Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Delilah
W ith the Vegas trip this week, I’ve been packing and mentally preparing to see Wilder again. Although I saw him four days ago during my drunken escapade, I wasn’t in my right mind to think too much about how we hadn’t seen each other in two weeks before that.
I hate how much he made my heart flutter once he was done scolding me. Every time he flicked that stupid tongue piercing, I contemplated attacking his mouth again.
And the way he stormed in like a caveman, all angry and fired up, was a little bit hot.
But I’d never admit that aloud.
I didn’t mean to get wasted at the Mexican restaurant with Mattie, but once we started drinking and my mind spiraled from the way he barged into the restaurant, I couldn’t help ordering more to calm my racing thoughts.
I invited Jonah to meet us so I could tell him about the possibility of working at the ranch, assuming he’d even want to, and the more we talked, the more we drank.
Besides the morning after text asking how I was feeling and him responding when I asked how Jonah was doing on his first day, we haven’t talked. He replied with a quick: he’s fine .
Jonah later told me Wilder was on his ass for ten hours straight and wouldn’t make conversation with him besides giving him orders. Didn’t even introduce him to the other ranch hands, so he did it himself.
He texted on his second day that some teenage girl threw him a dirty look for getting the four-wheeler stuck in the mud. And instead of helping, she walked away laughing.
After a few days of Jonah proving he’s a hard worker, Wilder took it easier on him. He still makes him do bitch work, but Jonah’s more than happy to do it for Raven’s sake.
Since he’s working long shifts, he gave Raven my number in case she ever needs anything and can’t get ahold of him. She texted me once to thank me for helping Jonah get the job and I told her to contact me anytime.
After the article, neither of us has seen or heard from Wesley or Molly. I can only hope it stays that way because I’m sick of looking over my shoulder every time I leave my apartment. Getting out of town will be nice for that reason alone.
Wilder and I are on the same flight since Harlow and Waylon drove, but I’ll be next to my mom so she’s not alone.
I’m anxious to see how things will go between us after our “time apart.” My biggest fear is things won’t be the same between us. Either he’ll say he’s over it or he needs more space.
As much as I want things to go back to the way they were before I kissed him, it’s not fair to ask him to do that. Not when I know he’s had feelings for me and he knows I have them for him.
I hate that I can’t get out of my grief and guilt enough to give in to those feelings and be what he deserves right now.
Although I’ve been talking to a counselor for the better part of the year, the impending one-year anniversary of my dad’s death has me in a chokehold. This weird anticipation hangs over me like a deadline—if I make it to that date, I can say I survived the worst of it. The hardest year of my life will be over, and I can finally exhale.
But the reality will be that the hard days won’t magically stop. And I still have to accept that.
“I can’t believe you’re goin’ without me.” Mattie pouts, body-slamming my bed and nearly crashing on top of my suitcase. “Can you at least bring me back a hot cowboy or cowgirl?”
“Why not one of each?” I tease.
She sits up, eyes bright and eager like a dog waiting for its bone. “Yes, please!”
I snort, grabbing more clothes.
“You should bring your new lavender lace set.”
“For who?”
“Your future husband.”
“And who’s that?”
“Whichever hot piece of cowboy ass you find.” She falls back against my pillows, sighing as she looks up dreamily.
“You’re imaginin’ guys in chaps and cowboy hats, aren’t ya?”
“Just my type. Preferably shirtless and tattooed.”
I chuckle, digging into my closet for the lingerie set I haven’t even tried on.
“If I’m not ready to move forward with Wilder, what makes you think this will ever see the light of day?” I ask, holding it up against my body. It’s teeny tiny compared to me.
“Maybe that’ll give you the confidence you need to get outta that head of yours and finally be honest with yourself.”
I groan and my eye twitches. “You sound like my therapist.”
“Then we’re both brilliant.” She gloats.
“Mm-hmm.” I drop the lingerie in my luggage because why the hell not.
“Send me a few selfies when you actually put that on…” She nods toward it. “So there’s proof.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
I dig around for my favorite cowboy boots and add them to the pile. Then I look through my dresser for panties and socks. I don’t know why I’m hyper-fixating on what I’m wearing underneath my clothes, but I’d rather overpack than somehow run out of underwear.
“Delilah?”
Mattie’s booming voice grabs my attention, and I quickly spin toward her.
“What?” I ask, holding my items close to my chest.
“You okay?” She slides off the bed, then stands in front of me. “I said your name like three or four times. You completely dazed out.”
Blinking a few times, I nod. “Yeah, I was focused on which pairs to bring, I guess.” I let out a small chuckle. “Can never bring enough, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Her hesitant voice tells me she’s not buying it. “You don’t have to go if you’re havin’ doubts. I’m sure Harlow would understand.”
“It’s not that…” I toss my items on the bed and sit. “Just anxious to be around Wilder in a different settin’ and not know where his head is regardin’ our…situation.”
“I think you should go and try not to think about it. Just have fun and let loose. You’re on vacation. It doesn’t have to revolve around Wilder. Spend this time with your mom and sister. Wilder will wait or he’ll find a way to talk to you if he wants to, but don’t put any pressure on yourself. Plus, it’s Vegas! Go experience it.”
I nod, smiling wide. “You’re right. It’ll be nice to go have fun for a couple days.”
“That’s my girl!” She playfully smacks my knee. “Just don’t come back pregnant. We promised to get knocked up together, and I’m not ready for that yet.”
My head falls back, laughing at the pact we made when we were thirteen. “Okay, deal.”
I haven’t flown in several years, since Mattie and I went to Florida on a whim and spent the weekend in Key West. Most of it is a blur since we partied the whole time. But we had a blast and I’m hoping Vegas won’t be any different.
Even though my nerves are on fire—for several reasons—I’m excited when I pick up my mom and see how amped up she is to be getting out of Sugarland Creek for a while.
Wilder’s riding with Tripp and Magnolia to the airport, so I have an hour to clear my mind before we get there. Our flight doesn’t leave for another three hours, so we should have plenty of time to get to our gate and wait to board.
“What would you think about goin’ to the Hollises’ for Christmas this year?”
My head snaps over to my mother in the passenger seat. “But we always eat at your house.”
“Right, but it’s the first one without your father, and I think it’s time we make new traditions.”
“We’ve made some,” I counter. Like Saturday night game nights.
“I know, sweetheart. I guess it doesn’t feel right havin’ it at the house without him. Maybe eventually it will, but right now, I’d like to try somethin’ new. Mrs. Hollis invited us.”
“Oh…” My throat tightens, and I choke back tears. I should’ve realized how hard this would be on her too. “Okay, we can go.”
“Thanks, honey.” She reaches over and pats my hand. “Hopefully, you and Wilder make up by then.”
“Huh? What makes you think we’re fightin’?”
“I’m not blind, Delilah. You’ve been moppy the last two Saturdays, and I’m sure that article didn’t help things. Was he mad about you helpin’ Jonah?”
My shoulders tense, but she deserves an explanation. I’ve already told her about him and his sister and the shit with Wesley. But I didn’t tell her the details with Wilder.
For the rest of the drive, I catch her up on everything. Hell, I basically word-vomit until my brain’s empty. I even tell her the truth about the night I got pulled over and how Wilder and I made out.
And then how I freaked out and got pissed at him, which led to where we are now and why I’m anxious to see him again.
“You probably think I’m an emotional wreck, don’t ya?”
When I glance at her, she’s beaming. “Not at all.”
“Why do you look so happy?”
“I’ve been wonderin’ when you and Wilder were gonna finally get together.” She shrugs bashfully. “Ever since you found out he was ‘Luke’ and then spent more time together, it was only a matter of time before your emotions spilled over.”
I told my parents the Luke/Wilder story after Waylon and I had broken up two years later. When I asked Noah about training, I was hesitant at first. Not because of my past relationship with Waylon but because of Wilder.
“You heard the part where I freaked out on him, right?”
“Yes. And this whole takin’ time apart business is a ploy.”
“Whaddya mean?”
“He doesn’t need time to get over you or move on. He’s givin’ you time to catch up because he knows the feelings are mutual.”
“I don’t think so, Mama. He was serious when he said it.”
“I’ve always noticed the way he looked at you. Even drunk, he stared like you were his anchor. He held onto you to steady him and that’s how I know he wouldn’t give up that easily without a fight.”
I never realized he looked at me a certain way.
“He knows I’m the girl from the crisis hotline,” I tell her the same thing I told my father. “And he knows I know too.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. He felt safe with you. You got him through a hard period and he knew you’d never judge him the way he assumes everyone else does. You give him comfort and stability.” She smiles so wide, it reaches her temples. “You’re his safety pin.”
My eyes fill with tears before I can stop them. I’ve never considered he saw me that way and even though I don’t want to gloat and sound highly of myself, I can understand why.
Wilder and I spent weeks on the phone, discussing all his highs and lows. He shared so much with me—minus his real name and the truth about who he was—but I had his voice memorized and it was how I knew the first moment he spoke.
The rest clicked into place.
Twin brother. Oldest of five. Plus everything Waylon had told me about his mental health.
During those months we talked, I wondered who he was and eventually figured out he gave me a fake name when he nearly slipped during one of his story times. But I didn’t push him to tell me because some people feel ashamed for calling into a crisis hotline, and I didn’t want him to feel that way. I was proud he continued to call even when it was obvious it was only to talk to me. Hearing his voice was something I looked forward to hearing and missed when I had to leave abruptly.
“If you have feelings for him, tell him. Put that man out of his misery and yourself out of yours.”
I wipe my cheek, sniffing back my emotions. “It ain’t that easy, Mama.”
“Love never is, sweetheart. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be heartache.”