Jilted

23. Sloane

23

SLOANE

The sound of the apartment door creaking open made me lose my place midsentence. Unfortunately, I was filming Knot so Seriously live, so I couldn’t run to see the man I assumed had just walked in, though my heart wanted to. It had been a week since I’d seen Wilder, and it felt more like a month.

He strolled into the bedroom and flashed a cocky smile as I spoke to the camera. I’d warned him that I might still be live when he arrived, but would leave my door open. My show normally ran about an hour, give or take. But today it would definitely be on the short side.

Wilder looked so sexy in his well-fitted business suit. Then again, I thought he looked sexy in jeans and a T-shirt. Or a tuxedo. Gosh, and the photos I’d seen of him in rugby shorts—those thick thighs. And don’t even get me started on how he looked naked. I really, really liked him that way best.

He’d watched my show before, though never right in front of me. So it was a little nerve-racking. Wilder quietly set his bag down and took off his suit jacket, being careful to stay behind the camera while I cleared my throat and spoke into it.

“Alright, everyone. I think it’s time I opened up the discussion so you can tell me what you think about the list of rules the team at Bride magazine and I came up with for bachelor and bachelorette parties. But first, let’s do a quick rundown of what we have, so you’re ready to comment.

“Number one—The party shouldn’t be held the night before the wedding. We don’t want any hungover brides or grooms.

“Number two—No strippers. If you need to see another woman or man naked one last time, maybe you aren’t as ready to get married as you think.

“Number three—No destination parties, like Vegas or the Caribbean, that cost a small fortune. Weddings are already expensive enough for your bridal party.”

I held up a finger. “Of course, if you live in Vegas or the Caribbean, or if you and your friends are all loaded and have private jets, then ignore this rule and have a great time.

“Number four—Do not, under any circumstances, leave the tab for the bride or groom to pay. This is a party where everyone attending pays for themselves and chips in to cover the guest of honor.

“Number five—Don’t invite people not invited to the wedding.

“Number six—Don’t plan something the bride or groom won’t enjoy. Bridesmaids, if you love to gamble but the bride doesn’t, no card night. Groomsmen, if you love to golf but the groom hates it, plan something else. This is their day, not yours.

“And last but not least, number seven—No videos! No one needs video of themselves dancing while tipsy, and things can be taken out of context.”

I looked back up at the camera. “I’m going to open up the chat now and take a two-minute water break while you all start typing. I’ll be right back!”

I hit the mute button, slipped off my headset, and stepped away from the desk. Wilder’s eyes were so dark and his smirk so dirty, I was a little scared. I held up a finger in warning. “I only have two minutes.”

He buried his face in my neck. “I can be quick.”

“Oh my God!” I giggled and made a lame attempt to escape from his arms. “Definitely not. I’ll be done in fifteen minutes, and then we can take our time.”

Wilder stroked my face with his thumb. “Give me this mouth first. I’ve missed you.”

Our teeth clanked together because I couldn’t stop smiling while we kissed. The man made me melt. We made out like two teenagers for longer than two minutes. When I begrudgingly pulled back, my lips were swollen. I wiped lipstick from Wilder’s mouth. “I missed you, too. But I gotta finish up. Why don’t you get changed and get comfy?”

“Alright…”

The way he said it told me he had something up his sleeve, but I needed to get back on camera. I took my seat and turned the audio back on. Comments were already pouring in.

“Oh boy,” I said. “I see we have a lot of thoughts on the subject.” I scrolled for the first comment to read. Almost every viewer had something to say about rule number two—no strippers. I picked out a comment and read aloud. “JuneBride says her fiancé is watching with her right now, and he disagrees on the no-strippers rule. He thinks it’s a tradition—the last hurrah and all in good fun. He says there’s nothing wrong with looking; you just can’t touch.”

I didn’t have to dig very far into the comments to find an opposing viewpoint. But I made the mistake of glancing past my computer screen when I went to speak. And found Wilder undressing—on the subject of strippers, he looked better than any I’d ever seen. I salivated at every carved indentation on his perfect chest. It was impossible to tear my eyes away. Especially when he got down to his boxer briefs, hooked two thumbs into the sides, and slid the material over his muscular thighs.

Oh.

My.

God.

I was live on freaking camera. I needed to say something—anything. But my mouth was dry, and swallowing wasn’t easy. Eventually I cleared my throat and managed. “MariaBenz disagrees with your fiancé, JuneBride. She thinks having strippers at a bachelor or bachelorette party is juvenile and unnecessary. She says people who are ready to commit to one another should be celebrating their upcoming nuptials. Not…”

I again got sidetracked. This time it was because of the slapping noise—the one Wilder’s dick made every time it hit his belly. He was naked, gyrating his hips like he was keeping an invisible hula hoop in place, and every time he thrust forward, his big penis slapped into his abs. It would’ve been hilarious to behold, if I wasn’t totally turned on by the sight of him naked and semihard.

I really hoped none of my bosses were watching this episode, because this was about to be the quickest wrap-up in the history of wrap-ups. I forced my eyes away from Wilder and looked straight at the camera. “Well, as you can see, this is a hot topic, and one I think might be a personal choice for each couple. However, it’s definitely something to discuss before heading out to plan those bachelor and bachelorette parties. We’ll pick back up with these rules next time. That’s it for today. Have a great week, everyone, and happy wedding planning!”

I clicked to end the show and fell back into my chair. “I can’t believe you did that while I was live.”

“You told me to get changed and make myself comfortable.” He stalked over to my desk, pulled out my chair, and straddled my lap, still naked. “I was just doing what I was told.”

“Oh yeah? Will you do whatever I tell you?”

His eyes darkened. “Fuck yeah. I’ll do whatever you want.”

I bit my lip shyly. “Alright. How about you…” I leaned to his ear and whispered, “ do the dishes .”

“Funny.” I was quickly hoisted out of the chair and into the air. Wilder tossed me over his shoulder, fireman style. I couldn’t stop giggling. He swatted my ass. “Just for that little tease, you’re not getting whatever you want. I’m gonna take whatever I want.” He dumped me unceremoniously in the middle of the bed. I bounced as he joined me and climbed on top.

Wilder kissed the underside of my chin. “You ended your show a little abruptly.”

“I was distracted because of your show.”

“For the record, you can’t have strippers at your bachelorette party.”

“Why not?”

“Because the thought of you looking at another man’s junk makes me feel violent.”

“Aww… That’s oddly sweet. But that means you wouldn’t be allowed to have strippers, either.”

Wilder shrugged. “Why would I need to look at another woman, if I have you?”

My belly fluttered. It felt like I was falling down a rabbit hole with this man—one I was pretty sure I’d never climb out of if things didn’t work out.

Wilder brushed his knuckles along my cheek. “Being with you is like waking up to Christmas morning every day.”

My heart skipped a beat. “You scare me, Wilder.”

“Likewise, sweetheart. But you’re worth the risk.”

“Oh my God!” my niece Olivia shrieked from the other room.

I ran into the kitchen and found her covering her eyes. Wilder stood in his boxer briefs, frozen, with a coffee mug in his hand. I gestured for him to go into the bedroom. Once the coast was clear, I spoke to my niece. “You can uncover your eyes now.”

“Yes, but I think my retinas might be permanently scarred.”

I cracked a smile. “I think what you got a peek at is pretty spectacular.”

“He’s like sixty.” She took her hands away and promptly rolled her eyes. “Is Wilder your boyfriend or something?”

“Umm… It’s new. Sorry. I should’ve locked the door.”

Wilder strolled back into the room wearing jeans and a T-shirt. He picked up the coffeepot and nodded at Olivia. “Good to see you, kid. Don’t you knock?”

“Don’t you wear clothes?”

He poured a cup of coffee and leaned a hip against the counter. “Not when I sleep. Your aunt was kind enough to let me crash on her couch last night because I got in late.”

She wasn’t buying it. “Uh-huh, sure.”

“Shouldn’t you be at school?” he asked.

“I was just leaving, but Dad forgot to leave me lunch money.”

Wilder pulled his wallet from his pocket and slipped out a bill, extending it to my niece. “Here you go.”

“She doesn’t need a fifty, Wilder.”

“It’s the only American bill I have.”

Olivia smirked. “I’ll bring him change.”

I shook my head. “Like I haven’t heard that a hundred times.”

She tucked the fifty into her pocket. “I thought Lucas was coming in tonight?”

“He is.” Wilder sipped his coffee. “I have a meeting, so I came a day early. I’m picking him up from the airport later. You two gonna hang out?”

“We want to.”

“That can be arranged. If…” He tipped his mug to her. “You’re not late to school.”

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes again, but waved. “See you later, Aunt Sloane.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

I pulled the door closed behind me. “I’m sorry you had to see Wilder half-dressed.”

She shrugged. “I gotta go.”

“Alright. Have a good day.”

Olivia stopped two steps down and turned back. “Do you think his brother looks like that with no shirt on?”

Oh Jesus . “I don’t know. And I hope you don’t find out for another twenty years—when you’re old enough. Now get to school.”

I was still shaking my head when I walked back into my apartment. Wilder poured a second cup of coffee and added half and half before passing it to me.

“I think we might have a problem,” I said.

“What’s that?”

“She’s hot for your brother.”

He nodded. “I think the feeling is mutual. But I’ll talk to him when I pick him up tonight, make sure he’s not an ass to her.”

“Thank you.”

He sipped and looked at me over the brim of his mug. “I overheard you talking when I was getting changed. What’s with the answer you gave when she asked if I was your boyfriend?”

“What do you mean?”

“You skirted the question. That’s why I threw out that I’d slept on the couch. Do you think she’s too young to know?”

“She’s fourteen. Half the girls in her grade have had boyfriends already, unfortunately.”

“So why the vague answer?”

“Because… I wasn’t sure how to respond.”

Wilder held my eyes for a few heartbeats before setting his coffee on the counter next to him. He closed the distance between us and locked his hands around my waist.

“We are, sweetheart.” He ducked down so we were eye to eye. “Boyfriend and girlfriend, or whatever you want to call it.”

My pulse raced like I was back in ninth grade and Eddie Anderman had asked me to the spring dance. I smiled. “Okay.”

He pressed a kiss to my lips. “I have a meeting at ten. But I’m going to go visit Coach after. You want to meet him?”

I nodded. “I’d like that, boyfriend.”

He chuckled and kissed my forehead. “My girlfriend is a goofball.”

“Hey, Wilder.” A nurse with a Caribbean accent and long, beaded braids smiled. “He made me do it.”

“Do what?”

She chuckled. “You’ll see.”

Wilder took my hand, tugging me with him down the hall. “That’s Lucinda. She’s great. She’s been here as long as Coach has. He has a big crush on her. The more his disease progresses, the less he hides it. She’s a really good sport.”

Coach’s room was at the end of a long hall. On our way to the nursing home, he’d filled me in a little more about his old coach’s dementia battle, so I walked in expecting to find an old man in hospital pajamas, hunched in a chair with his eyes glazed over. But I wasn’t even close.

Coach wore a Hawaiian shirt and basketball shorts, blasted reggae music, and was dancing all by himself. He also had a full head of gray, beaded braids.

Wilder shook his head. “Now that’s a new look…”

Coach grinned and patted his hair. “You like it? Lucinda’s last boyfriend had braids. I thought it would help my chances.”

“I think you’ve got a better shot at finding rhythm at seventy-five than you do with Luce, and that’s saying something.” He hugged his coach. “How are you, old man?”

Coach noticed me for the first time. His eyes perked up. “Now that’s much better than the shitty pastries you usually bring me.”

Wilder held up his pointer in warning. “Easy. No hitting on my girlfriend. This is Sloane.”

Coach opened his arms for a hug. I was happy to oblige. “It’s nice to meet you. Wilder told me all about you. You’re the only thing he talks about when he calls lately.”

Wilder shook his head. “Don’t believe anything he says. It’s all lies.”

“She must be someone special,” Coach noted. “Never brought anyone with you for your visit before.”

Wilder caught my eye. “She is.”

“Well, come sit.” Coach turned down the radio. “Patty can bring us some lunch on the patio.”

Wilder whispered, “Patty was his wife. She died ten years ago.”

He’d told me Coach often slipped in and out of current and past time, but I didn’t realize he would seem so lucid doing it. I thought Patty was someone who worked here, the way he’d said it.

“You feeling up for a walk before Patty brings us lunch?” Wilder asked.

“Yeah. Sure.”

Wilder helped Coach put on sneakers, and then the three of us took a walk. On the way out, Wilder let the front desk know what we were doing.

“Did you see I signed Santiago?” Wilder asked.

“Who?”

“Left flanker from California. We talked about him when I called last week.”

“Oh. Yeah, right.” Coach nodded, but I wasn’t sure he remembered anything.

We walked around the building on a path for the next hour. At times, conversation flowed and there was no doubt Coach’s memory was there, but there were other moments when Coach would trail off midsentence, like he’d forgotten he was even talking. One thing clear as day, though, was the bond between these men. Eventually, Coach’s steps became more of a shuffle, so we went back inside.

Wilder was down on a knee, unlacing a shoe when Coach yanked at the top of his hair. “You still using that girly yellow blow-dryer to make your hair fancy?”

Wilder shook his head with a smile. “Not anymore, Coach. Pretty sure you spend more time fixing those braids than I do on my hair these days.” Wilder’s eyes slanted to me.

I lifted a brow. “So the girly habits Lucas told us about aren’t new then?”

He smiled and turned back to Coach. “I’m going to get going. You want me to help you into bed?”

“Yeah. Why not? Then I’ll be ready when Lucinda finally comes around.”

Coach’s eyes fell to me briefly as Wilder pulled the covers up.

“I’ll call you next week. Take care, alright?”

Coach put a hand on Wilder’s bicep. “She’s a nice girl. I’m glad you finally moved on.”

I waited until we got to the car before poking around. “Was Coach referring to your high school girlfriend when he said he was glad you moved on?”

Wilder started the car, looking straight ahead. “No. He’s just confused.”