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"And you'll stop being mean to Cash?"
"For one day," I make clear.
Wilder sucks in a harsh breath as he wraps his arms around my waist and pushes me into the bathroom, the door closing behind us with a resounding click.
I cup his face in my hands, stubble poking my palms as I stare into his eyes. He doesn't kiss me right away as his arms tighten their hold on me and we take each other in. Twenty-four hours ago, we were swimming in the creek, unaware that all of this was waiting for us hours later. Now, we're reduced to a single stolen moment in a public restroom.
"It's not fair," I breathe out. "It's not fair that he gets to come back and ruin everything."
"The first Christmas after my dad left," Wilder sucks in a harsh breath, "we were tight on money. My mom told me we weren't celebrating Christmas that year. She said as soon as she received the first child support payment my dad was supposedly sending, she'd buy me whatever I wanted. Well, Christmas came and went, then months passed, and my dad didn't make a single payment. He worked under the table and put everything in Margot's name. Even his bank account. He was, virtually, untouchable."
"I’m sorry."
"My mom struggled, but Cash knew I really wanted a new bike. Mine was too small, and the chain fell off every time I rode it. Cash mowed lawns that summer and saved up enough to buy me a bike for Christmas."
"That was nice of him," I say as I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
"Cash is selfish and self-absorbed sometimes," Wilder shrugs against me, "but he was raised in a mansion. He's a product of his upbringing. Except he's not just selfish and self-absorbed, he's also thoughtful and loyal. He screws up and then he makes things better. He's the guy who broke up with you to selfishly get away from his parents but then he came back home and gave up everything because he loves you. Because it's the right thing to do."
"But he left me."
"He came back," he argues.
"I'm not getting back together with him," I stand firm.
"I'm not asking you to," Wilder's fingers run through my hair. "I'm just asking you to be nice to him."
"You confuse me."
"I confuse me, too," he admits.
We stare at each other for a long moment before he moves his face forward and I hurry to kiss him. His mouth is warm and wet and welcoming as I run my tongue along his. He tastes like mint and summer and everything I've ever wanted.
I hold on tight, tighter than I've ever held onto anything in my life. Wilder's lips move slowly, savoring every moment.
When he finally pulls away, I feel my heart plummet to the cold concrete floor below. He carefully removes his arms from me and takes a step back. "You'll be nice to him now?"
"If that's what you want," I reply.
"Ingrid," he says my name again like it's his favorite word.
"I'll be nice," I promise.
Wilder walks in front of me as we make the short trek back to Cash. He's standing off to the side as a group finishes up their first round.
"Your turn," Cash gives Wilder a small smile.
I stand back a little, my heart and head woozy. I'm not giving up. I'm not letting Wilder walk away so easily. Not when I feel like this.
"Wait," Cash lightly smacks Wilder's arm. "We need a photo."
"Of what?" Wilder groans.
"Of the three of us."
"I'm good," Wilder runs a hand through his hair, his sunglasses hiding the fact that he's staring at me.
"No, Cash is right," I speak up. "We should take a photo. The three of us finishing out the last week of summer together."
