Page 191 of One Wild Wish

I’d also lose the challenge I’d set for myself last year.

Three hundred and sixty-four days ago, I’d sat in a bar with Ainsley and Rachel, and the three of us had agreed to make life-altering wishes. Resolutions to change our lives by our next shared birthday.

Meeting the girls the night we’d all turned twenty-one had been my saving grace, the three of us coincidentally wasted in the same bar seven years ago. After my WTF, April 12th had become a black hole of a day. Since meeting the girls, it had turned from an approaching death sentence to a celebration.

Every year we drank and laughed and had fun, but last year had been more meaningful, the wish to learn my father’s identity a huge one for me. I was sure I’d make it happen.

Then my mother died.

“No,” I said again, more vehemently, “I’m not sad she’s gone. I’m pissed at her for screwing me up, but not sad.”

“You’re not screwed up. You’re the strongest person I know.” She released my hands and squeezed my bicep teasingly. “And the craziest, but in a good way.”

“Jumping out of airplanes isn’t crazy.”

“It’s certifiable. As is rock climbing without a rope. And bungee jumping. And surfing insane waves.”

She had a point. But after my WTF night and hitting the Grand Canyon of rock bottoms, I’d vowed to stop living my life afraid. Scare myself. Make life my bitch. Those had become my mottos. Aside from being stupid good fun, adrenaline was the only outlet that drowned the unpleasant voices in my head. Which meant I should have marched over to August Cruz earlier and apologized. That would have shot my heart rate through the roof.

If I’d finally confessed the extent of my feelings toward him nine years ago, my heart would probably have burst through my chest.

Texting back then that I’d been jealous of Kayla hadn’t been the same as saying I loved you so much in high school it hurt to breathe . I wasn’t about to lay that crushing truth at his feet now, not when one look at him stirred those dormant feelings to life. He did, however, deserve a grovel fest complete with bended knee.

Yet I’d run away.

I picked at my stubby nails. “Maybe I should drive back. Drag August out of the game and beg his forgiveness.”

“Might be awkward timing,” she said drily.

“Is there good timing for this sort of thing?”

“I’d go for something less public.”

I dropped my head forward. After dealing with my mother’s illness and death, I figured I was due for some good karma. I’d considered dating again, hoped my luck would turn around and I’d meet a non-asshole. Instead, August Cruz had been thrust back into my life. The opposite of an asshole, but he’d never see me as anything but a traitor.

This wasn’t how I’d expected my twenty-seventh year to end. Not by a landslide. Especially after how it had started. “Ainsley told me you guys fulfilled your birthday wishes this year,” I said. “Which I’m thrilled about—you both seem so happy. But I was stupid enough to wish for the impossible.”

“To meet your dad?” Compassion filled her voice.

I nodded, touched she knew me well enough to figure it out. We’d written our wishes down last year, hadn’t shared them aloud. We’d needed accountability, assurance we’d work toward our goals. Then I’d tucked the folded papers in my purse to be opened at our next birthday, which was tomorrow.

“Not fulfilling mine’s been eating at me,” I said. “Worse with tomorrow’s deadline—which I know is silly. There’s no timeline on something like this. But I thought setting the date would make it happen, that I’d at least learn my father’s name. So I think that’s messing with my mind, and seeing August didn’t help. He used to help with reconnaissance work, childish investigative stuff with the two of us sleuthing to find my dad. It all just kinda sucks.”

She tucked my hair behind my ear. “It sucks big fat donkey cock.”

I snorted at her uncharacteristic dirty humor. “Way to channel your inner Ainsley.” A girl who got her rocks off embarrassing others with inappropriate jokes.

“Anything to make you smile.” A job well done. Her tone sobered. “I’m glad you told me what happened with August. I get it if you want some alone time to wallow, but Jimmy and I are meeting Ainsley and Owen for early drinks tonight, before we head to different events we have. A little ‘day before birthday’ celebration. You should—”

Knocking cut her off, another intruder. So much for my blessed silence.

Groaning, I pushed to my feet and headed for the door. If someone was selling Girl Scout Cookies, I’d buy the whole lot and drown my stress in cookie goodness. But it wasn’t a Girl Scout. It was a sweaty August.

3

1 p.m.

35 Hours until Gwen’s Birthday Wish Expires