Chapter 12
AVERY
Iwas so screwed.
I’d lied about needing a nap. But Wilder obviously needed a nap, so I’d pretended I wanted one too, just so that for once the guy could get what he needed without feeling guilty about it. And wanting to take care of Wilder was how I knew just how screwed I was.
Sure, Wilder was sexy as hell, but there was more to him than washboard abs and an ass that wouldn’t quit.
The more time I spent with him, the more I got to see his tender, thoughtful side and the way he was so busy taking care of everyone else that he forgot to look after himself.
The guy was devoted to his kid, even if he was still figuring the whole sole parenting thing out.
And watching him as he lay snoring softly in my bed, with his hair spread over the pillow in a messy halo, I knew I was going to regret this.
Because this was meant to be a purely physical, no-strings arrangement—but I could already feel the threads of attachment weaving their way under my skin, and I wasn’t sure what to do about it.
And sure, there were a lot of reasons why developing feelings for Wilder was a bad idea—not least of which was him being the parent of one of my students—but it was hard to remember what they were when Wilder sleeping next to me felt so right.
Except my asshole brain chose that moment to remind me that Wilder wasn’t looking to date.
He’d made it clear that he had no space in his life for any kind of relationship.
And then there was the matter of Gracie’s mom—were they still a thing?
I hadn’t asked, but I knew they were still in touch, so it was possible they’d reconnect.
And I didn’t want to get in the middle of that.
Not that there was much chance of that. I was helping Wilder figure some stuff out, sure, but I wasn’t delusional enough to think a guy as hot as Wilder would be interested in anything more than some casual fooling around with me. I was just the guy next door. I was convenient, that was all.
My gut gave a nasty little twist.
Wilder mumbled something in his sleep and I propped myself up on one elbow, glad of the distraction from my racing brain. A crease appeared between his brows, and I instinctively ran a thumb over it. He gave a tiny smile, and the arm around me tightened.
I sighed and nestled into his hold. I’d stay here for a while longer if it meant Wilder would get some much-needed sleep.
Although, who was I kidding? It wasn't like cuddling up to him was any kind of hardship—the guy was a walking wet dream.
I traced a fingertip over the tribal tattoo that circled his forearm, the hairs on his arm whispering under my touch.
I lay there for a while, soaking up the heat and firmness of Wilder’s body against mine. Maybe this was only temporary, and maybe it was only physical, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy it while it lasted.
Just, it would have been a lot easier if Wilder was exactly what I’d thought when I’d met him: a stupid, hot asshole. Why’d he have to go and be all layered and complex and shit? I hadn’t signed up for a heart of gold, okay? I’d been fine with just a dick of steel.
Outside the afternoon light was turning golden.
It’d be dark soon, and I smiled at the thought of Wilder only getting down and dirty when it was night.
It wasn’t funny so much as it was a little sad, though.
Like, of course people should only ever be comfortable with what worked for them.
But at the same time, having to sneak around in the shadows to hook up wasn’t healthy.
Wilder deserved sunlight sex, dammit. Everyone did, if that was what they wanted.
I thought about the stunned expression on his face when he’d come, like he’d just won the lottery and couldn’t quite believe it, and smiled to myself. At least I could be sure that his first time with a guy had been memorable.
I closed my eyes and dozed for a little until I was pulled back into awareness when Wilder’s breathing changed.
I raised myself up onto my elbow again, in time to watch his eyes blink slowly open, then widen when he realized where he was.
I waited to see if he was going to panic.
Instead, his mouth quirked and a flush rose on his throat and cheeks.
“Hey,” he said, his voice soft.
“Hey. You sleep well?”
“Yeah. What time is it?”
“Just past five.”
His eyes closed. “Your bed is comfortable.” He opened them. “I don’t… I mean, I guess I have to get out of it at some point?”
I resisted the urge to tell him he could live there. “Well, there’s no rush, unless you have plans.”
He shook his head. “Nope, Gracie’s at her grandparents’ place, and I don’t have any plans with the guys.”
“You working tonight?”
“Nah, one gig a day is enough for me.”
“Want to stay for dinner?” I asked him. “I have steaks.”
“Sure,” he said with a smile, and I knew from that we’d be okay. As long as we both remembered we were friends, that would smooth out any awkwardness between us.
Wilder sat up in bed and pulled a face when he glanced down at himself, and his cheeks went pink. “Is it okay if I use your shower again? I have dried jizz all over me.”
“Sorry,” I said, “that’s on me. I should have cleaned us up.”
Wilder grinned. “Nah, it’s on me. Literally.” And then he slid out of bed, all fluid grace and sex appeal, and I got to watch his muscled ass and strong thighs as he sauntered out of the bedroom.
When Wilder was in the shower again, I pulled on my pants and shirt and padded out to the kitchen.
I dug around in the refrigerator and put together a salad and then took the steaks out and eyed them doubtfully.
My dad had always been king of the grill, so I didn’t have a lot of experience cooking steaks, but how hard could it be?
If the pan was on a low heat so they didn’t overcook, it should be fine, right?
The shower cut off, and a few minutes later Wilder wandered into the kitchen wearing his sweatpants and nothing else.
I guessed his glittery shirt had been too gross to wear again, and I couldn’t say I minded the view.
He came over and looked over my shoulder at the steaks. “Oh wow. Those look amazing.”
“Thanks.”
He eyed the skillet I’d put on top of the stove. “You don’t have a grill?”
“No?” I turned the burner on and lifted one of the steaks with a fork.
Before I could add it to the skillet, Wilder’s hand shot out and he grasped my wrist. “Don’t you dare.”
“What?”
He rolled his eyes and let out a disbelieving noise.
“You were gonna take that perfectly good steak and put it in a cold pan? Jesus, Avery. It’s not even seasoned.
That’s a fucking crime.” He let go of my wrist to clutch at his chest like he was in physical pain, then hip-checked me out of the way. “Let me.”
I would have been offended except I had no clue what I was doing. I held up my hands in surrender. “Fine. It’s all yours.”
Wilder grinned. “I might not have a fancy degree, but I know my way around a steak.”
I stepped back and watched him work—partly to take notes but mainly because competent Wilder was hot.
His confident movements as he looked through my cupboards, seasoned the steaks, and put them into the heated skillet with a flourish was really doing it for me.
My nerves were sizzling just like those steaks, and it was taking everything in me not to suggest we forget dinner and go back to bed, where Wilder could put those big, strong hands of his to better use.
Friends, I reminded myself. We’re friends having dinner.
I busied myself setting the table in the dining room, and by the time I came back into the kitchen Wilder was plating up the steaks. They smelled amazing, and my mouth watered.
“You like rare, right?” he said.
It felt like a trick question. “Is there another way to eat steak?”
Wilder flashed me a bright smile. “Correct. A gold star for Avery.”
“I’m normally the one who gives out the gold stars,” I said, laughing.
Wilder laughed too and carried the plates through to the dining room. I followed behind with a couple of beers.
I cut into my steak and when I took my first bite, I let out a sound that wouldn’t have been out of place on Pornhub—not that kindergarten teachers looked at porn, obviously.
At least, not that we would admit.
Wilder’s eyebrows flew up and then he grinned at me. “Good?”
“Mmm.” I swallowed and said, “It’s incredible. Thank you.”
“No, thank you. For, y’know.” His smile turned shy.
“Hand job and nap?” I said brightly.
Wilder laughed, and I was glad he knew I wasn’t mocking him, more laughing at the ridiculousness of having your hand on someone’s dick but not being able to talk about it. “Yeah, that,” he said. “It was pretty great.”
It had been obvious that Wilder had enjoyed himself, but still, it was nice to hear him say it out loud. Not that I needed reassurance or anything.
“Just so you know, you were pretty amazing too,” I said, because Wilder probably did need some positive reinforcement. “I’m glad you came over. And you can drop by whenever you want to do it again.”
He stabbed a piece of his steak and chewed it quietly before saying, “It’s not that I don’t want to come over again, but I’m not sure when I can get away.”
Wilder had a lot on his plate already, and I didn’t want to pressure him. I wanted this to be something just for him, something he could relax and enjoy. I ate while I thought about it, and finally I said, “I’m a night owl. I’m up until midnight most nights.”
Wilder’s brow creased, like he wasn’t sure why I was telling him this.
“I’m saying that if you want to come over once Gracie’s asleep, I’ll be awake.”
He took a moment to turn that over before saying, “But what if I pick the night you’re asleep?”
“Wilder,” I said firmly, “you coming over is worth waking up for.” I waggled my eyebrows meaningfully.