Chapter 13
Indie
M y alarm is set for an ungodly hour, and that is how I know it is officially time to leave for our trip.
The last couple of weeks have been uneventful. Just the usual back-and-forth with Wild whenever I see him and working at the garden center.
Things are still so weird with Wild. Sometimes, he’s quiet, and I wonder what’s wrong. But that doesn’t usually last too long before he’s back to his usual pain-in-the-ass self.
I toss the last of my cosmetics into the small suitcase just as my phone lights up beside it.
Auntie
All set for your trip?
Yup. Leaving first thing tomorrow.
Auntie
Good deal. Make sure you let me know when you get there. I hear there’s supposed to be some bad weather in that area this weekend, so you drive careful. Tell that Wild fella to do the same so I don’t have to come kick his little ass.
Her spunk makes me laugh. I have no doubt she would fly down to Oklahoma from her little cabin in the mountains of California to do just that.
Will do, Auntie. I love you.
Auntie
Love you, too.
The phone dies as soon as I read the text.
“Shit,” I huff, hopping off the bed in search of my charger, wondering why it’s not in the wall outlet.
Walking out to the living room, I spot Wild sprawled out on the couch with his eyes closed, listening to the sports game on the TV. He’s in nothing but those black silky basketball shorts he spends most of his time in when he’s at home.
“Did you steal my charger?” I ask, standing in front of him and trying my best not to get distracted by his bare chest.
He peeks one eye open at me. “Borrowed it, yes.”
“Well, give it back. I need it. Why did you go in my room without askin’?”
“Calm down, woman. I didn’t think it’d be such a big deal.” He slowly stands and walks to the kitchen.
Unplugging his phone from the charger, he pulls the white cord and box from the wall outlet.
“Here. Still perfectly fine.” He places the charger in my hand.
Thoughts of all the bitchy things I could say jump into my mind. But do I really want to start another battle with him? Is this even worth it? Maybe I am overreacting… a touch .
“Look, we’re fixin’ to be stuck together for a week. Can we just be civil? I don’t touch your shit, and you don’t touch mine?” I ask.
He thinks for a second, opening his mouth and closing it again.
Finally, he nods. “Yes, ma’am. I think we can do that,” he responds. “I just borrowed it since I packed mine and put my bag in the car already. Like I said, didn’t think you’d mind if I used it for a quick charge before bed.”
Under any other circumstance, I wouldn’t mind. There’s just something about this man that makes me feel like I need to act like a bitch any time I can. Like I need to do anything to make him see he’s not into me and for me to remind myself that I’m not into him.
I grab the charger from his outstretched hand and walk back to my room, a deep feeling of regret already brewing. Being stuck in a car with this man is going to be one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done.
But oddly, I want to do it anyway.
Rolling out of my bed before the sunlight can even peek into my window, I toss the comforter back over the mattress in a shitty attempt at making my bed.
Happy enough with my efforts, I place the little purple sloth stuffed animal Wilder gave me at the carnival this past summer in the center of my pillow. The sleepy little creatures have always been my favorite. When Wild gave me this one, I debated denying the gift, but he was too damn cute to deny… The sloth, not Wild .
After throwing on some clothes and brushing my teeth, I groggily walk to the door without a care in the world about makeup or fixing my hair. If someone has a problem with the way I look, they don’t have to fucking look.
“Playlist is cued up, a large variety of snacks are available, and the luggage is in the back… We are officially on the road.”
Wild pops his sunglasses over his eyes and smirks as he puts the vehicle in drive. The sun’s not even fully out yet, but who am I to judge?
Getting up early is not something I enjoy doing. When Wild offered to drive first, I was all for it. I’ll let him drive the entire trip if he wants to. Not to toot my own horn, but I’m a helluva good passenger princess.
This early fall road trip is something I look forward to every year. All of the leaves on the trees have started changing to yellows, oranges, and reds. The air has a crispness to it that I can’t seem to inhale deeply enough into my lungs. The deeper I draw my breath in, the more I want.
“You got the address for the hotel?” Wild asks.
“Yup. I’ll grab my phone when we get close.”
Last week, when I was making the booking, I had a feeling one room wouldn’t be a good idea. But I’m an adult. I can share a room with another person. It’s not like we have to share a bed.
Tucking into the seat, I pull my little blanket up over my shoulder and let my heavy eyes close.
I wake sometime later to the high-pitched shriek of what I can only assume is Wild singing.
At least, I hope he’s singing. Maybe he’s having a heart attack, and I should open my eyes and help him.
“About time you woke up, Sleepin’ Beauty,” he says, peering over at me as we sit at the stop light. There’s a gray overcast, making it hard to tell what time of day it is.
I glance at the time on the radio and see I’ve only been asleep for just over an hour. Sitting up, I take in my surroundings and the large coffee sitting in the cupholder next to me.
“Holy hell, I knew there was a reason I should bring you,” I declare, grabbing the white and green cup from the space between us.
“Who says that’s for you?” He looks over again, peering at the cup in my hand and back up to me.
Looking back down, I see the other cup has droplets of coffee on the lid, implying someone has drank from it.
“Well, I doubt you bought yourself two cups. And if you did,” I shrug one shoulder, “tough shit, this is mine now,” I add, taking a large swig of the steaming hot goodness, scalding my mouth in the process.
Mmm. Peppermint mocha, my favorite.
Wild scoffs a laugh as he pulls the other cup up to his mouth and drinks.
“I’m just teasin’, Wildflower. Of course I bought you one. Didn’t want your crabby-ass bitin’ my head off when you woke up.”
“Why do you call me that?” I blurt out, hating myself for asking.
I’ve always ignored the nickname—not wanting him to know that it had any effect on me.
His hazel eyes sweep over me and then back out to the street in front of us. The light turns green, and the vehicle begins to accelerate forward.
“Because you are one,” he smirks. “Beautiful, carefree, …wild.” He grins in my direction and puts his eyes back on the road. “But you’re not just any wildflower,” he shakes his head. “No, ma’am. You’re an Indian Paintbrush.”
“Why’s that?” I can’t stop myself from asking as images of the green flower dipped in red come to mind.
“That red hair, for starters,” he motions to the messy bun on my head. “And you’re an artist, but that’s kinda the obvious one.”
His eyes peer over, and a soft smile forms at the corners of his mouth. “Mostly, though, it’s because of the way you always stand out amongst all the others around you. They may be beautiful in their own ways, but they ain’t got nothin’ on you,” he trails off.
The sweet words cause me to shift in my seat and look forward.
“Wild, I’m gonna kick your ass. Knock it off,” I warn, peeking over at him again.
This isn’t weird as hell… Why is he being sweet to me?
“What?” he asks innocently. “You’re so f?—”
“Okay, Casanova,” I cut in before he can continue. “It’s not gonna work on me.” I roll my eyes and turn to face the window, not wanting him to see the blush I know he’s causing.
“Trust me, honey-bun, I know sweet words ain’t what you like.” There’s a new delicious huskiness to his voice that has the air growing thick, causing a warm feeling to grow in my stomach.
This mother… he’s gonna start his shit already.
My eyes jump over to him as I glare. He’s biting back a mischievous smirk, and I hate how good he looks doing it.
I wish I were the one biting that lip.
No! Dammit, Indie.
I probably should have gotten laid before going on this trip.
“You know, I looked them up once. Some people call them prairie-fire. That’s definitely you, my little firecracker.” He quickly pats my knee over the center console, using his other hand to flip on his blinker and switch lanes.
Little firecracker. Another name he calls me that always makes me smile. I like to think he says it because I’m the life of the party, and I make everything more fun—nothing to do with being explosive, occasionally unpredictable, and dangerous to anyone who gets too close.
Accepting his answer, I don’t respond.
Sliding my legs up into the seat, I turn to my side again and close my eyes, my way of avoiding the conversation. It seems I can’t make up my mind. When he’s sweet, I want to get away from him, just like I want to when he’s bothering me. One thing is for sure: I really need to figure out what I want.
A new song comes on the radio, and Wild turns the volume up. This guy and his classic rock.
Not that I’m complaining; I love all music: country, rock, oldies, and even some rap music on occasion. I’m definitely not a music snob—I respect all artists’ work.
I usually have a road trip playlist set up with mostly 80s and 90s rock music since I used to take the drive with my dad every year. The songs kind of became a tradition to listen to. But there’s no way I’m telling him that.
The sounds of multiple classic rock bands fill the car for the next hour as we make our way down the long, vacant highway. With nothing to look at but the lengthy stretch of flat land for miles and miles as far as the eye can see, I get lost in the lyrics.
Songs about love. Songs about the crazy things it makes people do—the way it makes people feel.
Just as another song comes to an end, I reach over and turn up the heater, really wishing I would have put my hoodie up in the seat with me instead of packing it in my suitcase. This little flimsy blanket just isn’t enough. Most people would say it’s not cold enough for a jacket yet, but I’m not most people.
Wild eyes me for a brief second before unbuckling and tearing his shirt off over his head. I’m momentarily drooling at the view and have to use my hand to push my damn mouth shut.
“What’s this for?” The words come out a little higher than I intend them to as I eye the shirt now in my hand.
“I’m fuckin’ cookin’ over here,” he says as he places his seatbelt back over his lap.
“Well, crack your window. Or better yet…” I reach over to turn the heater back off, but his hand shoves mine away before I can.
“Leave it,” he demands, placing his wrist back on the steering wheel. “I’m fine. You’re cold, and my job is to take care of you on this trip.”
“What?” I sit up in my seat with a furrowed brow. “I didn’t say you could come because I needed a babysitter. If that’s what you think I need, then let’s just turn this car around now.”
I keep my eyes pinned on him. He glances back and forth from me to the empty road.
“That’s not what I meant. I just mean I want you to be comfortable and not have any stress or worries durin’ this trip.” He pats my leg over the center console. “My job is to make sure it’s as good of a time for you as possible… And for me,” he adds, seeing I’m about to object again.
Shaking my head, I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off.
“I know you didn’t ask me to. I gave myself the job.” His grip tightens, squeezing my thigh. “I’ll be here to give you everything and anything you need this week.” A sly smile creeps to the corner of his mouth as he winks—he fucking winks.
And just like that, I feel the treacherous winged creatures in my stomach again. Those little butterfly bitches are probably in there waving their little Wilder Beckett flags right now.
His muscles flex as he turns the wheel onto the exit, and I find it next to impossible to take my eyes off of the veins protruding from his forearm. The fact that simply watching him makes me have this kind of reaction has me realizing it’s been way too damn long.
“I need to get laid.” The words pass my lips, and I slam my hand to my mouth.
What the hell?
Wild’s eyes—wide as saucers now—slide over to me, his eyebrows practically touching his hairline. A huge-ass grin morphs across his smug face.
“What was that?” he taunts, lifting one brow higher and tilting his head.
Fuck my life. Why did that come out of my mouth?
“Nothin’,” I bite out, crossing my arms across my chest and positioning my body away from him.
“Oh no, no, no . We are definitely talkin’ about that ,” he declares.
Not wanting to get into my sex life with him, but also knowing he won’t drop the subject until he has an answer, I turn back to him with a sigh.
“I’m just in a dry spell. It’ll pass. Maybe you can be my wingman one night on this trip.”
He eyes me suspiciously with a narrowed gaze, his lips rolling between his teeth as he studies me briefly.
“Like hell. I’ll do you one better, Wildflower.”
He pulls off the road into the dirt parking lot on the side of a little gas station.
“What are you doin’? We have snacks and plenty of gas,” I state as he puts the car in park. “Please tell me I’m not travelin’ with a child, and you need the bathroom again …” I lift my head to the ceiling in annoyance.
He turns the ignition off and positions his body to face me fully with his back to the door.
“Me and you.” He lifts his chin at me. “This can be our weekend. This trip. No one has to know a thing about it.”
“Bless your heart,” I laugh as he maintains a serious expression.
When he still says nothing, my jaw drops in disbelief. “Are you outta your damn mind? In what world would that be a good idea, Wild?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “It would only be a big deal if you made it one, Ind.”
I can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. How he thinks us being together is a good idea, or how he believes that things would still be the same once we got back home, I have no clue.
My flabbers have officially been gasted.
But on the other hand…
Maybe I need to really get him out of my system once and for all. Perhaps I just need to see that what we had wasn’t all that, and my memory of that one day we had together wasn’t all I’ve chalked it up to be.
There’s even a chance I will stop lusting after my best friend’s brother—and my roommate—if we just bang it out a few times…
My eyes peel across his bare chest and down his arms to the hand resting on top of the steering wheel.
Oh, the sacrifices I make.
And who knows, maybe this will be a good time to test this out. See exactly what it would be like to be together.
Taking a deep breath, I exhale quickly. “Fine. But this is on my terms. Got it?” I point my finger at him like I have any damn control right now.
His eyes light up and look as if he wants to eat me alive.
And fuck I want to let him.
“Of course,” he beams with a wide grin, biting back a smile as he reaches for his shirt and tosses it back over his head.
He grabs the ball cap from the dashboard next and pulls it over his messy blonde locks.
“I’ll keep my shirt on so you ain’t too tempted to seduce me while I’m drivin’.”
He may be joking, but little does he know, that’s actually the smartest thing he’s done thus far.
Starting up the engine again, he shoots me a panty-dropping smile before putting the car into reverse and getting us back on the highway that leads to unknown possibilities.
What the hell did I just get myself into?
And why can’t I wait to find out…