Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Delilah
It’s a relief to laugh around Wilder again. I wasn’t sure how weird it’d be to face him, especially after he witnessed Mattie and me stumbling over ourselves and oversharing way too many details.
But if there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s breaking the ice in awkward situations.
Even though I’m excited about this trip and watching Ellie race in the biggest competition of the year, I’m more psyched about getting this time with Wilder.
I missed him and hate that I put up this barrier between us.
Maybe it was what I needed to realize I’d rather push through my insecurities than risk losing him.
We walk for a few minutes until we find an empty gate and then take a seat in the back by the windows.
“How’s volunteerin’ and your anger management classes goin’?” I ask, then take a sip of my iced coffee.
He shifts in his seat until he’s facing me, and I do the same. It’s not comfortable, but it’s better than nothing.
“Honestly, it’s goin’ good. The anger classes have been eye-openin’, to say the least. I went in with the mindset that I didn’t need to be there because I had my emotions under control, but turns out identifyin’ my triggers and understandin’ my anger will help me find the right copin’ mechanisms before I lash out.
As much as I hate to admit it, I like goin’. ”
“That’s so great, Wilder!” I beam with pride at him giving the classes a chance instead of not participating.
“The shelter has been enlightenin’, too.
I’ve met a lot of people and heard several of their stories.
Tierney’s a great mentor. Besides dealin’ with an old-ass dishwashin’ system, it’s been a good experience, and I feel good about being there.
I wish I had volunteered there long before it was court ordered. ”
I smile at how genuine he sounds. It’s good to see him like this—like he’s found a purpose outside of being a rancher. “Sounds like it’s been a great fit for you.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“So who’s Tierney?” I’ve never heard that name before and now I’m skeptical because his face lit up when he said her name.
“She manages the staff and volunteers. Very nice. Gives a lot of guidance and resources to those who need it.”
“Oh, gotcha.” I nod along. “Is she an older woman?”
He flicks his tongue piercing that I swear has a direct wire to my clit. “Maybe ten years older than me.”
“She married?” I clear my throat when he catches me staring at his mouth. “I mean, it sounds like she has a demandin’ job. I wondered if her husband is as supportive of her as she is of other people.”
Good save, moron. He saw right through that one.
“I’m not sure. Never asked her.”
“Weddin’ ring?” I prompt. “You were always a pro at lookin’ out for those.”
He rubs his hand along his scruffy jaw, one he hasn’t shaved in a few days. “You’re right. I haven’t seen a ring.”
“Hm. Well, I’m glad you get to spend your weekends with her. I mean, there. At the shelter. Helpin’ people.”
With an arched brow, he smirks. “Are you…jealous?”
“Me? What? Pfft,” I spit out so quickly, even I don’t believe myself. “Of course not. Why would…er…should I be?”
“Then why’re you so flustered?”
“I-I’m not. I was curious, that’s all.”
“Alright, well…” He inches closer. “In case that curious mind of yours goes into overdrive, lemme finish what I was tellin’ you earlier…”
Wilder leans in, kisses me soft and slow, but pulls away before I can react. “I’ve been wantin’ to do that for the past several weeks, and I needed to taste you again before we have this conversation.”
“Um…” I lick my lips, flustered. “You didn’t gimme a chance to kiss you back.”
“That’s because I was stealin’ it,” he replies smugly.
“But what I was sayin’ before, about how time apart didn’t help get over my feelings.
I’d rather be friends than nothin’ at all.
It’s never been about hopin’ you’d like me back one day, but rather how good I feel when I’m around you.
I like that feelin’, and if maybe one day I prove to you that I can be what you need, I’ll be here and ready.
Until then, I don’t want space from you. ”
The corners of my eyes fill with tears, but I fight them back until I can get out my words. “I don’t want space from you either,” I confirm, seeing the creases of his eyes stretch with happiness. “But I wanna be more than your friend.”
He blinks. “Really?”
I suck in my lower lip to keep myself from bursting. “Yeah…I’ve waited for the day you told me your feelings matched mine, and now, I don’t wanna let the fear of what-ifs get in the way of seein’ where things go. However…”
He exhales deeply. “I knew there’d be a but.”
I laugh, and he does too.
“It’s not a but, it’s a…stipulation. I want us to go slow. My mind is still playin’ mental gymnastics that this is even happenin’ and it needs time to catch up. I’ve not been in a relationship in a long time, and I’m afraid of screwin’ this up.”
“Darlin’, if anyone’s gonna screw it up, it’s gonna be me.” He tilts up my chin, inching closer again. “But I promise to take things slow, whatever you need, okay? There’s no need to rush.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Nope.” He presses his mouth to my cheek, then lowers his voice in my ear. “In fact, I won’t even kiss you until you beg for it.”
“Wilder!” I playfully push him away. “That’s unfair.”
“Oh, did you think I was gonna play fair because you finally confessed you’ve wanted me all along?” He flicks that fucking piercing that makes me squeeze my thighs. “Because you made me suffer for nine years. It’s only fair I return the favor.”
“Is that how it’s gonna be?” I taunt, crossing my arms and straightening my spine. “Because two can play that game. If anyone’s gonna beg, it’ll be you when I climb on top of you in my new lavender lace lingerie set.”
“You brought lingerie with you to Vegas?” He arches a suspicious brow, inching closer before he realizes it, and then pulls back.
He can thank Mattie for encouraging me to bring it, but I’m not admitting that.
“Mm-hmm. I dare you to try to keep your hands off me. In fact, you’ll be the one crawlin’ to me…”
His gaze falls down my chest, the tip of his tongue peeking out as he examines every inch of my body. Then he noticeably adjusts himself and my eyes shoot down to his groin, remembering the first time I saw his special piercings. I had to look it up and was nearly blinded by what I found.
I’m not a prude, but it looks painful and not just for him.
“You’re doin’ a horrible job at convincin’ me you won’t be the one beggin’,” I tell him once I unglue my eyes from his crotch.
“I’ve restrained myself for years…”
“And so have I,” I remind him. “Without random hookups and one-night stands.”
Not sure if that makes me look good or that no one else wanted to have sex with me.
But between traveling for the rodeo, training, and doing my job at Lacey’s, there wasn’t time for dating.
A few men were interested that I entertained for half a second, but I haven’t been serious with anyone since Waylon.
And isn’t that a humbling thought.
Wilder tilts my chin, bringing his face half an inch from my lips. “A hundred bucks says you’ll still be the first one to crack.”
“Since we’re goin’ to Vegas, let’s make it interestin’,” I counter, pulling back until his grip loosens.
“Alright, whaddya propose?”
“Five hundred dollars and the loser has to admit defeat by beggin’ for a kiss.”
“Oh, darlin’…you’ll be beggin’ for more than that.” He winks, smirking so hard, I think he believes he’s going to win.
“We’ll see about that…”
“So what’re the rules?”
“None…not like you’d follow ’em anyway.” I take a long sip of my iced coffee to cool the sudden heat in my cheeks.
He feigns innocence with a playful scoff. “I only break the stupid ones.”
“You can’t afford to break any of ’em. You’re lucky your dad and PO allowed you to leave the state as it is.”
When I texted Harlow if she knew about Wilder being allowed to come, she told me what Waylon had said. Since this was a pre-planned trip and the ranch is sponsoring Ellie, his probation officer signed off on it—with the provision that he not get into any trouble while he’s there.
She also told me that Waylon put me back on babysitting Wilder duty. Not that I mind, but I haven’t exactly kept Harlow and Waylon updated, so I sent back a salute-emoji.
“Trust me, I know. I had to get permission to miss my anger management class tomorrow night and skip my volunteer hours this weekend.”
“Alright, so no gettin’ shitfaced or punchin’ people.”
His tongue pokes against his cheek as if he’s trying not to laugh. “Don’t plan on it.”
Once it’s time to head back to our gate to catch our second flight, I can’t stop smiling.
Wilder and I being back to playful banter is enough to put me in a good mood for the rest of the month.
Not talking or seeing him is torture. I’d rather go back to him being rowdy and pissing me off than no contact at all.
But this time, I’m filled with nerves and butterflies.
We didn’t label things between us, which is fine since he’s been clear about his feelings, but I wish we had more time to talk and discuss what this means moving forward.
“Seems you and Wilder had a good chat,” Mom mentions, leaning toward me.
It only took her ten minutes after our plane took off to bring it up.
“Mm-hmm, we did,” I reply without giving anything away.
“And? What happened?”
“Are you being a gossip, Mama?” I mock, knowing how much she hates the rumor mills.
“No! I’m sharin’ an interest in my daughter’s love life. I wanna know if I’m lookin’ at grandbabies in a few years…or like twenty.”
“Mama!” I whisper-hiss, playfully scolding her. “You’ll get ’em from Harlow before you get ’em from me.”
“Okay, well, then maybe a weddin’?” she suggests all-too eagerly. “Nothin’ big, just a sweet little outdoor ceremony and reception.”
I gape at her like she’s lost her mind. “Again, Harlow will beat me to the altar. You’ll get your mother-of-the-bride moment with her soon enough.”
“Why do you say that? Has Waylon said somethin’ to you?”
And just like that, I’m no longer the topic of conversation.
Thank God.
Over three hours of my mother talking my ear off means I had no time to process what happened during the layover. Encouraging a battle of who will crack first in kissing the other is literally the worst thing I could’ve agreed to since I was ready to jump him in the middle of the airport.
After we land, I text Mattie that we made it and give her a quick update.
Mattie
OMG about fucking time!!!
Delilah
Oh shush! I'm still mentally freaking out a little, but I'm trying not to let it get to me. He agreed to go slow, so that helps.
Mattie
Slow?? Going slow is for teenagers and senior citizen couples! Put that sexy lingerie set on and rock his world to the moon and back.
Delilah
Oh my God.
Mattie
That's what you'll be screaming when he's spanking that ass and smashing it raw. You like it doggy style, don't you? He can hit all the right spots from that angle and with those piercings of his...you'll be squirting all over him.
Jesus fucking Christ.
I pinch the bridge of my nose because now I have that image in my head and beads of sweat form along my hairline at the very thought of that becoming a reality.
It’s been a long damn time since I’ve had sex.
Delilah
Maybe Wilder's right and we're a little bit too close...
Mattie
To be fair, we're usually drunk when we talk about sex. Or play with toys.
Delilah
Right, so clearly it's the alcohol's fault.
Mattie
Exactly!
I snort, then pocket my phone so I can grab my carry-on and deplane.
“Whaddya wanna do first?” Magnolia comes to my side as we walk toward the baggage claim.
“Shower and eat,” I quip. “And then find Harlow and Waylon.”
“I wanna do the ziplinin’ at Fremont Street Experience since I didn’t get to last year.”
“Over the street?” I confirm and she nods. “That might be above my adventure meter.”
“You’re a professional trick rider!” Magnolia nudges. “This should be right up your alley.”
“It’s not as scary as it sounds,” Tripp adds.
I haven’t told them that I’m not going back to the rodeo next season but don’t feel like now is a good time to bring that up, so I shrug it off.
“Maybe we could try those thrill rides or SkyJump at The Strat?” Magnolia offers.
“Oh, that sounds fun,” Mom chimes in, and I look at her like she’s grown a second head.
“You wanna jump off a hundred-something-floor building?” I ask, dumbfounded. “Aren’t you always tellin’ Harlow and me not to die doin’ dumb shit?”
She’s told us all kinds of horror stories of people coming into the ER after doing risky shit, so I’m shocked as hell she’d be on board for this.
“Well, yeah, like…don’t street race or jump off a cliff. These are meant to be safe thrillin’ activities.”
“Pretty sure you saw me in the ER twenty times when I was in high school,” Wilder says, walking next to my mom. “Because I did a lot of dumb shit.”
“Oh, I remember. The nurses had a Bingo card and marked a square every time you came in for being reckless. Only took a few months for someone to win.”
Wilder’s jaw drops and we all laugh. “That’s because my parents made me go in for every little thing. Concussion, broken rib, leg injury…”
“Yeah, how dare Mom and Dad wanna keep you alive,” Tripp deadpans, but I don’t think he meant it like that because his face falls as soon as the words tumble out.
My heart jolts as Wilder’s expression hardens with shame. He looks away, and I do too.
The conversation dies as we make our way through the airport. I take in all the bright lights and large screens featuring shows and casinos that Vegas has to offer. And I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am when I see the rows of slot machines.
It takes almost thirty minutes for everyone to get their luggage. Since we’re taking the shuttle to our hotel, we head outside to the pickup area.
“I need a nap and a plateful of BBQ ribs,” Mama announces.
I chuckle at the specific food she’s craving. “I hear they have great buffets here.”
“Oh, they do,” Wilder replies, stepping up next to me. “I think I gained ten pounds before we left last year.”
“Me too,” Magnolia adds. “Just don’t eat before goin’ on the rides.”
“Wasn’t plannin’ to.”
Wilder’s hand brushes mine while we continue waiting. Mine are cold from standing outside in this weather, but as soon as he teases my fingers with his, my whole body overheats.
Then he casually leans in and brushes his mouth against my ear. “I’ll be alone in my room in case you wanna forfeit and give in to what you really want me to do to you.”
“You mean what you wanna do to me,” I retort quietly so no one else overhears.
“Potato, potato. Either way, you’ll be beggin’ for it.”