Page 5 of Stay Wild Darlin’

“Yeah,” I muttered, yanking at the stupid tie. “It’s hotter than a goddamn church on a Sunday in the middle of June in here.”

Beau chuckled. “That’s exactly what I said.”

He made quick work of the tie, looping and pulling it into place before giving my shoulder a firm squeeze.

“You good?” Beau’s voice dropped slightly, that quiet reminder that he’d already told me he’d deal with me after the wedding.

I nodded, swallowing hard. No way was I making this about me. “Yeah.”

“Whose baby?”

I exhaled sharply, raking a hand through my hair. “Fuckin’ Brooke, man. She dropped the baby off this morning, said she couldn’t do it anymore, and then skipped town with some guy in a beat-up truck.”

“What the fuck?”

I shook my head. I hadn’t even begun to process any of this. My whole morning had been spent trying to figure out how to feed a newborn, scouring the internet for every single thing I needed to know. “Her diaper’s on backward, I think.”

Beau laughed and clapped a hand over my shoulder. “We’ll figure it out . . . together.”

My throat closed up, heat creeping into my chest. I wasn’t a crier. I hated it—hated the way it reminded me of how my parents had thrown me out like I was some forgotten houseplant they didn’t care about losing.

“Yeah, we always do.”

3

Poppy

“Congrats on graduating, Poppy,” Professor Don said with a quick nod.

I gave him a half-hearted wave and kept walking, passing the massive auditorium on my way to my car. I’d finished student teaching, survived the exams, and all that stood between me and an actual classroom was a pile of Washington certification paperwork. Graduation should have felt like more than this.

Heck, I hadn’t even wanted to come to graduation, but my father promised he and Mother would be there. Of course, at the last minute, their flight became inconvenient to their schedule, and suddenly, they couldn’t make it up to Isles on the West Coast in time.

Was the University of Isles in the most remote part of the Pacific Northwest? Sure. Was it possible that my entire graduating class had family there except me? Also yes.

“Whatever,” I muttered, climbing into my car.

I had a job lined up bartending in Seattle for the summer, hoping to make some money while I applied for teaching jobs.

I sighed, stretching my arms over the steering wheel before glancing in the rearview mirror. The trunk was packed to the brim, my entire life crammed into suitcases and boxes, ready for a fresh start. The drive to Seattle was long, but it was the only direction I had.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, but it still stung. No one had shown up for me. Not Lana. Not Luke. Not my parents.

That was the pattern, wasn’t it? I’d spent my whole life being second—second to someone else’s drama, someone else’s crisis, someone else’s dreams.

I’d learned early on that the only person I could count on was me. That if I wanted something, I had to chase it alone. I didn’t build walls, I built fortresses. Brick by brick, independence became my armor.

So maybe it hurt that no one came, but it didn’t break me.

With a deep breath, I pressed down on the gas, setting my sights on Seattle. If no one else was going to show up for me, then I damn well would.

I’d finally be first—to myself.

4

Poppy

Two months later