Wild as Her (Beckett Family #2)

Chapter 31

Indie

A s I scroll through my phone, song after song, I still turn up empty-handed. What do you even play at an event like this?

The fundraiser is this coming Saturday, and none of the songs on my list feel right. I only have less than a week to figure this out.

Deciding this is a problem for another day, I close out of my phone and toss it on the couch beside me.

“Why did I think this was gonna be so easy?” I mumble to myself, staring up at the ceiling.

“Talkin’ to yourself again, honey-pie?”

Wild’s voice jolts me from my slumped position on the couch.

Though the room is only lit by the small side lamp next to me, my wanton eyes rake over him. He looks delicious, with his hair a mess— he’s clearly been running his hands through it —and he has a white and gray t-shirt plastered to his chest. When my eyes finally make their way up to his, I’m greeted by that devilish smirk that makes his dimple cave in.

“Jesus, what time is it?” I ask, realizing that Wild being home means it’s getting later than I thought it was.

“Oh, c’mon now, Wildflower. You don’t have to pretend you weren’t waitin’ up for me,” he says, tossing his bag onto the floor at the door. “You needin’ another ride on the mustache express, Ms. Jones?”

The way his stupid mustache lifts when he quirks his lip causes the warmth—that only he causes—to grow in my stomach.

“I don’t think I can roll my eyes any harder,” I deadpan.

His eyes trail over my bare legs. “I’m up for that challenge.”

When Wild’s on a shift at the station, I’m in control of the thermostat. It’s nice being able to walk around in whatever I want for a few days.

He steps closer, suffocating me with his warm, delicious scent. The feelings I have never been able to fight for this man ring loudly in my chest as I stare into his playful hazel eyes.

Fuck, why do I want to ask him how his day was and then wrap my arms around him and let him carry me to his bed?

The thought hits me like a ton of bricks.

When did this get so… real?

I know he wanted this to be more , but when did it happen? And why the hell am I the last to know?

Thoughts of him being with someone else or me leaving here guts me. I’ve never allowed myself to get this deep into a relationship with anyone. But I blindsided myself by thinking this wasn’t real. My feelings were growing the whole time against my own wishes.

Maybe I should leave before this gets harder.

“What’s runnin’ through that pretty mind, Wildflower?” Wild kneels in front of me as I’m seated on the couch, rubbing his thumb over my bare knee.

“I… I don’t know,” I say in a quiet voice. “I think this is gettin’ to be too much, Wild. Me… livin’ here. Maybe I should leave.” I start to stand, but he stops me, placing his strong hand on my waist.

“Woah woah. Talk to me, Ind. What’s wrong? I was only jokin’ around.” The concern lacing his voice matches the worry on his face.

“Maybe I should go stay with Wren for a while. Just clear my head. I’ll start lookin’ for a new place to stay. You can?—”

“Babe. Look at me.” His voice is commanding but not harsh.

Slowly, I look up, but that headstrong part of me stops me from meeting his stare, knowing that looking into his warm eyes, which have grown to feel like home, will be my undoing.

“Ind, you are the most stubborn damn woman I’ve ever known in my entire life,” he says matter-of-factly.

“My, how sweet .” My voice is laced with sarcasm as I’m finally brave enough to meet his eyes that shine with a smile from the connection he’s been waiting for from me.

“I’m not done,” he shakes his head. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy… And not in a bad way… most of the time,” he softly laughs. “You’re all I think about. I know you’re scared of havin’ feelin’s for me. I know you think you’d be takin’ something from me if I stayed with you. But I’m tellin’ you right now, I don’t want anything else. I just want you.” His hand tightens around my waist, and I remain silent, soaking in his words, wishing I could believe them.

Leaning in closer, he continues. “I love that when I’m with you, I feel the most myself—I don’t gotta hide behind jokes. We can just sit and not say a damn word for hours watchin’ stupid-ass TV shows, and I don’t feel like I need to fill the room with laughter. There’s no uncomfortableness, no wall that I feel I need to push everything behind. I don’t gotta put on this ‘I don’t care about anything’ act to make you happy or accept me.”

He brushes his thumb over my cheek, and I remain still, nerves building in my stomach. “I know you prefer the real me—the me I don’t let anyone else see. I don’t have to make you laugh, but I want to. I’m myself around you—even the quiet version—and you still accept me. That’s somethin’ I don’t feel around many people,” he admits, quickly rolling his lips together. “Most people expect me to be the life of the party, but you don’t care if I just lay quietly beside you all day long.”

I think back to our time lying in the hotel and how comfortable we both were that day. Or all the nights we’ve sat and watched whatever the dumbest show I could find for us.

“And it ain’t just that,” he continues. “I used to go out every chance I had because I couldn’t stand bein’ alone. But even bein’ out wasn’t enough; no one was enough. I was always alone. Even in a crowded room, I felt like I was the only one there.” His eyes break from mine and go to my lap, where he’s now gently squeezing my hands between his. “You take all of the loneliness away, Wildflower. When I’m with you, I don’t need or want anything or anyone else. Just you.”

Why does my stupid heart believe him? What a treacherous wench.

I shift uncomfortably, pulling my hands from his and casting my eyes down to the floor, knowing that if I meet his honest eyes right now, I’ll be done for.

I want so badly to let go and just give it a shot, but my head tells me it will never work out. Everyone wants kids and the perfect little housewife, and that is never going to be me.

As my heart and head battle it out, my mouth takes over and says the only thing I can think of to get him to back off. I close my eyes, unwilling to witness the pain I’ll see, and let the words slide out.

“I don’t feel the same,” my voice cracks, and I swallow down my emotions the best I can.

The tears begin to well in my eyes as soon as the words pass my lips, though, and I try to blink them away rapidly.

Wild doesn’t budge an inch, however. I expect some sort of reaction… but there’s nothing.

“Horse shit,” he challenges. “Say that while you look me in the eyes, Ind.” He still has that commanding, serious tone in his voice.

Rolling my lips tightly between my teeth, my gaze jumps from the cabinet behind him down to my side, where I’m clasping my hand so tight the nails are digging in, about to draw blood.

“I don’t think I can do this, Wild,” I whisper, trying to hide the emotion in my voice as the tear tracks down my cheek. “You don’t really want me. You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t know you ?” he scoffs, his voice now changing tones and sounding offended.

Closing his eyes, he shakes his head and turns to the window for a few seconds. Taking a deep breath, he lets it out quickly. His demeanor goes from rigid to soft again when he faces me.

“You can’t hide from me.” His hand cups my jaw as he tilts my face up to his. “I know you better than anybody, Ind.” He releases me, his hand sliding down to his side. “I know you’re terrified of sharks, spiders… and dinosaurs .” He tries not to laugh at the last one.

“A lot of people know that,” I offer, wiping at the tear track.

“Oh yeah?” The intensity grows in his expression as he nods with a furrowed brow, biting at the inside of his cheek. “Do they know that you play Motown music when you’re sad? Especially when you miss your dad. Or how about, do they know you donate all of your change every time you walk by one of those Santas ringin’ a bell at Christmas time? What about the fact that you spent your senior year summer vacation secretly volunteering at the animal shelter?”

Before I can ask how the hell he knows about that, he keeps rambling on the facts he’s learned about me over the years.

“Do they know you get excited for a green arrow at a stoplight? Do they know you avoid any type of food or candy that comes on a wooden stick?”

How the hell does he know that?

I do my best not to let that one out because it makes me feel like a freak.

“How do you even?—”

“I’m not done,” he holds up a hand.

His eyes dig deeper into mine as he takes a breath. “Do they know you have a heart-shaped freckle on the bottom of your foot?”

“Well, that’s?—”

“Do they know that I’ve only wanted you since the twelfth grade?”

The words shock me into silence.

Why is he doing this right now?

“I know you wanna run, Ind, but don’t do it, baby. Please don’t fuckin’ do it.”

“You would be happier with someone else, someone less of a mess,” I say through tears.

“Dammit, Ind, I don’t want anyone else! I only want you . Only fuckin’ you!” His voice grows louder than I think he realizes with each word that passes.

I fidget with my thumbnail as my heart and head battle it out inside of me some more, growing more and more uncertain about why I’m being so damn stubborn about this anymore.

“Yeah, but?—”

“Dammit, woman.” His hands wrap in my hair as he pulls me into him. His warm, familiar mouth covers mine, and I’m lost to the world.

My lips part, and his tongue begins to meet mine stroke for stroke. The grip on my head loosens as he pulls back to look into my eyes.

“You don’t want kids? Fine—me either,” he shrugs one shoulder. “I’ll go get a vasectomy tomorrow if that’s what it’ll take. I just want you. Only. Fucking. You.” He accentuates each word with a soft kiss.

“I can’t ask you to give that up,” I cry.

“I’m not givin’ anything up that I’m not okay losin’. I’m not just doin’ this to get in your pants, Ind. I’m doin’ it because I want you to give me all of you. No holdin’ back. You don’t want a little Wild or Indie runnin’ around? Fine by me,’” he shrugs again. “I just want you. I don’t need anyone or anything else in life—just you. Only fuckin’ you.”

“Yeah, you said that,” I laugh through tear-filled eyes.

“And I’ll keep fuckin’ say it. I’m glad you hear me, but I don’t want you to ever forget it. There’s nothin’ and no one else for me. Just you.” He leaves a long kiss on my forehead.

A piece of me still wonders if this is the right thing and I think Wild can sense my hesitancy. He pulls me in tight and squeezes his arms around me, planting a kiss on the top of my head.

As we stand with our bodies pressed together, I’m surrounded by that warm, delicious smell that is all his own. It relaxes me almost completely.

God, why does he have to smell so good?

“Come cuddle in bed with me. I think we both had a long night.”

“Wild, I don’t?—”

“Nothin’ else, I swear. I just need you in my arms, Ind.”

There’s something in his voice that I don’t miss. I can’t quite put it into words, but I can feel it. Deep in my heart, I feel what he’s feeling right now, and I know the cure for this is his touch alone.

Nodding, I put my hand in his as he leads us back to his room, thankful that he didn’t expect any words from me tonight.