: Chapter 12

“Holy crap. If you have sexy lingerie under there, I might consider switching teams,” Elijah teased.

I smiled and did a twirl. “You like it?”

“You look smokin’, Sloane.”

I loved the color of this dress, and even I had to admit it hugged me in all the right places. It was a simple slip silhouette with spaghetti straps, but the cowl-neck front showed the right amount of cleavage and made my body into an hourglass. “I figured this beautiful, old mansion on the beach deserved more than the boring little black dress I usually go to these things in.”

“Riiight. That dress is for the venue.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Are you seriously going to tell me you didn’t think of a certain blue-eyed Adonis when you were picking out that dress?”

“Absolutely not,” I answered waaay too quickly.

He chuckled. “Whatever. What’s going on with him? Anything new happen since he showed up at your house and took your dad on a date?”

I found lipstick in my purse and stood in front of the mirror lining my lips as I spoke. “I haven’t heard from him. It’s for the best.” I wouldn’t admit it, but I was a little disappointed. Wilder hadn’t popped in after dropping Dad off after the game, and I knew he’d been in New York the last couple of days. I kept expecting him to show up at the office or the bar. But I’m sure he was busy.

Elijah made a face. “Why? You have to be attracted to him. The man is a work of art. If they hung his mug at the Louvre, I might consider going to a boring-ass museum.”

“He’s handsome, yes. And I’m actually surprised how much we have in common. But he’s a playboy.”

Elijah shrugged. “Who cares? You don’t want a relationship right now, anyway. What’s wrong with having a little fun with the guy?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but then shut it. Twice.

Elijah lifted a perfectly groomed brow. “Got nothing, huh?”

I squinted at him. “Shut up.”

“Sloane, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. And he’s the perfect candidate for a fling. He’s a busy guy who lives on another continent. Can’t get too attached when you’re not seeing each other all the time.”

“I work for his dad.”

“Big deal. You don’t work for Wilder, and he doesn’t work for his father, it seems.”

“We have completely different lifestyles. The incredible mansion next door where the wedding is being held is owned by the father of the groom. It’s their summer place. And this hotel we’re in right now? They own that, too. This is Wilder’s social circle.”

“Who gives a shit? None of that matters, especially not if you’re keeping it casual and having a good time.”

“I don’t know.” I sighed. “But we should get going. They’re using the library as a bridal suite. We should shoot some pictures of it.”

Elijah stood. “Okay, but if the bride asks you to fill in for a missing bridesmaid again, you’re saying no. I’ll put the dress on rather than have you take that one off.”

“Why aren’t the emergency spray-tan police here?” Elijah whispered.

I giggled. “I think they ran out of solution after using it all on Bridezilla. I can’t believe she showed up like that.”

The Bridezilla we were referring to wasn’t today’s bride, fortunately. It was Piper, the horrendous one from last time. Today’s bride was sweet as could be. She hadn’t even flinched when Piper walked in looking like the Great Pumpkin. I still couldn’t believe the woman had showed up looking exactly like what had made her throw a hissy fit at her own wedding. Unbelievable. So far Piper’s was the only face I recognized from last time, though I suspected many of the groomsmen would be familiar since the series was based on fraternity brothers.

“Is everyone ready to let the guys in?” the mother of the bride asked the room. “I thought it would be nice to make the introductions in here, rather than as you’re about to walk down the aisle, since many of you haven’t met your partners yet.”

A murmur of sures went around the room before she opened the door to the library. The first man to walk in was none other than Wilder. He flashed a Hollywood-worthy smile that came with a shy, aw-shucks wave.

God, he really is adorable. It struck me as an odd thing to think about a six-foot-two, broad-shouldered professional rugby player, yet he somehow pulled it off. Freaking adorable.

The mother of the bride pointed to the ladies standing closest to us—Bridezilla and a pretty blonde who looked like she might be a model. “Wilder, your partner is Amanda.”

I frowned. Great.

Amanda leaned over to Piper and whispered, “Oh, wow. Is he single?”

Piper nodded. “He’s always single. Wilder is a lot of fun, but don’t expect more than that.”

Amanda licked her lips. “That’s okay. Fun is all I’m looking for.”

I felt a sinking feeling in my chest, like someone releasing the air from a balloon inside.

Elijah scooted closer as I stared down at the ground. “Apparently I’m not the only one who likes your dress.”

I looked up to meet a set of stunning blue eyes, and that stupid balloon under my rib cage filled back up with air—at least halfway. Wilder offered a slight nod before walking over to his smiling partner.

“Let’s move to the back,” Elijah said, “so I can take some candids of this crew.”

“Okay.” I tried not to pay much attention to Wilder and his pretty partner, but my eyes had a mind of their own. Amanda was a touchy-feely one. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before the ceremony started because I could’ve given myself a headache with all the teeth grinding I was doing.

At the cocktail hour, I took a glass of wine to a quiet table on the outside deck overlooking the ocean and typed some notes about the wedding into my phone for my article. It was beautiful here. The mansion sat on a bluff, and the smell of salt water drifted through the air. The distant sound of waves crashing relaxed me more than the wine.

Then I felt eyes on me. I turned and found Wilder standing in the doorway. I thought for sure he’d come over, especially because I was sitting all alone, but instead he lifted his hand in the type of wave you’d give a casual acquaintance and walked back inside. It left me confused, like maybe I’d done something to upset him and didn’t realize it.

Though when the reception started, he didn’t look upset. In fact, he was all smiles with his partner in his arms as they swayed to the music.

Elijah noticed me watching. “She’s his partner. They have to dance together.”

He’d said it to make me feel better, but all I could think was, I was his partner last time. Is that the only reason he danced with me?

Over the next hour, my eyes caught with Wilder’s a few times, but he always looked away. There was no flirting, no secret grins, no winks—nothing I’d come to expect from him. And that might in and of itself have been the problem—I’d come to expect something from him.

In between my sulking, I chatted with some of the other guests at my table. One of them was a nice-looking man probably ten years older than me. He was seated two chairs over, but when the table emptied except for the two of us, he got up and took the seat next to me.

“I hate weddings,” he said. “How about you?”

I laughed. “Same.”

He motioned between us. “And the only thing worse than being seated at the single-friend table is being seated at the kiddie table.”

“I’m actually here working.”

“Ouch.” He reached for his stomach like he’d been punched in the gut. “I stand corrected. There is a shittier table than the kiddie table. The employee table.”

I laughed again.

The man extended his hand with a smile. “Joe.”

“Sloane.” We shook.

“So what kind of work do you do, pretending to be a guest at a wedding? Wait—you’re not an undercover bodyguard or something?”

“Definitely not.”

He rubbed his chin. “Food critic?”

“Nope. But you’re getting warmer.”

Joe and I talked for ten minutes. He was funny, with a self-deprecating humor I liked, so when he asked me to dance, I should’ve said yes easily.

“Umm…”

“You look like you’re on the fence, so let me get my hard sell in. I’m not a very good dancer. I’ll probably step on at least one of your toes. But…” He held up a finger. “I did grab the cologne bottle without my contacts in earlier, so I probably smell minty fresh. It turns out I slapped mouthwash all over my neck.”

I smiled. “Now how can I pass up such an enticing offer?”

Joe stood and held out his hand to me. I scanned the room as we walked, hating that I was looking for Wilder on my way to dance with another man. It was a slow song, so he wrapped one hand around my back and led with the other. Unlike my dance partner at the last wedding, Joe left room for Jesus. Yet I still felt tense dancing with him.

I took a deep breath, trying to relax a bit, and the minty scent of mouthwash washed over me. I laughed. “You weren’t kidding. You smell like Scope.”

“I was already running late and didn’t have time to shower again.”

“It doesn’t smell half bad. Clean, at least.”

Joe smiled and attempted to turn us, but his footwork did one thing and mine did another, and he wound up stomping on my pinky toe. I lifted my foot and winced.

“So sorry,” he said.

“You really didn’t exaggerate anything, huh?”

We both laughed. I was still smiling when my gaze moved over his shoulder. And landed on a man who was not smiling. Wilder. His stare was intense, but his face was expressionless. Like earlier, he soon turned away, this time without even the casual wave.

After that, I just wanted to go home. But that wasn’t happening until tomorrow since we were four hours from the city. I found Elijah and told him I was tired and ready to head back to the hotel next door. He hadn’t found a cute waiter this time, so he left with me.

Back in my room, I changed out of my dress, tied my hair up, and washed the makeup from my face. I’d just slipped under the covers when there was a light knock at my door.

My heart raced upon seeing Wilder through the peephole. The rest of my body joined in when I opened the door. Unknotted bow tie hanging loose around his neck, mussed hair, and a hint of five-o’clock shadow peppering his angular jaw—the man was a sight for sore eyes. He held up a bottle of wine, and his presumption pissed me off.

“Why aren’t you with the blonde?”

He frowned. “Because I couldn’t do it—even though I wanted to.”

I folded my arms across my chest, feeling anger rise within me. “You probably had too much to drink. It happens to men.”

Wilder closed his eyes. “That is not what I meant. I meant I wanted to fuck some random woman and not be here right now.”

I started to shut the door. “Then why don’t you go do that?”

He stuck his foot in, stopping it. “Fuck, this is coming out all wrong.”

I opened the door halfway back and sighed. “What do you want from me, Wilder?”

He raked a hand through his hair. “Can I come in? So we can talk?”

I wasn’t sure what was left to say, but I would never be able to sleep without hearing whatever it was, so I gritted my teeth and stepped aside.

Wilder took two steps into the room and stopped, staring at the bed. He shook his head. “Actually, your first instinct was right. You shouldn’t trust me in here with you. How about we go for a walk? Maybe on the beach?” He caught my eyes. “Please?”

“Fine. But I need to get dressed.”

At least the shirt I’d answered the door in tonight was longer than the one I’d greeted him with the other morning. But I still needed to put on jeans and shoes. Wilder let the door shut behind him and stood just on the other side of it while I got ready.

Neither of us said a word as we walked through the hotel and took a set of stairs built into the bluff down to the beach. It was a beautiful night with a warm breeze and twinkling stars, and the rhythmic sound of the ocean hitting the shoreline tried its best to lull me into relaxing.

“You looked really beautiful tonight,” Wilder finally said.

“Thanks.”

“Green is your color.”

I smiled, and Wilder made small talk about the wedding as we walked side by side along the water’s edge. When it seemed he’d run out of ways to fill the space, he stopped.

“Wanna sit?”

I shrugged. “Whatever.”

He took off his tuxedo jacket and laid it on the sand, gesturing for me to sit before bending and taking the spot next to it. He looked out at the ocean for a long time before speaking.

“I’m sorry I acted like an ass tonight,” he said.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Maybe not, but I was avoiding you.”

I shifted to face him. “Why?”

He shrugged. “I was trying to do you a favor.”

“I don’t understand, Wilder.”

“I like you, Sloane. I feel like there’s something here, something more than physical. That’s not something I’m used to. We’re built different. Physical is usually enough for me. It’s not for you. And you’ve been hurt recently. I don’t want to do it again. My track record sucks. I know you haven’t even agreed to go out with me, but I think you feel what I feel, too.” He caught my eyes. “Am I wrong?”

My instinct was to say he was, to keep my guard up and protect myself. But he was being honest and vulnerable with me, so I couldn’t. My shoulders slumped. “No, you’re not.”

A cocky grin slid across his face. I pointed to it. “Don’t gloat.”

Wilder chuckled and bumped his shoulder with mine. After, he held out his hand. I hesitated, but eventually slipped my hand into his.

We both stared straight ahead for a while in silence. When Wilder finally started speaking, he kept his gaze forward. “As long as we’re both being honest, I want to come clean about something.”

“What’s that?”

“I wasn’t totally honest with you last week at the bar. Or at least I was strategic in the way I answered.”

On reflex, I started to pull my hand from his. But Wilder tightened his grip. “No. You can’t have it back yet. I’m gonna need this for a few more minutes.”

I looked over, but Wilder had shut his eyes. “The other night you asked me what my longest relationship had been. My answer wasn’t a lie, but I skirted what you were trying to get at. I said I hadn’t dated anyone for more than a few months since college. What I didn’t say was that I had two long-term relationships before that. In high school, I had a girlfriend for two and a half years. Alyssa and I met in tenth grade. Senior year we started partying a lot, mostly typical eighteen-year-old stuff—drinking, smoking pot. One night, we were at some kid’s house party. His parents weren’t home. Some of the people hanging out were doing more than drinking beer and spiked seltzers. They were taking pills, Percocet and Xanax, but Alyssa played soccer and was going to college on a full ride, and I played on two rugby teams and had already been recruited to Harvard to play for them, so we didn’t screw with that stuff. Plus, I had a game the next morning, so I left the party early. Alyssa wanted me to stay, but I always made rugby my priority.” He paused and swallowed. “After I left, Alyssa wound up taking a Percocet since her friends were all doing it, and I wasn’t around to tell her to cut the shit. As far as I know, it was the first time she’d ever taken a pill that wasn’t prescribed to her. Turned out to be laced with fentanyl. She and two of her friends overdosed and died that night.”

My hand flew to my chest. “Oh my God. That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. “She wouldn’t have taken them if I’d stayed, if I had made getting her home safe my priority.”

“No, Wilder. You can’t blame yourself for a decision someone else made.”

“After it happened, I went on a tear. I got into a lot of fights and caused trouble—even got suspended for a few games for starting a brawl that involved half our team. I was close with my old varsity rugby coach—still am to this day, though I need to get my ass to visit him more often than I do. He’s got dementia now. But after Alyssa died, he gave me some leeway. When things spiraled, he sat me down and set me right, told me I was going to lose everything I’d worked for.” Wilder nodded. “He kept on me, made sure I stayed in line. Eventually my anger leveled out, or at least I learned how to channel it onto the field. A few months later, I went to college and didn’t look back. I swore off relationships after that, at least for the next three years. Then I met Whitney.”

Wilder stopped. He picked up a small rock and skimmed it into the ocean. It bounced a few times before I lost track of it in the darkness. “We were together a year.” His jaw tightened as he looked straight ahead again, and I watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

“Oh God,” I said. “Did she … pass away, too?”

Wilder shook his head. “No. She destroyed me instead.”

I wasn’t sure what to say, so I stayed quiet. Eventually, Wilder cleared his throat. “That was my last relationship. It’s been ten years.” He paused. “A few months ago, when I went to visit Coach Evans, he asked me if I’d found a nice girl to settle down with yet. I laughed and said what I usually say—that I’m not the settling-down type. He patted my knee and told me I shouldn’t be afraid, that I needed to stop letting the things that happened years ago keep me from finding love again. I blew off the comment. I’ve always told myself I wasn’t afraid of shit. I just like my life the way it is. At least until recently.” Wilder turned and looked into my eyes. “Until the day I met you. Now I can’t stop wondering if maybe there’s something to what he said.”

I squeezed his hand. “Thank you for sharing all of that with me.”

“I’ve never told anyone that story about Alyssa, and I don’t think I’ve said her or Whitney’s name in ten years.”

I leaned my head on Wilder’s shoulder. “Talking about things is usually the first step toward healing. I don’t tell too many people, but I go to therapy.”

“I don’t have a therapist, but I have Coach, my old rugby coach. He’s who I’ve always talked to. He’s forgetful and confused a lot of days now, yet he’s still better at seeing what’s going on with me than I am.”

“He was your coach in college?”

“Middle school and high school. But we’ve stayed close over the years. We talk on the phone every week. I don’t get to see him enough lately because I’ve been so busy. But I need to rectify that.”

We sat for a few more minutes, staring at the ocean. What he’d shared was a lot for me to take in, but I imagined it was tougher for him to let out. Then a few noisy people pulled our attention back to the staircase where we’d come down from the hotel.

Wilder dropped his head. “Shit.”

“What?”

“It’s the guys. We have this tradition whenever we’re anywhere near water—started the first year of college, the night we all got inducted into our fraternity. It’s the reason I don’t invite any of them to my dad’s summer home in the Hamptons anymore.”

I was about to ask what the tradition was, but I didn’t have to. The crew of guys weren’t even at the bottom of the staircase yet and were already stripping out of their clothes as they ran toward us.

“Fuck.” Wilder stood and waved his hands in the air. “They don’t see us sitting here.” He shouted to his friends, “Hey, jackasses! I’m sitting here with a lady.”

One guy yelled as he struggled to pull his pants off. “She’s a lucky freaking girl.”

Another guy yanked his shirt over his head. “Get your ass in the water, Hayes! Or you know what happens—we’re carrying you in with all your clothes on.”

Wilder shook his head. “Sorry. They’re wasted and a bunch of idiots sober. I’m not going to be able to stop them.”

I smiled and climbed to my feet. “It’s okay. I should get some sleep anyway. We’re leaving early in the morning.”

Wilder nodded toward the stairs. “I’ll walk you back.”

“You don’t have to. You should enjoy your friends.”

“Trust me, I’m not going to miss anything. Those jackasses are going to be in there floating on their backs with their shriveled dicks hanging out for a while. I’ll come back down after I walk you.”

I chuckled. “Okay.”

When we got to my hotel room door, Wilder took both my hands. “Is having dinner with a friend who is a man against the rules of your moratorium?”

I nibbled my bottom lip. “Friends, huh?”

“Think about it.” Wilder held out his cell phone. “Can we at least exchange numbers in case you decide in my favor?”

I smiled. “Sure.”

“’Night, Cupcake.” He took his phone back and kissed my forehead. “I’m here for another week. I’ll leave the ball in your court.”

“Good night, Wilder.”

Inside my room, I leaned my forehead against the door, my chest feeling full again. The balloon in there was getting a workout today. Damn, that man is so much more than meets the eye.