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The cashier removes the hangers from the clothes and shoves the garments into a large plastic bag. "Do you have ID?"
"You must be new here," Wilder chuckles as he flashes his eyebrows at me. "I'm Cash Allred. Archibald is my dad."
NO! I mentally yell at him. He doesn't think this is going to work, does he?
The cashier types away on the screen. "Do you have ID?"
Wilder shoves his free hand into both pockets. "Shit. I think I left it in the car."
"If you want—"
"What seems to be the problem?" An older woman appears behind the desk.
Great. Now, we're surely going to get caught. And then we're going to end up in jail. I just know it.
"He wants to put all of this," the cashier points to our bag, "on his dad's charge account, but he doesn't have his ID."
"What's the name on the account?" the older woman asks.
"Archibald Allred," Wilder answers for the cashier. "I'm in here all the time. Do I need to call my dad and let him know how his son is being treated by his favorite clothing store?"
"Cash, right?" The older woman eyes him suspiciously.
"That's me," Wilder fibs.
"I've seen him in here," the older woman tells the cashier. "He uses his dad's charge account all the time. I'll vouch for him."
"Thank you," Wilder offers the woman a warm smile.
The cashier hands us a receipt and we head out of the store, my heart a pounding, beating mess.
"What was that?" I snap. "We could have gotten caught."
"It was a big fuck you to Archibald," Wilder hitches a shoulder as he carries our bag of stolen goods like a trophy. "For cheating on his wife and sending my best friend away for the summer."
"Have you done that before?" I question. "Used Cash's name to get things?"
Wilder stops walking. "No. Never."
"Don't do it again, okay?"
"Why not?" Wilder scratches the back of his neck.
"Because," I tilt my head to the side. "We're better than the Allreds. And we don't need their charity."
"You're not going to let this become a thing, are you?" Wilder challenges.
I don't know what's going on with me. My heart is sloshing around in my chest as I stare into his hazel eyes. I think I might like Wilder. Like, really like him. How else do I explain what I'm feeling right now? I don't want him offering sex in exchange for bucket list favors. I don't want him lying and stealing because I can't afford clothes to play a round of golf with him. I don't want him to hurt because his dad chose his second family over him.
The realization hits me like a brick wall. It hurts to breathe, and my heart feels bruised.
"Blondie," Wilder blinks rapidly. "You're not going to let this become a thing, right?"
"No," I answer hoarsely.
"Good," he pinches his lips together. "You want to grab a burger at the diner?"
I nod. "Sure."
