Her High School Crush Read online

  Her High School Crush

  Lori Wilde

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Epilogue

  Excerpt: The Billionaire’s Secret Summer

  About the Author

  Also by Lori Wilde

  1

  Emma comes face to face with the one that got away....

  “You’ve brought me of the ends of the earth to die,” Emma Jacobs accused her best friend Izzy Montgomery.

  “Ends of the earth? What are you talking about?” Izzy said. “It’s just Colorado.”

  Emma—who was a city girl through and through—stared at the vast expanse of trees and sky and land and water. No taxis honking. No smell of hot dog carts. No crowds jostling. No smog. No hot asphalt. Nothing to remind her of home.

  “Come on,” Izzy urged. “Stretch your wings. Try something different. Don’t be afraid to expand your horizons. That’s what I was telling Hunter before we left New York. His girlfriend broke up with him.”

  “I’ve been in the wilderness before,” Emma grumbled. “Had a couple of bad experiences there. I went to summer camp when I was a kid, and it was awful.” She’d been stung by angry bees and broken her arm falling off a ledge during a hike. “Speaking of awful, I’m sorry to hear that about Hunter. He’s a nice guy. One of the few.”

  “He’s better off without her. She kept complaining about the amount of time he spent at my apartment. She couldn’t get it through her head that Hunter and I are just friends.”

  “Well, I understand where he’s at right now—that just-broken-up hell. I’m still hurting over Ryan,” Emma said.

  “Hey, you told me you wanted to go somewhere you’d forget all about Ryan. Well, there’ll be no sign of him here.”

  Ryan Andrews. The guy she’d met on a Bahamas cruise last year. The same guy who’d broken things off with her because he’d found someone he liked better.

  Emma gritted her teeth. Izzy was right. Okay, so this place was a godforsaken wilderness, but there was absolutely no chance of running into metrosexual Ryan in these rugged parts.

  “You’re thinking about Ryan,” Izzy said.

  “How did you know?”

  “You’ve got this expression on your face like you’ve been eating lemons.”

  Emma blew out her breath. “I’m totally over him,” she said. “I view him as a necessary speed bump on my road to stop romanticizing every relationship the way I’ve done since...”

  Well, since Trent Colton.

  She thought of how he’d looked at eighteen, cocking a deadly grin and leaning in to steal a kiss from her in the hallway of her high school in Tarrytown, New York. There were some things a girl never forgot. Her first kiss, her first love, the first man she’d ever slept with. Trent had been all three. Emma gulped, feeling her cheeks color as she remembered her youthful mistake. It had all started with Trent—her tendency to romanticize love. If she could go back in time, she’d do a lot of things differently.

  “C’mon,” Izzy said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. “Let’s get registered.”

  Izzy started for the small log cabin situated at the end of the road where the bus had dumped the group, joining the four other women headed in the same direction. This particular tour was advertised as women only. The point was to get out in the wilderness, hike some mountains, raft some white water, and learn a few survival skills.

  When Izzy had first posed the trip while Madison and Bianca were off jetting the world and falling in love, Emma had been all for it. She’d needed something to take her mind off the fact that as a librarian, she didn’t possess the funds for flying off to Brazil or Costa Rica.

  Plus, she’d wanted to get as far away from the opposite sex as she could. But now that she was here, she wasn’t so sure. Where were the comfy hotels? The spas? The room service?

  “Ah,” Izzy said, taking a deep breath and then expelling it. “Smell that crisp, pine-scented air? It’s a good twenty degrees cooler here than in Manhattan.”

  It was, but that wasn’t a selling point. Emma liked heat. As soon as the temperature dipped into the sixties, she hauled out sweaters and jackets.

  “At least we’re not going to have to worry about the bet while we’re out here,” Izzy remarked, slowing down so Emma could catch up with her. “No hunky guys around to distract us from our goal.”

  “Which is?” Emma asked, mincing carefully around a collection of rocks that had fallen from the rise onto the path.

  “To become stronger women.”

  “Oh, yeah, that goal.”

  “Did you wear your special lingerie?” Izzy asked.

  “Of course, I did,” Emma replied, shifting her mental focus to the lingerie she had on underneath her jeans and T-shirt. “Madison and Bianca are monitoring us. But shh, please don’t call it that in public.”

  “I’m going to win, you know,” Izzy said smugly.

  “Not likely. I don’t jump into bed with guys the way you do.”

  “Ouch, the kitten’s got claws.”

  “Okay, sorry, that sounded mean, but come on, Izzy, you have been with a lot of guys.”

  “Which is why I’m sure I’m going to win the bet.”

  “I’m not following you. If you have trouble controlling your libido—”

  “You’re the one who has issues. You fall in love with every guy you sleep with.”

  Guilty as charged. She’d slept with three guys in her twenty-seven years, and she’d fallen in love with all three of them. Trent hardest of all.

  “I know that I can go without sex, but I don’t know if you can go without falling in love.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “We’ll see,” Izzy said. “May the best woman win.” With that, she opened the door to the log cabin and stood aside for Emma to go in first.

  The other four women who’d been on the bus with them were chattering like bees in a hive. Excited, intense. In contrast, Emma was depressed, a bee without wings. She was not looking forward to this vacation. She’d just wanted out of the city, away from places she’d visited with Ryan.

  “Hi!” greeted a cheery woman in her mid-thirties. She had short dark hair and a perky way of bouncing on her toes. “I’m Selena. I just got divorced, and I’m ready for the next chapter in my life. How ’bout you?”

  “I’m Emma, I just got out of a relationship, too.”

  “Married?” Selena asked.

  “No.”

  “You dodged a bullet. Stay single.”

  “Um...thanks for the advice.”

  Besides Selena, there were Deanna and Jessica, traveling companions from Ohio. They shared a house in Cincinnati and loved taking active vacations together. They’d been wanting to take a white-water rafting trip for years, and they were “so enthused to be here.”

  Emma guessed them to be in their late thirties or early forties. And there was Myrtle, sixtyish, slim. She was recently widowed, and her daughter had bought the trip for her. Myrtle’s mood seemed to match Emma’s. Unsure about the whole thing.

  Behind the desk, a young woman Emma estimated to be about five years younger than her was checking people in. The girl was vaguely familiar, but Emma couldn’t place her. As she and Izzy waited their turn to sign in, a truck rumbled to a stop outside the door.

  Emma didn’t pay much attention. She was wriggling around, trying to get the lingerie unbunched from around her waist without being obvious about it. The cabin door opened. Emma tugged. The women in the place let out a collective sigh. Emma shifted her backpack and finally glanced up.

  All the air left her lungs.

  A man stood in the en
trance of the place that was supposed to be for women only. A tall, dark, ruggedly handsome man in scuffed hiking boots and a battered straw cowboy hat, looking for all the world as though he’d stepped from the set of an Old West movie.

  Emma’s stomach lurched. Not just because he cut a powerfully sexy image, but because she’d know that face anywhere. Had dreamed of it many a night. Her shoulders tensed. Her thighs tingled. Her hands curled into fists.

  Trent Colton in the flesh, looking a hundred times sexier than he had been ten years ago.

  Izzy nudged her in the ribs. “See, I told you I was going to win the bet.”

  * * *

  “You set me up,” Emma hissed.

  Izzy shrugged and grinned.

  “But…”Emma darted another glance at Trent. He was busy studying a clipboard and hadn’t seen her yet. “How did you find him?” she whispered.

  “Remember that night we went out to Club Sizzle?”

  “The week after Bianca went to Brazil and Madison headed to Costa Rica?”

  “Yeah, and you got a little tipsy and started gushing to me about your first love?”

  “No.”

  “Well, you did. Anyway, I looked him up on Facebook, and voilà, I discovered he ran a wilderness-vacation-adventures outfit. That’s when I proposed the trip.”

  “How did you know he was the right Trent Colton?”

  “There weren’t that many, plus he was in your age group, and you listed the same high school. I took a shot.”

  “What if he’s married? I mean if you lured me here thinking I’ll rekindle the relationship and you’ll win the bet, then you had to find out his marital status.”

  “It said ‘single’ on his Facebook page.”

  Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh. It was Trent, and he was single. Emma’s heart pounded so loudly she feared everyone in the place could hear it. Particularly Trent.

  She gulped. Every muscle in her body urged her to sprint from the cabin and run after the bus headed back to Durango, but it was too late. Like it or not, she was stranded.

  “Hello, ladies,” Trent greeted the group. “I’m Trent Colton, your guide for this adventure.”

  Izzy made yummy noises—so did Myrtle.

  Deanna and Jessica looked as though they didn’t care either way.

  Selena scowled. “A man? Why are we stuck with a man? I thought this was supposed to be a women-only trip. I came out here to get away from men.”

  Amen to that, Emma thought.

  Trent raised his palms. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, ma’am, but we’re short-staffed for the summer. My name’s listed as the tour guide on the website. My sister Angie will be happy to refund your money and arrange transportation to the airport if my gender is an issue for anyone.”

  Ah, that explained why Angie was familiar. When Emma and Trent had been dating, Angie had been thirteen. She’d changed a lot, grown into her looks.

  “Why can’t Angie guide us?” asked the disgruntled woman.

  Angie rounded a hand over her belly. “Sorry, I’m six months pregnant.”

  A sympathetic murmur went up from the group.

  “My brother knows what he’s doing. You’re in good hands,” Angie assured them. “He’s a true professional.”

  “I want my money back,” Selena said. “Please arrange for my shuttle to the airport.”

  Here’s your chance. Take your money and hop on the bus out of here with Selena.

  Emma stepped forward, but then something stopped her from saying anything. Running away wasn’t the answer. If she really did want to make a clean start for the future, she’d have to face the past.

  And the past was standing right across the room from her.

  “Personally,” Izzy whispered. “Even though I know he’s yours, I don’t mind enjoying the scenery for the next seven days.”

  “He’s not mine,” Emma snapped. “Not anymore.”

  “Emma?”

  At the sound of Trent’s voice pouring over her, smooth as honey, Emma closed her eyes. He’d finally seen her. No running away now.

  “Emma Jacobs, is that really you?”

  Emma suppressed a groan and turned to greet him. “Or are you going by another name now?” Trent asked, weaving toward her.

  Emma shoved a hand through her hair. It was hard to smile when she felt so shaky inside. “No, still Jacobs.”

  “How did that happen?” Trent asked, raking an appreciative gaze over her body. “I would have bet even money that someone would have snatched you up and put a big diamond ring on your finger by now.”

  “Nope, no snatching.”

  Trent tipped back his cowboy hat, tilted his head, and grinned. “His loss is my gain.”

  Just as knee-wobblingly charming as ever. Emma’s heart was thumping madly now.

  They stood looking at each other, and it was as if she were eighteen again and madly in love for the first time. All the bittersweet, angst-filled teenage emotions she thought she’d forgotten all about came surging to the forefront, and for a split second, she could not get her breath.

  “Well...” he said, his eyes eating her up. “Well, you sure look good.”

  Emma’s cheeks heated. “Um...so do you.”

  “We need to catch up.”

  “Um...yes...let’s do that.”

  He waved his hand at the counter. “I’ll let you get registered, then come on out to the landing where we’re outfitting everyone with their gear.”

  “Okay,” she replied, not knowing what else to say.

  Trent went around the desk and through a door behind his sister.

  The minute he disappeared from sight, Emma’s shoulders sagged. “I can’t do this, Izzy.”

  “Scared you’re on the way to losing the bet?”

  “No, terrified I’ll make the same mistakes I made ten years ago.”

  “You’re tough. You can resist him.”

  “Bringing me here is like putting chocolate cake in front of someone who’s been on a low-carb diet for a year.”

  “Yep.”

  “And you’re not the least bit remorseful.”

  “Nope.”

  “If you weren’t my best friend, I’d call you something that rhymes with witch.”

  Izzy was impervious. “Hey, do what you gotta do.”

  “Witch.”

  “Hopeless romantic.”

  “Heartless love ’em and leave ’em.”

  “Sticks and stones.”

  “You owe me big-time.”

  “All right, I’ll grant you that. I promise to do your laundry for a week when we get home.”

  “No way. You’re taking me out to eat somewhere really expensive.”

  “Okay. I’ll have that fifteen hundred dollars from you guys after you all lose the bet to me,” Izzy chuckled. “I can swing that.”

  “I’m not losing the bet.” Emma gritted her teeth. This wasn’t about the bet at all. This was about her past and the way she’d fallen into the same tender trap. Picking men who looked like Trent. Both Ryan and her college boyfriend, Doug, had possessed the same dark hair, tall stature, and rugged attractiveness as Trent.

  Apparently, he’d gotten into her blood, and as much as she believed she’d put the past behind her, one glance at him was enough to prove her completely wrong.

  Once Izzy had signed them in, Angie gave her a list of dos and don’ts for successful white-water rafting, then instructions on where to pick up their gear and directions to the launching dock. Deciding that she was going to view this as a positive and let go of her anger and anxiety, Emma followed Izzy to the lockers where they could store their purses and luggage and pick up sleeping bags and backpacks.

  Once they were outside again, the sheer beauty of the place bowled her over. The river stretched out to their left. She could see glimpses of it through the trees. Myrtle, Deanna, and Jessica had already picked up their packs and had started walking down a narrow path to the dock where Trent stood surveying everyone like the captain of his
domain. Which, she supposed, he was.

  He grinned and waved at Emma.

  Stupidly, she grinned and waved back. What in the heck was wrong with her? She couldn’t rewrite the past. How had she gotten here?

  Oh yeah, Izzy. Her friend could think again if she thought she was going to win that bet. Emma was strong. She was resolute. She was not going to cave simply because the one-who-got-away was strutting around on the dock like a runway model.

  Stop watching him!

  Ah, but she couldn’t. He moved with such agile grace, and she was mesmerized. Compelled by a force beyond her control, caught in a whirlpool of emotions, all she could do was stare.

  No, no, that was wrongheaded thinking. This was not beyond her control. She was here on vacation. She planned on learning how to white-water raft and start a campfire and all that other good survivalist nonsense. She was just going to forget that Trent had once held her in the protective circle of his arms, that she had once rested her head on his shoulder and dreamed of being Mrs. Emma Colton.

  That was the stuff of fairy tales. Romantic and unattainable. A fantasy.

  And this was her chance to stomp it out once and for all.

  2

  She was sexier than ever.

  Lust, hot and hard, grabbed Trent in a death grip as he watched her come down the hill toward the dock.

  He stared at her feet and raked his gaze up to that pretty face that still occasionally haunted his dreams. Trent swore under his breath. At twenty-eight, Emma was in the prime of her youth. She wasn’t even dressed sexily, but to him, she would have rocked a potato sack with those luscious curves. She had her wheat-colored hair pulled back in a ponytail, topped off with a pink baseball cap. She wore a matching pink T-shirt that nipped in at the waist to show off her body, a pair of faded jeans, and brand-new hiking boots. Blisters were in her future.

  The sweat trickling between his shoulder blades had nothing to do with the warm weather and everything to do with the gorgeous blast from his past. He ran the back of his hand across his brow and blew out a pent-up breath.