Page 102 of Stay Wild Darlin’

That got her a little. A soft breath of laughter escaped her lips.

“I mean, if we’re already this deep,” I said, smirking faintly, “maybe we could muck the lines a bit more. Officially.”

She let out a breath, somewhere between a scoff and a sigh, but she didn’t look away. She reached across the console, fingers brushing mine. She laced them together.

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

“I know,” I said. “Me too.”

“I want it.”

My heart cracked wide open. “So do I.”

I turned down a familiar road.

“This is ironic, but I actually grew up, like . . . minutes from here.”

Poppy looked over at me, her brows lifting. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Which is wild. We could’ve grown up as neighbors.”

The GPS chirped out its final command, and we pulled up to her parents’ house.

It was two stories tall with beige stone, arched windows, wrought iron railings that didn’t need to be there, and enough square footage to echo even when it was full. The lawn was too green. The hedges too sculpted.

A dozen or so cars were already parked along the edges, mostly luxury sedans and SUVs.

“Park in the gravel,” she said quietly, pointing toward a space near the side.

I eased the truck into the spot and cut the engine. I killed the headlights, climbed out, and came around to meet her on the other side.

As we reached the walkway, she slowed for a second, her hand tightening around mine.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her eyes meeting mine in the porch light. “For coming. For . . . this. All of it.”

I didn’t say anything right away. Instead, I turned to her, slid my fingers through hers again, and squeezed.

“Remember—don’t let small people make you feel smaller.”

“I’ll try,” she whispered.

“You don’t have to try alone. Not anymore.”

37

Poppy

I didn’t know why we were here. I shouldn’t have been. My sister promoting to associate partner in our father’s law firm was the epitome of nepotism. While we were at it, did it need an entire fucking gala?

I brushed a hand over my dress, trying to smooth the silk, when Dalton reached down and squeezed my hand, lacing his fingers with mine.

I couldn’t help but stare. Somehow, him touching me tonight felt more intimate than when he tied me up to the ceiling of his garage.

We finally broached the subject of Brooke in the car. He listened and reassured me that I was something more. He wanted something more.

I’d never replace Cora’s mom, but could there be a way for us to be together—truly together—while she was still his ghost? A ghost he never got closure with?

“You ready?”