Chapter 6
Indie
Several months later
“ I still can’t believe y’all have lived together this long, and neither of you has gone missin’ yet,” Wren laughs into the phone.
“Trust me, I’m just as shocked as you,” I respond honestly. “I wish you lived closer so we could be roommates again.” I run my fingers over the fuzzy purple and tan sloth stuffed animal I’ve been cuddled up with on the couch for the last hour.
Wren and I have lived together twice over the years since we met and became fast friends. The first time, we lived together for almost a year before I found a place closer to my job that I could afford. Though Wren was a good friend, and I loved living with her, a part of me always felt like I had intruded on her life, and I needed to get my shit together.
Not long after I moved out, Wren’s new boyfriend was living at her place with her. I didn’t much care for the stick in the mud, but I wasn’t the one who had to live with him. If she was happy, I was happy for her.
The apartment I rented ended up getting condemned for black mold shortly after I moved in. It felt like the universe was telling me I fucked up a good thing again. But now I’d have to find another solution to my problem because there was no way I was going to intrude on Wren again, especially when I’d be a third wheel.
For a few months, I bounced around from couch to couch and had a few places I called home. I eventually had a guy I was seeing off and on quite a bit, and I ended up moving in with him just as Wren’s relationship abruptly ended, and she moved to Twin Pines to be closer to her dad. I understood her desire to be close to family. I don’t see my dad often, but I try to go visit whenever I can.
When I was finally sick of the guy I was living with, I moved in with Wren to her place in Twin Pines and thankfully got a job at Vines and Vases, the plant nursery down the street from her house. The owner, Lucy, is now married to Wren’s grumpy older brother, Cal. She’s a sweet girl, and we’ve become good friends over the last year since she moved here.
That brings us to the present. Wren moved out, but this time to follow her career. I’m happy for her, and I was doing fine on my own at the house we had been renting together, but a while back, the landlord came over and told me he needed the house for his niece and that I’d have to move out within the month.
I searched for a place in Twin Pines for a while before finally taking Wilder’s offer the day after he texted me. The bad thing about these small towns is the lack of vacancies. Once people move here, they never seem to leave. I could have moved back to Alokin Falls, but I still don’t have a car, so I’d prefer to stay in town for my job.
Wild lived right down the street from me since he bought his dad’s house. He sweetened the pot when he told me about the large workshop with giant windows that I could use for studio space. I honestly don’t paint a ton, but when I’m needing a good head cleanse, sometimes the brush smoothing across the linen canvas is all the therapy I need.
Over the last few months, I’ve been saving up money to buy myself a new car since—once again—I bought a piece of junk that died a few months into owning it. I should have known that two grand for a car was too good to be true. My new life motto: You get what you pay for.
Hopefully, the next one I get will finally be a nice, reliable vehicle. I’ve almost saved enough and plan to have something before I go on my yearly trip to Willowfield to visit my mom’s gravestone.
For the last couple of years, Wren has driven us, and I always feel bad that we have to use her car. I’m almost thirty years old; I really need to get my shit together at some point.
Maybe I should make a list—people with their shit together always have lists.
Living with Wild has definitely had its upsides—the large workspace, for one. But if I’m stuck in a room with that man for too long, I may just end up killing him. He makes my fucking eyeballs twitch every time I’m near him.
Sometimes I don’t even know why. I’ll just see him and decide I want to slap him. But most of the time, he’s being an annoying pain in my ass. He’ll do or say something just to try to rile me up. It always works too, which pisses me off even more. Him having that kind of control irritates me. But not as much as the fact that half the shit he does turns me on, just as much as it annoys me.
Wilder Beckett is the last person I ever wanted to live with, but beggars can’t be choosers, and once again, I found myself in the former category.
We’ve lived together for a few months now, but with his long work schedule, I hardly ever see him. When he is home, I’m usually headed out the door. Either to go stay with Wren for a girl’s day up in the city, play at the coffee shop, or go to my own job.
“Hey,” Wren jumps in, pulling me from my rabbit trail of thoughts. “I gotta get the food outta the oven. I’ll talk to you later?” The beep of the oven timer grows louder in the background.
“Okay, talk later.”
We hang up, and I toss the phone down beside me.
I should call my Auntie June, but I know that phone call will last for hours, and I don’t have the energy right now. I used to talk to her every week—several times, in fact. But I’ve been so busy lately that I’ve been ignoring her calls and forgetting to call her back. I’m sure I’ll get an earful when I call her later tonight.
The front door swings open, and Wilder walks in just as I stand to find myself some dinner.
“What the hell is on your face?” I ask, staring at him as he pushes the door shut. It’s now that I’m realizing it’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen him. And that couldn’t be more obvious from the stubbly growth.
He runs his fingers smoothly over his upper lip. “It’s called a mustache, Ind.”
“Well, it wants to be a mustache,” I whisper to myself as I open the cabinet to search for a snack.
I really love the open floor plan of this house. Even standing in the kitchen, I can give Wild shit all the way into the living room.
“What?” he asks innocently. “I heard a lot of girls like them. Don’t knock it till you try it.” He pauses, and that Wilder grin morphs onto his face. “You wanna take it for a spin?” He waggles his eyebrows at me.
“Not on your life.” I reach into the yellow bag and toss a chip at him.
“C’mon, I’ll give you all the free rides your little heart desires.”
I roll my eyes, popping a chip into my mouth. I’ve learned it’s best not to look at his charming, stupid face when he’s being this way. If I do, I might just give in—and we definitely don’t want that.
Over the years I’ve known him, I’ve gotten pretty used to his teasing, and I know it’s all just a big game to him. He doesn’t pick and tease as much as he used to since I moved in, however, especially since we don’t see each other too often with our work schedules.
Since that night when he almost kissed me at the bar, he’s slacked off his taunting. Not that I’m complaining, but it has been a bit weird and out of character for him.
He drives me crazy most of the time, but right now, I really want to take him up on his offer.
Fuck, I need to get laid.
Searching my mental calendar for the last time I slept with anyone, I shake my head and clear it away. If it takes more than ten seconds to recall that, it’s clearly been too damn long. The cobwebs on my O calendar need some dusting, apparently—not that men usually do a good job of getting me there most of the time. That usually only happens when it’s a solo mission.
“Wild, I’m not in the mood for your shit today,” I sigh, grabbing the bag of potato chips and a Dr. Pepper from the fridge.
“Is that your dinner?” he asks, eyeing the bag in disgust.
“Potatoes are vegetables. This is a very grown-up meal.” I plop down on the couch and pop another chip into my mouth.
Walking over, he snags the bag from my hands. Eyes jumping from me to the bag, he turns it over and proceeds to read the back, his brow furrowing.
“This is straight-up shit, Ind. How do you put this in your body?”
“You’re one to talk. I’ve never seen someone eat as much candy and sweets as you do.”
His face relaxes into a serious expression.
“That’s different. Dessert is a food group.”
My eyes roll back so far that I think they may get stuck there.
“Well, we don’t all spend hours at the gym every day and count our calories. You worry about you, I’ll worry about me.” I take a swig from my can of carbonated perfection before snagging the bag of chips back from his hands.
I’m not overweight by any means. I’ve always had a fast metabolism and stayed on the smaller side. Could I run a marathon? Hell no. Could I even make it around the block without collapsing? Probably not. However, the closer I get to thirty, the slower my metabolism seems to be getting—made evident by the fact that my morning donut went straight to my ass today. Which is why I had to eat another one to even it out—don’t want one ass cheek bigger than the other.
Wild walks back into the kitchen and throws the cupboard open. Reaching up, he pulls bags and boxes from the shelves and glances over all of the bright-colored packaging.
“Jesus, Ind. How have you survived this long?” He sounds disgusted again.
“Oh, kiss my ass, Wild.”
I immediately regret the words when his eyes pop up from the mess in front of him.
“Okay,” he shrugs and walks toward me, a devilish gleam in his eye.
My hand shoots up, stopping him. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” I warn, knowing precisely what he’s about to do.
A low hum passes his lips as he smirks at me. He’s doing his best to hold himself back as he bites his cheek between his teeth, mulling over his choices.
“Make up your mind, woman. You know I’ll do it. Matter fact, next time you say it, it’s happenin’.” He points his finger at me. “Fair warnin’.” With a smile, he walks back to the cabinet, where he begins tossing boxes into the trash can behind him.
“What the hell?! I just bought that,” I spout as I jump up from the couch and make my way to the trash can.
“You’re lucky you have me. I’m savin’ your life.” He proceeds to toss all of the groceries I just bought into the trash.
“You’re payin’ me back for all that… and I’m gonna buy more, just so you know.”
He side-eyes me and lets out a long sigh.
“I’ll do you one better,” he says, peering up at the empty cabinet. “Put your shoes on. We’re goin’ to the store.”
Normally, I wouldn’t entertain Wilder’s antics, but I found myself curious as to what he’d buy at the store.
“I won’t eat that,” I say for the twelfth time as he throws another vegetable in the cart—another green one… surprise, surprise.
“Hush up over there.”
He continues to fill another clear plastic bag with an assortment of bell peppers. His hand lightly squeezing each pepper, feeling around for the best ones. The sight of his long fingers pressing into the firm vegetable gets my mind racing again. I quickly shake that thought away and peel my eyes off of him before my thoughts get too depraved in the middle of the produce section.
“Wild! Oh my gosh, I haven’t seen you in forever!” A blonde woman sneaks up beside him and wraps her arms around his midsection, pushing me aside. She smells like she may have dumped three bottles of perfume on her before coming to the grocery store this evening.
“Hey, Whitney.” Wild’s tone is lifeless as he lightly grips her shoulder and pulls himself from her grasp.
He looks uncomfortable, shifting from one foot to the other as he drags a hand over the back of his neck. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to be a dick, but he really doesn’t want to talk to this woman right now—or ever from the looks of it.
“You remember Indie?” he asks, turning in my direction and motioning to me.
Whitney’s eyes jump over to me and go wide when she recognizes me.
“Right. Hello, Indiana.” She gives a fake smile, causing her Botox and lip filler to be even more apparent.
Before I can respond to her, she turns her attention back to Wild, her hair nearly hitting me in the face from the quick movement. I desperately want to reach out and smack those hair extensions right off her head.
“Soo…,” she drawls out. “My roommate is gonna be out of town the next few nights. Did you wanna come over? I can make you some of that cake you liked so much at the fundraiser last month,” she says, running her hand up his arm, causing him to pull back.
Desperate much?
I seriously feel like I might barf all over this girl.
The uncomfortable look on Wild’s face is the only explanation for what comes out of my mouth next.
“Babe, I’m gonna grab some whipped cream for later. Meet me over there whenever you’re done talkin’ to your little friend.”
Shock crosses over both of their faces. Wild quickly closes his slackened jaw and lets out one of those panty-dropping smiles while Whitney proceeds to look like I just told her that Rocky Mountain Oysters aren’t oysters.
“Sure thing, babe ,” Wild responds with a smirk, the slightest tinge of pink appearing on his cheeks.
After I make my exit, it takes everything in me not to turn around and see the look on her face as he turns her down.
When I turn down the refrigerated section, I spot Wild still staring at me with that heart-stopping smile as Whitney continues to jab her jaws, twirling a strand of bleach-blonde hair between her fingers. Wild’s not paying a lick of attention to her, but she’s going on and on beside him, moving her free hand animatedly.
My eyes hold his a beat too long as I stand there gawking. His brow raises in question, probably wondering why the hell I’m frozen in place at the end of the aisle.
Busted .
Heat fills my cheeks, and I scurry down the aisle, pretending to look for God only knows what.
Helping people out isn’t something I do a lot. I especially don’t make a habit of helping people that I try my best to avoid.
So why the hell did I just step in and save him from that witch?