Page 69 of Wilder

Before I could say anything else, there was a noise on his end—the creak of a door opening followed by someone calling his name—and then, just like that, the call dropped. No goodbye. No final wish for a Happy New Year. Just the sudden and unexpected end of our conversation, leaving me stranded mid-thought.

Pulling the phone back from my ear, I stared down at the call log, our conversation now nothing more than a number and a timestamp.

Slowly, I scrubbed a hand over my face again.

What the hell just happened?

More importantly, would Asher even remember any of this?

I doubted it.

By the time morning rolled around, he’d probably wake up with a headache, a blurry recollection of fireworks and celebration, and maybe a vague memory of sneaking away into the bathroom for a phone call.

But that would be it.

The details would be lost somewhere in the haze of booze and the excitement from the night before.

Hell, I’d be lucky if he even brought it up when I saw him Friday. If he did mention it, it’d probably be casual and offhanded. A, hey, why’d we talk for over twenty minutes on New Year’s? Completely unaware of the fact that the conversation had upended me entirely.

What the hell was I supposed to say to that?

I’d have to make up some excuse, lie through my teeth to save face, Oh, you called me, remember? You were rambling about the engagement. Nothing important.

Keep it simple. Safe.

I’d be stuck remembering every fucking second by myself because this wasn’t the kind of conversation you just forgot. This whole damn thing had seared itself into my brain, burrowed deep in a place I couldn’t reach, shake, or ignore even if I wanted to.

Crush on me since he started...

There was no way that was true.

I would’ve noticed.

I thought back to the day Asher first arrived at the ranch—bright-eyed, too damn eager, throwing himself into every task like he had something to prove. Unafraid of getting his hands dirty, unshaken by the hard work, determined to learn fast enough to keep up.

The too-easy laughs, the sharp and quick-witted comebacks that rolled off his tongue like second nature, never hesitating to fire back when the other ranch hands gave him shit.

He’d fit in seamlessly. Effortlessly.

Never once had he called me out for my gaze lingering a little too long on him whenever he pulled his shirt up to wipe the sweat from his face. Never said a damn word when he caught me watching him from the fringes of the pasture, from across the paddock, when I thought I was being subtle.

Not once did he mention my habit of hovering—always right there, always a step too close, always keeping an eye on him when he was perfectly capable of handling things on his own.

If he had a crush on me, I would’ve noticed.

Wouldn’t I?

CHAPTER 17

Asher

The first thing I registered after slowly peeling my eyes open was how obnoxious the early morning sun coming in from my uncovered windows was, making the pounding in my skull a kind of relentless, merciless throb that made me feel like my brain was trying to slowly seep out of my eye sockets.

The second was how tangled up in my sheets I was. One leg completely trapped while the other dangled off the bed, my torso somehow caught in the middle of it all while I lay with my cheek pressed against the mattress. Both of my pillows had somehow gotten tossed onto the floor in the middle of the night, too far out of reach for me to grab now to help the crick in my neck.

I let out a small groan as I rolled onto my back, moving way too fast, and immediately regretted it the second the room gave a dangerous spin. For a brief moment, I prayed to whatever deity I could to keep me from losing whatever was left in my system from the night before onto the floor, a cold sweat breaking out across my forehead.

Jesus, when was the last time I got this drunk?