Page 32 of Wilder

“I wanted to make something of myself,” he said smoothly, then shot me a shit-eating grin. “Asher wanted the chance to fuck a hot cowboy or two.”

I shoved him, hard enough that he nearly toppled over onto his side. “Shut up.”

Grey barked out a laugh, catching himself on one elbow. The one thing about my brother going into the military was that it turned him into a surprisingly agile individual. One I couldn’t exactly push around anymore like I was dying to.

On more than a few occasions we got into wrestling matches to settle scores. And while that was a tempting avenue to go down if a disagreement ever came up during our three-week stay, I had a hard time believing I was going to come out the winning side.

Especially, given how buff he was now.

Sure, I had muscle on me, too—hard-earned from lifting bales of hay, stacking feed bags, and handling livestock on the daily—but that was different from the kind of strength you got from military training.

I wasn’t out there doing drills six hours a day. I wasn’t running obstacle courses or scaling walls to keep up with fitness test standards.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t been salivating over your bunker buddies,” I shot back, lifting a brow.

“Squad,” he corrected instantly, straightening his posture again. “And no. I know how to behave myself.”

Dexter’s eyes bounced between us both. “Are... you both gay?”

My gaze shot to him.

Uh-oh.

Not that I was ashamed—hell, Greyson definitely wasn’t—but the bluntness of the question, the way he’d said it so suddenly caught me completely off guard.

I wasn’t used to people asking. Most of the time, they just knew.

And honestly?

I figured I was pretty damn obvious about it. I hardly had to explain myself after arriving at the ranch. It seemed like a given—especially, with the way I latched onto Wilder’s insanely handsome face and body like some lovesick idiot.

And while no one aside from Laken had actually called me out for it, at least to my face, I doubted anyone else would care.

Well, aside from me. If news of my ridiculous crush ever got back to Wilder, that might actually send me into an early grave.

Meanwhile, Greyson barely even paused before flashing a grin. “Yep. Don’t tell me your dad didn’t give you the birds-and-the-birds talk.”

Dexter’s brow rose. “Don’t you mean ‘birds-and-the-bees’?”

“Nope. Birds can totally be gay. You ever see those tear-jerking videos on Facebook about the gay swan couples raising a bunch of chicks? Ugh, gets me every time. It’s my version of those soldiers-coming-home videos.”

Dexter just stared at him, blinking slowly.

I dragged a hand down my face. “I hate that that made sense.”

Greyson smirked, looking far too pleased with himself. “Just say you love me, Ash.”

“Not in this lifetime.”

Then—totally unfazed—Dexter finally shrugged. “Cool.”

I blinked at him. “That’s it?”

He didn’t even look up as he tossed another card onto the pile between us, his movements casual, completely unbothered. “Yeah? What else is there to say? I’m not some bigot.”

“I wasn’t...”

Ah, fuck.