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"Then don't."
"How?" I pull away and gaze up at him.
Wilder cups my face in his hands and wipes the tears off my cheeks with his thumbs. "When I figure it out, I'll let you know."
"I'm sorry your dad left you. I think he made a big mistake. You are... you're lots of things. But you've been here for me. You know, since Cash left. There's some good in there." I lay a hesitant palm on his chest. "Might have to dig a little to find it but I know it's there."
Wilder's eyes grow impossibly large.
"What?" I whisper.
He caresses my cheek gently before he leans forward and kisses me.
Chapter 14
The Wax Job
His mouth is devastatingly addictive. Every swipe of his tongue against mine—every suck and lick and nip—feels like I'm being devoured whole. And it's sensational.
I can't seem to catch my breath as Wilder's fingers cup my chin possessively and the front of his khaki pants rubs against the front of my skirt. I'm wet and sticky and uncomfortable down there. I don't think I mind, though. I don't want him to stop. I don't want him to end the kiss. I've never been kissed like this before. Like a thousand fireworks exploding in the sky above us.
My hands slide up his stomach as he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and I place a hand over his heart, the rhythm a chaotic beat. I know if I checked my pulse, it'd be dancing to the same cadence. Boom, boom, boom.
When our lips part, I hear an audible sigh escape my mouth. Wilder tugs the baseball cap off my head and rests his forehead against mine.
I wait for him to say something, but he's breathing heavily, and his eyes are closed. I should say something, right? I should acknowledge what just happened.
"Are you ready to go?" he whispers before replacing the hat on my head and leaving me a writhing, confused mess in the country club parking lot.
What the hell just happened?
I drive home in a fog. Wilder kissed me. He shoved his tongue inside my mouth. But now, he's sitting silently beside me on his phone as if those fireworks exploding—boom, boom, boom—never happened. As if it meant nothing.
By the time we're parked outside my house, I've convinced myself that I imagined the whole thing. It didn't happen. We didn't happen. Whatever that was in the parking lot was a made-up scenario. A dream. But then, why is my heart still beating so hard in my chest?
Wilder hops out first and pops open the trunk. He grabs the golf clubs and slings them over his shoulder.
"See you later," he says.
"Are we not going to talk about it?" I ask as I wrap my arms around my midsection.
"It was a weak moment, Blondie. Don't read into it too much," he says as he flashes his eyebrows at me.
"Wilder," I take a hurt step forward. "That wasn't just a weak moment. I... I felt something. I..."
"You're Cash's," he reminds me. "Not mine. You've always been Cash's."
"Well," I shake my head, "Cash isn't here."
"I have to go."
"Wilder!" I call after him, but he's already a house away. Then two. Then, he disappears down his driveway and I still haven't moved from the spot I'm frozen in.
I don't know what's going on. What do I do now?
I lock my car and trudge up the pathway to the front door, thoroughly confused.
I wake to the sound of Isla's latest temper tantrum. I wonder what Her Royal Highness is shrieking about now.
