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I open my mouth to fire back at her when the doorbell rings, cutting through the tension. We all turn towards the sound, our heads swiveling in unison.
My mother's face lights up, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Oh, that must be him!" She bustles off to answer it, smoothing her already pristinely coiffed hair down as she goes, her heels clicking on the polished floor.
The moment she turns the corner and is out of eyesight, Annabelle waggles her eyebrows at me, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Busted."
I slump back against the couch, simply relieved to no longer be under my mother’s intense scrutiny. “Shut up, Demon-Doll.”
She glares at me, but any retort is cut off as my mother's delighted voice carries down the hall, filled with genuine warmth. "Well aren't you just as handsome as Kathryn said! Please, come in!"
Wait, what?
Heavy footsteps approach as my spine snaps straight, unease prickling the back of my neck like a warning of impending danger. A man fills the doorway to the living room, and I find myself gaping at the specimen before me. Just under six feet tall, athletic yet not overly bulky, with tousled dark blond hair and a clean-shaven face that shows off his dimples. His electric, piercing blue eyes are crinkled at the corners as he smiles widely, like he’s absolutely up to no good.
"I'm so sorry I'm late. Got held up at the hospital." He winks at me surreptitiously–a secret shared between us. What? I stare blankly, unable to form words as Annabelle giggles beside me, but even that doesn’t garner a reaction from me in my shocked state.
My mother claps her hands, her voice practically screeching from her excitement. "Oh wonderful! A doctor! What's your specialty?"
He turns that megawatt grin on her, leaving me to finally be able to pull in air as the weight of his gaze abandons me. "General surgery, ma'am. I'm in my last year of residency."
"How impressive! And so good of you to take time away from such important work to join us." She beams at him, her eyes shining with approval, before lunging forward to wrap him in a viselike hug. She has absolutely no respect for personal space. Yet, he simply chuckles a deep, resonating sound, and returns the embrace with genuine warmth.
Meanwhile, I'm still sitting paralyzed in shock, my mind racing. Just who is this mystery Casanova, and why is he here?
Annabelle leans in and whispers gleefully, her voice filled with awe, "Damn Kat, he is fine."
The man seems to balk as if he just remembered something terrible, before smiling widely at my mom. "Pardon my rudeness, ma’am. Name's Wilder, Kat’s boyfriend. She told me so much about you."
His southern drawl caresses my ears, and I can't tear my eyes from his athletic frame as he charms my mother effortlessly. When he faces me, his gaze bores into mine, and I feel my cheeks flush under the intensity of his stare.
Oh God. He broke me.
"Hey, baby." He grins, eyes twinkling as he saunters over to me, all confident swagger and gleeful mischief. Before I can raise a single objection, or figure out what the hell is going on, he pulls me off the couch and into a firm embrace. His masculine scent envelops me, sending butterflies swirling in my stomach.
What the hell is that smell? I can’t quite place it. I'm hyper-aware of his arms wrapped around my waist, the hard planes of his chest pressing against me, and the warmth of his body seeping through my skin and straight to my soul.
As we separate, his fingertips trail lightly down my lower spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. I suppress a shiver at the contact, my heart pounding in my chest, my brain still not quite catching up with the moment. His eyes spark knowingly, taking in my dazed reaction, as if he knows exactly what he's doing to me.
Leaning in close, his breath warm against my ear, he whispers, "I'm Wilder, from Book-A-Boyfriend. Just follow my lead," his voice, filled with a promise of adventure and excitement.
As realization dawns on me, my heart takes a momentary pause, slowing down just a tad, but not entirely. I mean, it's hard to stay calm when the man in front of me isn't just good-looking; he's the human embodiment of a warm summer's day. If charm were a currency, he'd be a billionaire.
My sister Annabelle watches our interaction eagerly, like this is the best day of her life. I shoot her a helpless look, and she winks back at me, clearly enjoying the chaos. Somewhere in my addled brain, I make a mental note to strangle her later.
Wilder places his hand more firmly on my lower back and spins us to face my mom, his touch setting off a buzz beneath my skin. Just when Mom opens her mouth to, no doubt, bombard the two of us with a billion questions, the doorbell sounds again–its chime echoing through the room ominously–and she spins on her heels to go answer it, a confused look settling over her features.
It’s only a few seconds before she returns, accompanied by an unfamiliar but imposing figure. He stands just over six feet tall, his muscular frame unable to be hidden even beneath a perfectly tailored suit. His salt-and-pepper hair is neatly combed, and a well-trimmed beard frames his face.
But it's the penetrating steel gray eyes that captivate me. They sweep the room before settling on me, as if peering straight into my soul.
"Apologies for my tardiness." His voice rumbles deep in his chest, commanding the room's attention. He strides over and takes my hand, pressing a polite kiss to my knuckles while holding my gaze. "Traffic was dreadful. I'm Wyatt, Kathryn's boyfriend."
My mother's eyebrows shoot up, her face a picture of confusion. "Her boyfriend? But I thought..." She looks between Wyatt and Wilder, her eyes wide.
Cue the record scratch sound, followed by an awkward silence so thick that I can’t draw a single breath in. My blood rushes in my ears, my stomach bottoming out, and I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out.
But then, like both a saving grace and a warning of impending doom…the doorbell rings yet again.
Every head in the room jerks to look towards the front door, every one of us frozen in place. It takes a moment before my mother shoots me a meaningful look and moves to answer it once more. Annabelle catches my eye, her confusion as clear as mine, though she has an amused shine behind it, whereas mine is pure panic.
