Page 62 of Reckless: Collision

The promise in his voice sends hunger to burn through me. “What makes you think you’ll get a next time?”

“Because.” He leans in, his scent flooding my senses. “You like the rush as much as I do. The edge between control and chaos. The moment right before the fall.”

God help me, he’s right.

“Higher ground.” He gestures to one of the lower peaks, mercifully backing out of my personal space. “Let’s see if you can get up there without breaking anything important.”

“Define important.” But I’m already reading the route, seeing the path like lines of code. Handholds become access points, angles transform into security gaps waiting to be exploited.

This time when I move, I let muscle memory guide me rather than pride. Each grip point flows into the next, my body finally understanding the language Jinx is teaching. It’s not aboutpower or speed—it’s about reading the system, finding the path of least resistance.

Just like hacking.

I reach the peak breathing hard but victorious, adrenaline singing through my veins better than any caffeine buzz. The view stretches for miles, morning sun painting the mountains in shades of possibility.

“Not bad.” Jinx appears beside me with that liquid grace that makes my stomach flip. “For a beginner.”

“Please.” I roll my eyes, but can’t quite contain my grin. “I’m a natural.”

“At getting into trouble? Definitely.”

The wind whips around us, carrying his cherry tobacco scent mixed with something darker. Something that speaks to the wild thing living under his skin, the beast he keeps chained with movement and madness.

“Your turn to teach me something,” he says suddenly.

“What?”

“Fair trade.” He settles cross-legged on the peak, patting the space beside him. “Show me how you see the world. How you read systems like I read surfaces.”

For a moment, I’m tempted. To share my language of ones and zeros, to show him how I dance through digital landscapes the way he flows across physical ones. To let someone else see the poetry in perfectly crafted code.

But that way lies trust. Connection. Things I can’t afford when Sterling Labs is hunting me, when betas are dying, when I’m temporary by design.

“Maybe next time.” I rise, brushing off my leggings. “Assuming I survive your crash course in gravitational defiance.”

Something flickers in his eyes—understanding maybe, or recognition of defensive walls he knows too well. “Next time then.”

As we make our way back to the attic window, I catch him watching me with that predatory focus that makes my pulse skip. “What?”

“Just thinking how right you look up here.” His voice carries that edge of beautiful instability that shouldn’t be attractive but absolutely is. “On the edge between sky and earth. Between order and chaos.”

“Careful.” I slip past him through the window, definitely not noting how his body heat makes me want to lean in. “Almost sounds like you like me.”

His laugh follows me down the stairs, wild and free. “Wouldn’t that be interesting?”

Yes. Yes it would.

And that’s exactly why I can’t let it happen.

No matter how tempting the fall might be.

Chapter 14

Cayenne

I’m soakedand not just with sweat.

And likely leaving a trail of lemon-scent strong enough to make any alpha’s head turn. The morning’s training has transformed my usual citrus into something headier, something that probably screamsavailable betato anyone with enhanced senses. Not that I care. Not that I notice how my body seems determined to broadcast its interest to everyone in this damn house.

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