I take a deep breath, half lost in Wilder's eyes, half annoyed by him being a total delulu.
Cash always has us, but he's still not over last summer.
“What if we're not enough, Wilder?” I push. “What if we—”
“Ingrid.” He scoots closer and cups my cheek in his cool hand. “We can't save Cash. We make a path and hope he saves himself.”
I feel guilty that I'm madly in love with Wilder, and Cash can barely stomach an afternoon at the creek with the two of us.
“Stop beating yourself up,” Wilder says as he runs his fingers through my hair.
“I'm trying.” I tilt my head to the side as his fingers gently massage my scalp.
Wilder leans in and I get lost in the golden flecks of his hazel-green eyes. “Ingrid.”
My name falls from his lips like magic. Fuzzy, popping, iridescent.
“What?” I give him a small smile.
“I love you,” he mutters loud enough so only I can hear.
“I love you, too.” I melt like an ice cream cone in the summer heat.
Wilder presses his lips to mine. It's chaste and innocent. It's the type of kiss he sneaks when Cash is close by, but he doesn't want to get caught. Wilder reserves the passionate, fiery kisses for my bedroom. For the hours we spend beneath my sheets. For the times he calls me Ingrid in safe, secret places.
“I think I'm ready to go home,” Cash announces as he interrupts another stolen moment.
I clear my throat and stand. “We should probably go, too. Wilder and I have an uncomfortable Winthrop family dinner to attend.Come to think of it, you should join, Cash. Maybe you'll lighten the mood.”
“Isla will be there,” Wilder warns. “And she said she has a big announcement.”
Cash raises his eyebrows. “I think I'll skip. I'm not in the mood for Isla's theatrics.”
“You sure?” Wilder presses.
Cash checks his phone and I watch the corner of his lips tip up. “Yeah, I'm sure.”
He responds to whoever messaged him while Wilder and I share a curious look.
“Who are you chatting with?” Wilder asks.
Cash's cheeks burn red. “N-no one.”
“Um...” Wilder clicks his tongue. “That response would suggest otherwise.”
“It's just a friend,” Cash rubs the back of his neck. That's his tell. He's lying.
“Agirlfriend?” Wilder teases him.
“Wilder,” I chastise, “stop embarrassing Cash.”
Cash straightens. “I'm not embarrassed. I’m just not interested in talking about my love life withyou two.” I flinch at those last words before Cash adds, “No offense.”
But I am offended. I didn’t know Cash had a love life. I wouldn’t know. He doesn’t really talk to me.
Wilder's eyes widen as he holds out his hand to me. “Come on, Blondie. Let's not intrude on Cash's love life.”
“I didn't mean...” Cash trails off as I slip my fingers into Wilder's.
