corner of the bed, since there was nowhere else to sit.
“No,” he answered.
That simple word told me that part of him—the book lover—hadn’t faded in time. “How is it?”
“Good,” he answered. “Kind of makes me feel a little like a voyeur, though.”
“Because he never meant to publish it?” I asked.
Landon smiled. “Ah, the journalism major knows her Hemingway.”
I shrugged.
“God, I’ve missed you.”
My eyes shot to his, and I held them there, refusing to look at the yards of inked skin that he had on display. One look at those swirls of color and I’d ache to trace them with my fingers—my tongue.
“I have,” he reiterated. “Not just the sex—though it’s the best I’ve ever had—just being around you. Not feeling the pressure to live up to some hype.”
“You weren’t as big of a deal when we first met,” I reminded him.
He didn’t deny his current status or feign being humble. “I’d trade it all,” he said, ripping his hand over his hair with a self-deprecating laugh. “God, Rach. Looking back, I would trade everything to have you in that apartment. I know I don’t get to complain, not after what I did, but it’s been so empty. Nothing filled the void you left. No amount of tricks or medals or mountains or girls touched it. If anything, it grew until I was one giant pit of empty.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Don’t say things like that.”
“Like what? The truth?” I felt the bed move as he did.
I covered my face with my hands. “Things that make me…feel things I’m not ready to.”
“Okay,” he said softly as he pulled my hands from my face. “What are you ready to feel? Just tell me that.”
He sat a breath away from me, his eyes luminous and so very green in the lamplight. My chest felt like it would explode or I was going to fly; one way or another, things were changing…but one thing had stayed the same.
I hadn’t fallen for Landon—I’d never recovered, never unfallen, never gotten over him—and that spark in my heart told me there were much bigger words and emotions at play. Emotions that would crush me with their weight if I let him in and he repeated our past.
“Rachel?” he asked softly.
Without letting myself examine it too much, I moved, straddling him easily with one knee on either side of his hips. His eyes were wide, but I saw the barely leashed hunger there as I cupped the back of his neck.
“You. I’m ready to feel you.”
