Maybe I really do need to win that bet. If I do, I can move out, split the cost of rent and maybe get some peace and quiet.
My cell vibrates. Again.
“You should really get that, Blondie,” Wilder calls over his shoulder as he pulls into a parking spot.
My throat dries.
I don’t want to deal with the Winthrops right now.
I just want to be with Wilder.
But does he feel the same way?
The nagging sensation in my chest dissipates a little as Wilder reaches for my hand.
Cash walks in front of us as we head toward the tall structure.
It’s a white-striped soda bottle with a massive straw.
I shield my eyes as I stop and stare up at it.
“What do you think?” Wilder coos in my ear as he releases my hand and steps behind me.
His arms circle my waist, and I lean back into him, terrified and a little dazed.
If he’s hiding something, I’ll eventually find out. The question is whether it’s something that matters.
I shake my head, knocking the thoughts away.
We’re young, in love, and on a summer road trip. That should be the focus.
“Come on, Lovebirds,” Cash groans. “Let me take your picture.”
Wilder turns us, his lips grazing my ear. “We could call a temporary truce,” he whispers.
I ignore him and smile as Cash snaps a photo of us with his phone.
“What kind of truce?” I ask, already knowing full well he’s talking about the bet.
The bet I have to win.
“We could get our own hotel room tonight,” he proposes.
My spine stiffens. A night alone with Wilder? All to myself. I want that more than anything.
“How long would this truce last?” I ask him.
Wilder’s hands slide to my hips, and he presses a warm kiss on my shoulder. “Just one night.”
Um… YES!
“I’ll think about it,” I tell him.
“Offer expires in ten minutes, Blondie,” he warns as his hands drop from my waist.
I swallow hard.
A night alone. Without Cash. In a city where no one knows us.
