Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
WILDER
“That seemed pretty serious,” I say as we make our way back to the cabin.
“I know. Did he seem mad?”
“I was getting more of an irritated vibe.”
“Think we’re in trouble?”
“For what?” I ask. “We did everything right. You need to stop worrying so much.”
“I was born into this world worrying,” she says. “I don’t know any other way of living.”
“You need to hang out with me more often,” I say. “I can teach you not to worry or sweat the small things.” We reach our cabin and head up the stairs, where we find a box with a bow on top waiting for us. I pause and whisper, “The prize?”
“What do you think it is?” she asks, examining the box.
I shake my head. “No idea. But it’s concealed. That could be a good thing or a bad thing.”
“How could it be a bad thing?” she asks as we both stare down at the package.
“What if it’s…really dirty, like something they don’t want people seeing? Like…like a sex swing.”
She toes the box with her foot. “Doesn’t seem like a big enough box for that.”
“Do you have experience in box sizes for sex swings?”
“Absolutely not,” she says. “This is just an assumption. I don’t even know what a sex swing looks like. Do you?”
“Do you really want to know the answer to that?”
She rolls her eyes. “Maybe not. Should we pick it up?”
“I don’t know. Should we?”
“I think we should.” She nudges me with her shoulder. “You pick it up.”
“You know, it’s not a bomb.”
“Could be. We don’t know.” She nudges me again. “Go ahead. Pick it up.”
Rolling my eyes, I snag the box and then open our cabin. She follows in behind me, keeping what I’m sure she believes is a safe distance from “the bomb.” News flash: if this is a bomb, she’s still going to be blown up.
“Is it heavy? Does it rattle? Does it feel like a sex swing?”
I lift it up and bring it close to my face, where I give it a quick sniff. “You know what…it does have the faint scent of a sex swing.”
She grips my arm. “Really?”
“No.” I set it down on the bed and then take off the top. Together, we lean over to look inside, and then at the same time, we both gasp. I’m the first to reach into the box as I pull out two big bags of Nerds Clusters. I raise them to the sky and say, “The angels have spoken!”
“Dear God in heaven,” she whispers as she pulls out another bag from the box. “We are rich!”
We tear into our respective bags immediately, putting a fistful in our mouths.
Chewing, she says, “Now this is the kind of prize I’m talking about. Screw the dildos, give me the Clusters.”
I pause as I’m about to put another fistful in my mouth. “You heard what you just said, right? Screw the dildos? Sorry to let you know, Pips, but that’s what you’re supposed to do.”
“Please don’t ruin this moment for me.” She pops another Nerds Cluster in her mouth.
Smiling, I do the same.
“How did we feel about our answers during the competition this morning?” Sanders asks as he scoots a ball around on the floor with a hockey stick.
He went and changed as well, now wearing a pair of Grinch pajama pants and a bright pink shirt with Camp Haven on the front. He’s paired the outfit with a Goofy baseball hat. You know, the one with the ears and teeth hanging down from the bill.
Normally, his attire doesn’t distract me, but today I’m having a hard time paying attention. I mean, at least pick a theme, man, and stick with it.
“I felt pretty good about the answers,” I say. “I felt they were honest, even if some of the answers hurt to hear.”
He flicks the ball against the wall, startling Scottie next to me. “What about you, Scottie? How did you feel about them?”
“Same,” she says as she scoots closer to me on the couch, probably out of the hope that I’ll block any ball that might come her way. “Hard to hear but necessary.”
“And how did you feel about the win?”
“Personally,” I say, “it makes me realize that when push comes to shove and we’re faced with something tough, we still have the ability to work together and get the task done.”
“Do you think that’s important in a marriage?” he asks as he starts bouncing the ball off the edge of the hockey stick.
“The ability to work together?” I ask. “Uh, yeah, because a marriage is like working with a team, right?”
He pauses and looks up at me, a smile on his face. “Precisely, Wilder.” He tosses the stick to the side and takes a seat across from us. “You both were asked if you were happy in your marriage, and both of you said no.” He looks between us. “Did you hear that? You both said no.”
I nod my head, keeping my lips locked, because I don’t really know what to say to that. From the corner of my eye, I catch Scottie bowing her head, and I can’t help but wonder what’s playing through her mind right now. It can’t be easy, going through these courses after a failed marriage. Does she wonder if things might have worked out if she had attended this camp with her ex?
“Not to mention you made it through the entire course arguing. Did you hear anyone else argue the way you were?”
“No,” I answer for the both of us.
“Precisely, which brings me to my point. We need to work on communication. That’s the biggest challenge in your relationship. If you paused for a moment to listen and communicate with each other, I don’t think you’d be in the position that you are now.”
“Probably,” I say.
“Which is why we’re going to practice listening and communicating today. I’m going to need you to turn toward each other and hold each other’s hands.”
Unsure of where this is going but excited, I turn toward Scottie and then take her hands in mine.
“No, this is not the position I want.” Sanders stands. “Wilder, lean back against the couch, and Scottie, I want you straddling his lap.”
“Wh-what?” she asks, her head snapping up to Sanders. “You want me to straddle him?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t that…inappropriate?”
“He’s your husband,” Sanders says, pointing to me, looking confused. “There’s nothing inappropriate about it. I think the closeness will help you.”
Noticing how uneasy she is about the whole thing, I try to soothe her. “It’s fine, Pips. Not like he’s going to make us dry hump or anything.” I glance over at Sanders. “Are you?”
Sanders shakes his head. “No, but being intimate with each other is important, and I think you need to start to grow comfortable with showing each other affection. That starts with your body language when together.”
“If it makes you more comfortable,” I say to Scottie, “you can sit on the couch, and I can straddle your lap.”
Her expression falls, and I lightly chuckle, because I would really be up for anything.
“We’re not doing that,” she grumbles.
“Or you can sit on my face.” I wiggle my brows, really trying to lighten the mood. “Haven’t tested that seat out in a while. You always used to find it comfortable.”
She side-eyes me, and it takes everything within me not to burst out in laughter.
“Your lap will do,” she mumbles as she moves over my lap and takes a seat.
“Comfortable?” I ask with a grin.
“Hardly,” she answers.
I don’t know. I’m pretty damn comfortable.
“You know, this reminds me of the time we were in Vegas…”
“Don’t even start,” she says, eyeing me.
“But it’s such a good story.”
“This is a good jumping-off point actually,” Sanders says as he stands and picks up a basketball. I swear, there weren’t any balls or sticks in the first session. Dribbling it and making the entire floor rattle, he continues, “For this lesson, I want you two to look each other in the eyes and mirror what you say to each other. So, Wilder, recount your time in Vegas and, Scottie, I want you to repeat it. Make them short sentences so she can really listen and repeat.”
Great fucking activity.
Smiling up at her, I say, “It was our anniversary. You were wearing that short pink dress that rode dangerously high, showing off those delicious legs.”
She bites the side of her cheek and says, “We were in Vegas. I was wearing a pink dress.”
“Nope, that’s not what he said,” Sanders says, cutting in and tossing the basketball in the air. “He gave you a compliment, and you didn’t acknowledge it. And from what I’ve learned about Wilder, compliments are his love language.”
I mean, I’m not going to tell him he’s wrong. Then again, I think any man would enjoy a compliment, especially from someone as stunning as Scottie.
Scottie turns toward me and asks, “I didn’t notice a compliment. What did you say?”
“I said your dress was dangerously high, showing off your delicious legs.” And then I rub my hands over the sides of her quads. She tenses above me, and it makes me wonder how much this tool of an ex of hers actually paid attention to her. Gave her affection. Said something nice. Because a simple stroke of the leg shouldn’t make her this tense.
“Oh, um…thank you?”
“Tell me what you like about her legs,” Sanders says. “Scottie, I want you to mirror what he says by starting your sentence with ‘what I heard you say was’ and then end it with ‘tell me more.’ Think you can do that?”
“Yes,” she says and then turns toward me.
Wanting to have some fun and make this woman feel good about herself, I say, “I love how your legs aren’t stick thin. I love that they give me something to grip on to. I love the way they look in heels. Your calves are fire. And your ass is unbelievable.”
I tug on my lip ring, challenging her, wanting to see if she’s going to repeat what I said.
“Umm, what I heard you say is you love how my legs aren’t stick thin and that they look good in heels, and you have something to grip on to and, uh?—”
“Calves,” I help her.
“Oh, right, my calves are fire, and my ass is unbelievable.” She clears her throat. “Tell me more.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” I slide my hands up to her waist. “I know you don’t need to know just how smart and clever you are, because you know that through and through, but I can get lost in your eyes for days. They’re such a unique shade of blue with a brown ring around the pupil that causes me to stare at them just a touch longer than I should.”
She glances over my shoulder to avoid eye contact, but I don’t let her. “Look at me, Scottie.”
“Good,” Sanders says, now taking a seat and spinning the ball on his finger. “Scottie, repeat what he said.”
She clears her throat and says, “What I heard you say was that you think I’m smart and clever. But you know I already know that. What you like are my eyes and the brown ring around the pupil. You can get lost in my eyes for a long time.” She swallows. “Tell me more.”
A wave of goose bumps spreads over her arms as I creep my hands farther up her waist, holding on to her tightly.
“Back to that night in Vegas, when you were in that dress. We were at that strip club, per your choice, but then you wouldn’t let one single woman near me. That night, you gave me my own personal lap dance, right then and there, in front of everyone. It was one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced. I like that you claimed me as yours.”
She nods and blows out a heavy breath. “What I heard you say was simple…you like it when I claim you as mine.”
“Good, Scottie. Good. Ask him why.” Sanders is leaning toward us, immersed.
“Why do you like it when I claim you as mine?”
“Because it makes me feel needed.”
“Tell me more,” she says, sinking onto my lap, her hands falling to my chest.
“I like knowing I can be of value to you. You’re so independent, so strong, that there are times where I feel like you might not need me.”
She twists her lips to the side. “What I heard you say is that in order to feel love from me, you need to feel like you’re needed.”
“Wonderful, Scottie. That’s great listening,” Sanders interjects.
I nod, feeling this conversation heavier in my heart than other sessions we’ve had with Sanders, because shit…I think what I just said was actually true. I like knowing I can be of value to someone, more than just a bank account. I like knowing that I can offer my humor, my touch, my mind…my soul. I like knowing that I’m helpful, that I can bring joy. That’s very much my love language.
“And do you need him?” Sanders asks.
Scottie’s eyes meet mine as she tilts her head, studying me. “Yeah, I do.”
“And how does that make you feel, Wilder?”
I wet my lips, pride surging through my chest. “Fucking amazing.”
“Good. Now, Scottie, tell him what your love language is.”
She lets out a sigh and plays with the collar of my shirt, the subtle movement of her finger near my neck causing my stomach to dance in playful knots.
Jesus, man, pull it together.
A girl sits on your lap, and all of a sudden, you have butterflies in your stomach?
Tighten up.
“Attention,” she says quietly, and from the droop in her shoulders and the lack of eye contact, I know she’s speaking from experience. She’s speaking her truth.
“What I heard you say is that you need more attention from me. Tell me more,” I say.
She draws a circle over my chest. “I want to feel like I’m the most important thing in your life. I want to come home from work to find you excited to see me. I want you to want to kiss me. Hug me. Touch me other than when it’s for sex.” Her eyes lift to mine. “I want to know that if I were to walk out that door, walk away from this relationship, that you would know it was the biggest mistake of your life.”
“Pips, I already know that. That’s why I’m here.”
“Repeat what she said,” Sanders says as he takes a seat on the arm of the couch, moving in on us.
“What I heard you say is that you want to know that you’re the most important thing in my life. You are. That you want me to want to kiss you, hug you, touch you. I fucking do, Pips.” I run my hands up and down her sides. “And if you walked out that door, ending us, I would be devastated. Tell me more.”
Her hands slide to my neck as she says, “I don’t want you to hide. I want to know everything about you. The good and the bad.”
“What I heard you say is that you want to know everything about me, the good and the bad. And I want to tell you, Pips. I really fucking do.”
My mouth goes dry as those words hit me harder than I expected, because fuck, I’ve been shouldering so much ever since my father passed away. I’ve been holding my mom’s secrets close to my chest. I’ve been taking care of Mika, making sure he stays mentally healthy. I’ve been making sure that as a family unit, we don’t fall apart. And…and it’s tiring.
“Great,” Sanders says, bouncing the ball and startling the both of us out of the trance we were just in. “This was exceptional. Wilder, you want to be needed. Scottie, you want to feel special. Have you told each other this before?”
I shake my head. “No, we haven’t told each other that.”
“Then this is what we call a minor breakthrough.” He tosses the ball across the room and then moves back over to his chair. “The key to a successful, championship-winning team is understanding each other. Understanding what you can offer and understanding what you need the most. We explored that today. Now, I want you to take what you spoke about and go see Ellison, as she has an activity ready for you two to participate in. I expect for you to continue down this path of honesty. And before you start yelling at each other, please remember the communication we experienced today in this room. And if you need a reset, remember this position you’re in. Return to it. Speak to each other like we did. Practice. Because if we’re not practicing, we’re never going to win.”
Eh, the last part could have used some adjustments, but then again, there’s only so much you can do when it comes to comparing a marriage to a sports team.
“You can find Ellison over by the dining hall. I’ll let her know that you’re looking for her.” He shoos us. “Now get out of here.”
“When we signed up for this camp, I never thought we’d be stringing beads,” Scottie says as her feet dangle over the dock, the lake right below us.
“Neither did I,” I answer. “Nor did I think I’d enjoy it.”
“Same,” she says as she holds up her bracelet. “What do you think?”
I take in her pink, purple, and white alternating beads and her name in the middle of it all. “Love it,” I say. “You need to add more beads though.”
“My wrist isn’t that big,” she says.
“Who says that’s for your wrist?”
She stares down at the name and then back up at me. “It has my name on it.”
“Yeah, and are you forgetting who is supposed to be claiming you?” I point to my chest. “That would be me.”
“Are you telling me you’re going to wear this friendship bracelet?”
“Isn’t that why you’re making it? For me?”
“Uh, I was making it for me.”
“Well.” I shake my head. “Don’t I feel like a fool.” I hold up my bracelet, showing her the black beads and the letters in the middle that spell out “Wilder’s Girl.”
“Wait, did you make that for me?”
“Yeah, Pips. That’s the whole point of this activity. To make something for each other.”
“Where the hell did you get that idea?”
I reach to the side and lift up the activity paper that Ellison gave us. “The directions.”
She takes the paper from me and looks over it for a few seconds and then says, “Huh, it does say that.”
“Yeah, it does. Then again, you’ve been in a fog since we got here, not saying much.”
She starts stacking on more pink, purple, and white beads and says, “Yeah, I know. Sorry about that.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“I don’t know,” she sighs.
“Maybe you should. Because isn’t that what we’re here for? For you to shed the burden of your ex that you’ve been carrying around?”
She slowly nods. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Let me ask you this,” I say, helping her out with the conversation. “Did your ex not give you the attention you deserved? It seems to be a recurring theme with everything we’ve talked about in these sessions.”
She sighs. “Because toward the end, he just stopped caring. Didn’t say hi when I got home from work. Didn’t care to kiss me good night. Didn’t even think it was important to have dinner with me at times. He just…just didn’t consider me important enough to grant me his time.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Seems like his loss though, because I’ve enjoyed spending time with you immensely.”
“You don’t have to say that to make me feel better,” she says.
I tie off her bracelet and then take her hand in mine. I slide it over her wrist and say, “There’s one thing I can guarantee you—I won’t say shit just to make you feel better. I say what I mean.” I look her in the eyes. “I enjoy spending time with you, Scottie. You’re fucking cool.”
Her cheeks blush as she stares down at her bracelet.
“Thank you.”
“And this is where you say I’m pretty cool too.”
She chuckles and then ties up her bracelet as well. She slips it onto my wrist and says, “You’re pretty cool too, Wilder.”