Chapter 9 #2
"We just finished and were about to head to the house. So you can put your panties back on now," Wyatt interjects.
"Are you wearing any? Dad says your bruise is gonna be a big one," Jagger quips.
Wyatt's face falls.
I mutter, "You don't have to be such a jerk."
"Sorry. That was low," Jagger quickly apologizes.
"It's fine. Let's get out of here," Wyatt says, taking a few steps toward the exit.
I don't move.
Jagger steps next to him, offering, "Want me to get a ring cushion for you?"
"Nah. I'm fine," Wyatt states, then continues moving forward. He gets to the end of the aisle and stops. He turns his head and declares, "Willow, you better get inside before your mom calls the rangers."
Disappointment, irritation, and anger toward my brother, heat my blood. I stomp past them and out of the barn. I head toward the house and run into Mason on the way.
"Mom wants you to do your homework," he says.
I fire back, "I already did it!"
He holds up his hands. "Jeez. I'm just the messenger. No need to be a little brat and have a temper tantrum."
"Ugh! Shut up." I push past him.
I get inside and go into the family room.
"There you are! How much homework do you have?" Mom asks.
"I already did it," I snap.
Her eyes widen.
"Don't disrespect your mother," Dad booms from behind me.
I jump from the sheer force of his voice.
"She's in a mood," Jagger states, walking into the room.
I glare at him.
"Don't harass your sister," Dad orders.
"Whatever. Anyway. Wyatt and I are going into town for a bit," my brother announces.
"For what?" I ask.
"None of your business."
"Answer the question anyway," Dad demands.
I smirk at Jagger.
He focuses on Dad. "Bonfire at The Waverlys'."
"You're going to Chelsea's?" I blurt out, feeling ill.
"Not talking to you," he replies.
"It's a school night," Mom reminds him.
He shrugs. "There are only a few weeks of school left, and I already did my homework."
"It's still a school night," I argue, sure I'll die if Wyatt goes to Chelsea's.
Dad assesses Jagger. "Do you have any tests tomorrow?"
"No, sir."
"What about you?" Dad turns toward the doorway.
"No, sir," Wyatt answers.
I glance at him, my insides shaking.
"Are you sure it's a good idea to go into town when you're all bruised up, Wyatt?" Dad questions.
Wyatt stands taller. "I'm fine, sir."
"But you're hurt," Mom interjects.
"They're big boys, Ruby. Let them go," Dad states, then points at Jagger. "Be home by midnight and not a minute later. Understand?"
"Yes, sir."
Dad looks at Wyatt. "I won't make your decision for you, but are you sure you're being smart right now?" He arches his eyebrows in challenge.
Stay home. Stay home. Stay home!
Wyatt keeps a stern expression and doesn't look at me when he claims, "I'm sure."
A knife slashes my heart.
Dad looks at him as if he doesn't believe him but only says, "Your choice."
"Let's get out of here," Jagger mutters, exiting the room.
I want to beg Wyatt not to go, but he turns and follows my brother out of the house.
The door slams shut, and my insides curl.
How could he go to Chelsea's?
He was going to kiss me.
He didn't.
But he was going to.
He still chose to go to Chelsea's instead of staying home with me.
"Willow, do you want to watch Roped In tonight?" my younger sister Paisley asks.
It's my favorite reality show, but I can't stomach any romance right now. "No. I'm going to bed."
"What? Travis is going to choose between Carley and Deserie!" she chirps.
"I don't care. Night," I offer.
Mom puts her hand on my forehead. "Are you sick?"
"No. Just tired. It's been a long day. Night." I hug her, then Dad, and climb the stairs.
I shut my bedroom door, slip my shorts and tank top on, and slide under the covers. I press my face into the pillow, replaying what happened in the barn. Whenever I get to the part where my brother interrupted us, I get angrier.
The room slowly grows dark with the sunset. The only light is from the quarter moon, which barely provides enough illumination to see by. I turn and look at my alarm clock.
11:45
Where are they?
He's with Chelsea.
Huffing out a breath, I get out of bed and go to the window. Staring out at the dark yard, I cross my arms, hating my unfair situation.
A minute before midnight, my brother's truck rolls through the gate. It stops in front of the house and the lights turn out. Jagger gets out of the passenger seat.
Wyatt opens the driver's door, but he moves slowly. Even in the faint glow of the moon, his pain is noticeable.
When they disappear under the front porch, I return to bed. A few moments later, I hear the creak of the guys walking down the hall and then their doors closing.
I slide farther under my covers and close my eyes, but I can't sleep.
A half hour passes and then my door opens. Wyatt's low murmur hits my ears. "You awake, sugar?"
My pulse leaps in my neck. I sit up in bed, whispering, "Yeah."
He carefully closes the door, creeps over, and points to the bed. "Slide over."
I obey, freaking out at the thought that we'll get in trouble but also shocked he's here.
He slides under the covers with a grimace.
"You're still in pain," I fret.
He faces me and puts both hands on my cheeks.
My breath catches.
The dim light coming in through the window makes his eyes look more all-knowing. I swear he can see every thought in my head.
My cheeks flame under his hands.
He moves his lips an inch from mine. "I didn't drink tonight."
"Is that why you drove?"
"Yep."
"Congratulations," I quip, still a little salty he went to Chelsea's.
His lips twitch. "Ask me why I rode over a bumpy dirt road with my ass bruised up and didn't try to drink away the pain."
The blood hums in my veins. "Okay. Why?"
He strokes his fingers over my face, pushing back my hair and not blinking, like he's in a trance. "I forgot to give you something. And I wasn't going to be intoxicated when I gave it to you."
My butterflies wake up. "Oh?" I hold my breath.
He studies me for so long that my entire body singes with the heat from his stare.
"Wyatt—"
He cuts me off with his mouth brushing against mine gently before parting my lips with his tongue. His hand slides to the back of my head, possessively holding my neck so I can't escape.
Not that I ever would.
His tongue rolls against mine like he's savoring me and has all the time in the world to do it.
I press my palm against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart, but it's thumping harder than it was earlier in the barn.
"No way," he mumbles against my lips.
I kiss him more, then ask "What?" before diving back into his mouth.
He tugs me closer, answering, "No way you haven't kissed anyone before."
I still. "Why do you say that?"
He grins. "Because you kiss like you want me to forget my own name."
A ball of giddiness rolls through me. "I do?"
"Yeah. So give me some more before I have to sneak out of here," he orders, then tugs me tighter to him.