Wild as Her (Beckett Family #2)

Chapter 25

Indie

“ O kay, the choice is yours: The Office, Friends, or Golden Girls,” Wren says from beside me as she scrolls through the TV.

Her bright blonde hair is a mess on top of her head. When I knocked on her door, she still had her PJs on and told me she wasn’t changing until she had to leave for work.

“Hmm…” I mull over the options. “Office,” I respond without much thought. “I always need some Michael Scott in my life.”

I put the straw to my lips and sip from the fountain drink I bought when Wild stopped and got gas in his Bronco. I’ve been trying to make healthier choices, but dammit, I need the burn of a good Dr. Pepper right now since it would be wrong to have a stiff drink at this hour.

Am I going crazy?

I have to be. It’s the only explanation for why I can’t stop thinking about Wilder or the possibility of giving us a shot.

Wren scrolls to the most recent episode we are on and clicks play.

Pulling the throw blanket from the back of the couch, I nuzzle my way into a comfy spot.

When she told me the plan for today, I didn’t get dressed up, either. Just my usual earrings, jeans and a T-shirt. I debated about wearing my PJs over but decided against it at the last second. Sort of regretting that decision now, lying here in jeans that are too tight for comfort around my waist and calves. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking wearing skinny jeans to lay on the couch and watch TV all afternoon. Not that I had a lot of choices since I don’t own many clothes, and most of what I owned was taken on our trip and was now in my hamper.

“So, how was your trip?” Wren asks in a way that is too chipper—like she knows something she’s not sharing with the class.

“It was fine.” I shrug and fix my attention back on the office workers planning a fun run.

Run and fun… two words I’d never put together.

There’s a pregnant pause before Wren makes a sound.

“Mmhmm…”

I quickly glance over and see her staring at me, not even watching the show. Her eyes are slightly squinting as she rolls her lips in tight, lightly tapping one finger on her chin.

“It was,” I insist. “Gettin’ sick wasn’t the greatest time, but the trip wasn’t too bad.” I pull the red straw to my mouth and take another big sip.

“Indiana, I can not believe you slept with my brother again,” she says dryly, almost making me spit out my drink.

“What?!” I sit up and stare at her with an open mouth.

“Don’t you dare lie to me.” She points her finger in my direction.

My face heats, and I’m sure it’s a nice embarrassing shade of red. I can feel it crawling straight down my neck.

Usually, I’m not shy about my sex life, and I tell Wren all about my escapades. But, one, it’s embarrassing that I gave in to him when she knows my dislike for the man has always been strong. And two, he’s her brother… That’s just a weird line I won’t be crossing.

“Okay. First of all?—”

“I knew it!” She throws her head back in laughter. “I was just messin’ with you. I can’t believe you actually did it again. Oh, wait,” she puts a finger to her chin and purses her lips briefly. “Yes, I can!” She laughs harder, and tears gather in the corner of her eyes.

“ You little… ” I toss the couch pillow at her, and she catches it just as it smacks into her face, the air sending her messy hair flying.

“Oh my God, y’all crack me up,” she says, reaching for the remote and pausing the TV. “Okay, I don’t want the details, but tell me what you can without this being gross.”

“It was nothin’,” I shrug, worrying my lip.

“Right…” She continues to stare at me with a knowing look. “I can see that.”

“It wasn’t!” I insist, feeling my heart rate increase at the lie.

Wren doesn’t even blink. Her stare says she’s not moving on from this without something more to convince her.

“Okay, maybe he wants this to be a thing between us.” My words cause her face to light up like a kid on Christmas morning. “But, Wren, we fight like damn cats and dogs,” I add before she gets her hopes up too much. “It would never work. And then I would have nowhere to live… again .”

The reminder of being homeless and on the hunt for a place to live once again is just what I needed to get my mind set straight. Wild’s house has worked out perfectly for me. It’s close to my job, and there’s a fantastic work area for me to paint in—I don’t want to mess that up.

You probably already have.

Regret and uncertainty roll in my stomach like the wheels that have been spinning in my mind all morning.

“Did you fight on the trip?” Wren asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Just the usual stuff,” I shrug. “But I don’t know… It was different. And then he took care of me when I was sick, and he was so…” I shake my head, trying to think of how to explain it. “He was so different, Wren,” I say, keeping my eyes down to my hands that are fidgeting in my lap. “He wasn’t his annoying self the whole time we were gone. I actually enjoyed bein’ with him… Maybe I’m still sick,” I joke.

Because I did enjoy his company on the trip—and not just because he made me feel good, both mentally and physically.

Sure, he picks at me, but I love the back-and-forth with him—it lights something inside of me that only happens with him. It’s terrifying to know he has that power.

But I also liked seeing the sweet side of Wild. And the fact that he shared personal things with me. I felt like I really got to know a whole different side of him that he’s never shared with me before—probably because I’m always shutting him out.

“Sounds like you’ve both done some growin’.” Wren’s sweet smile does the opposite of comfort me. I don’t know that I want someone else to be on board with this crazy idea.

“But there’s also the fact that I don’t ever wanna have kids,” I add, darkening the moment.

She looks at me with sad eyes, knowing my feelings about the matter.

With a nod, her voice softens. “Have you told him that?”

“Yes. And he said he’s fine with it, that he ‘ only wants me.’”

A small smile crosses her face again.

“I know my brother, Ind. If he said he’s fine with it, he is. One thing about Wilder, when he says somethin’, he means it.”

“I don’t know what to do,” I say honestly, leaning my head back against the cushion.

Wren scoots closer, placing her hand on my arm. “Ind, I say this because I love you. Stop bein’ a stubborn mule and give him a chance. That boy has been crazy about you from day one.”

“Yeah, but?—”

“You can’t live in the past forever. People grow, and people change. Besides, we both know he did nothin’ wrong back then.”

I know she’s right. I’ve always just loved having the whole ‘day we met’ disaster as an excuse to avoid him. Everything he’s done since then, like sabotaging my dates and pulling pranks on me, has just been fuel to add to the fire.

“But what if?—”

“You can always move in with me,” she cuts in.

I swear this woman is a damn mind reader.

My gaze shifts down to the floor as I let out a sigh.

“Do you really not want kids, or are you just afraid that what happened to your mom might happen to you?”

It’s an honest question, and I can’t fault her for it. Anyone would assume that that would be my only reason for not wanting to have kids. When a girl loses her mother the way I did, it does put a different kind of fear in you. But I honestly just don’t want them—nothing against the people who do. I see the joy their children bring them, and I’m happy for them. But we all want different things in life. We all have a different path to follow—and that has never been mine.

“I don’t like kids, Wren,” I answer honestly, even though it makes me sound like a bitch. “I know people say havin’ your own is different, but I’ve never dreamed of that life. The picket fence, 2.5 kids, slavin’ over a hot stove at home all day—that’s not me. I wasn’t the little girl dreamin’ of wedding dresses and babies.”

And I really wasn’t. I didn’t want any of those things then, and I still don’t. I’ve always been more interested in just living life. Not chasing someone or pursuing a career because I was supposed to. I’ve always been drawn to living each day as it comes—enjoying the small things when they happen.

Wren’s icy blue eyes hold mine, nodding in understanding.

“Don’t get me wrong. When you and Luce have babies, I’ll be the best damn auntie you’ve ever seen. But at the end of the day, the kid goes home,” I laugh.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do with you crazy kids,” she jokes, leaning back beside me.

“If you figure it out, please let me know,” I say, glancing back to the paused TV in front of us.

The doorbell rings, and Wren jumps up to answer it. “Just give it some thought,” she says over her shoulder. “Everyone deserves a shot, and lord knows he’s been tryin’ for years.”

She opens the door and pays the man for the pizza. Already, I smell the cheesy goodness, and my mouth salivates. There aren’t a lot of delivery places Wren trusts with her allergy, so we usually have pizza from the same place every time I come up to visit.

Walking into the kitchen, I grab two slices and put them on my plate, along with some ranch dipping sauce. Wren does the same, along with a salad on the side.

How these people eat that green shit, I have no idea.

“We don’t have to talk about it anymore. But if you want to, you know my phone is always on, and my door is always open,” Wren says when we sit back down on the couch and resume our show.

“Thanks, babe,” I say as I shove the greasy goodness into my mouth, thankful that she isn’t making me continue this conversation.

We finish our pizza and watch a couple more episodes. My eyes start to grow heavy as I lay on the couch, another episode coming to an end.

Grabbing my phone, I text Wild.

Ready when you are.

Wild

Already headed your way, babycakes.

The name sends a flurry of butterflies into my stomach that quickly swoop up into my chest.

This guy and the damn names.

“I think I’m gonna head out. Thanks for entertainin’ me today,” I yawn.

“Thanks for comin’ all the way up here. I hate that I’m so far away from y’all now.”

Her living an hour away does suck. I’m hopeful she will move back to Twin Pines one day, or at least closer than she is now.

As I sit up, Wren’s phone vibrates on the cushion between us. She opens it, and a smile shoots across her face, but she quickly bites her lip to mask it, locking her screen.

“What’s that about?” I scrunch my brows together, studying her closely, knowing Wren’s aversion to giving too many juicy details.

“What?” she asks innocently, her phone going down to her side.

“Who is he?” I ask, motioning to the phone.

“No one. Just a friend from work sent me a funny joke.”

She is doing her best to convince me, but like hell am I letting this go after she just made me open up to her a little while ago.

“Right… What was it?” I question suspiciously.

“What?”

“The joke. What was the joke?”

“Oh, uh. I don’t remember.” Her eyes go back to the TV.

“So open your phone and read it to me. Or better yet,” I reach for her phone, but she beats me to it, holding it tight to her chest.

“What’s brown and sticky?” she blurts.

My head tilts to the side, eyeing her suspiciously. “That was the joke you couldn’t remember two seconds ago? Four words?”

“Yes.” She swallows nervously.

“Okay, what’s brown and sticky?”

“A stick,” she smiles.

The sounds of metaphorical crickets fill the room as we stare at each other.

“That’s not even funny, Wren,” I deadpan.

“I thought it was,” she shrugs.

“You can’t hide?—”

A knock at the door sounds, and Wren jumps off the couch like it’s Publishers Clearing House about to give her a giant cardboard check.

“Hey!” Wren greets, throwing her arms around her brother. “I heard you had a good trip. Glad to see you made it back in one piece.”

“Yeah. It was an interestin’ trip for sure,” he says with a smile.

Wild walks into the room, and it’s instantly harder for me to breathe. His eyes soften when they find mine, making me want to walk over and be swallowed up in his arms—definitely a new feeling.

Well, a new feeling that I’m a teensy bit more willing to acknowledge now, anyway.

“Hey, Wildflower. You ready to go?”

The way his white t-shirt pokes out from beneath his gray jacket is doing something stupid to me.

My ovaries need to get their shit together.

“Yeah, just need to grab my bag and shoes.” I holler over my shoulder as I walk to the kitchen for my things. When I come back, I’m surprised to see another person beside Wild.

“Hey, Carson. What are you doin’ here?” I glance at Wren, whose cheeks are now the same shade as the pink roses on her coffee table.

“I told Wren I’d bring her some of this rigatoni I made last night.” He holds up the container of food.

“Why didn’t you just have Wild bring it?” I ask, glancing between the two who have always sworn that nothing was going on between them.

Wren shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Carson looks like he has no time for my questions, and I get the feeling he’s not going to give me an answer.

“Wren’s gonna run me over to the car shop in a little while,” he states dryly.

“Right…” I nod and shift my eyes back over to Wren, who nervously tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

When the hell did she brush it?

Reaching over, Wren takes the container from Carson, opening it to peek inside.

“You didn’t need to bring so much,” she says, peering back up at him and closing the lid. “But thank you. This looks amazing.”

The two share a moment, and I feel myself about to do that dumb thing where I say something without thinking.

“C’mon, Ind. That smells fuckin’ delicious, and I’m gonna feel like a real dick if I steal my sister’s food.”

Thankful that he interrupted me from embarrassing Wren, I follow Wild and give Wren a big hug on my way out the door.

“You have SO much explainin’ to do, missy,” I whisper in her ear and feel her stiffen.

“Bye, guys,” I start to pull the front door shut and see Wild climbing into his Bronco. Pausing, I lean my head back in the door and meet Wren’s piercing blue eyes. “Pics or it didn’t happen,” I say with a wink before pulling the door shut—her wide, baby blues burned into my memory as I laugh all the way to the curb.