Page 103 of Wilder

He deserved to be seen for the man that he was, not the role he was fulfilling in place of someone else long gone. I never knew his dad, but I was confident he’d never want something like that for his son.

What kind of father would?

If he let me, I’d make sure to spend every damn day reminding him of exactly that.

CHAPTER 25

Wilder

I woke up still tangled in Asher.

The first thing I noticed, was how damn warm he ran—hotter than he had any right to be, reminding me of those old rubber water bottles my mama used to tuck under my blankets during those rare cold snaps when I was a kid.

The second was his leg slung heavy over my hip, pinning me in place, an arm sprawled across my chest and tucked tight around my waist. My heart stammered a beat, letting the weight of him sink against me as he slept soundly.

His hold on me was possessive, like the way I’d been last night—hell, like I’d been every damn time I got close enough to touch him. Something took over my brain in those moments, a need to claim him in each and every way I could, no matter how obvious the marks I left behind were.

Thinking back, there was never a time before where I’d felt like this. Never a moment where I’d experienced such a bone deep demand to keep someone. I’d had plenty of people warm my bed over the years, and none of them affected me quite like this.

What did that say about Asher?

What did that say about me?

I drifted my fingers up the line of his spine, slow and careful so I didn’t wake him. I traced the soft ridges under his skin, all the way up to where he’d nuzzled his face right under my chin. His nose pressed to the side of my throat, warm exhales a steady rhythm that brought my heart rate back down with each one.

Funny how he always managed to do that—set me off until nothing made sense and then ground me quickly after.

If I had it my way, we’d be waking up like this every damn day.

I glanced over at the faint light coming in from my window; it was barely creeping over top of the curtains.

Still too early for the rest of the ranch to be up and moving, meaning we had a little time left. Not enough like I wanted, but then again, I didn’t think any amount of minutes or hours spent curled up like this would give me the kind of fix I was craving.

Truth be told, I didn’t mean for us to fall asleep in the first place.

I figured once the worst of our delirium had been burned out of us, I’d help him sneak back downstairs and out the side door, force myself to watch him go as he made his way back up to the bunkhouse while pretending it was easy to ignore the dull ache left in my chest once I finally shut that porch light off and made my way up to an empty bed that smelled just like him.

It would’ve been the smart thing to do. That was how it should’ve gone.

Instead, when he’d slowly drifted off, I’d pulled him closer without thinking. Buried my nose in the curly ends of his hair and let that lull me into a dreamless sleep.

Now he was going to have a hell of a time getting back up to the bunkhouse without anyone catching him walking in through the front door. And if they did, it’d be all my fault.

I should wake him...

I brushed my fingers along the back of his neck, twisting the ends of his hair around my finger.

If I was real honest with myself, this might’ve been the first moment of peace I’d had in almost two years. Since my father died, rest never came easy. No matter how much I needed it or my body begged for it, my mind loved to race with all the things I should’ve been doing instead—going to bed later, waking up earlier, punching in for the day and getting a jumpstart on chores before the operations side of things pulled me back to my office and forced me to sit behind a desk for too many more hours than I cared for.

I wasn’t ready to let go of this yet; throw us both back into another day’s worth of hustling until we dragged ourselves back to our own separate beds to start all over again tomorrow.

When would be the next time we saw each other again like this?

If I could let myself have this one selfish moment⁠—

A soft, sleepy noise rumbled against my throat, caught between a sigh and a groan.

Asher shifted against me, his arm dragging across my chest like dead weight before it moved up near my head. His fingers found their way into my hair, tangling around the short ends lazily. He gave them a gentle tug and let out another long, shuddering exhale before rubbing his cheek along my shoulder.