41. Reed #2
Ignoring him, his friend pushes on. “Unless you’ve been sharing your bed with Cade too,” Casper jokes, finding himself far too funny, and my cheeks heat.
“Which would be very interesting, but yes, of course I mean Wilder.” He rolls his eyes.
“He dipped out of his own celebrations, turned his phone off, and now we can’t find him.
” He slumps onto the end of my bed and tips more of the champagne in his mouth.
“Where have you looked?” I ask them both, but Casper is still the one who answers.
“I went to his room and then came straight here. Where else would he be?” When I just stare at him in shock, he continues.
“Come on, Reed, you don’t really think you two fucking is a secret, do you?
Sure, Wilder threatened us with bodily harm if we uttered a single word about it, but you can’t exactly hide the way you both look at each other like lovesick puppies. ”
My heart starts to hammer in my chest as I look between the two of them, and Bobby only shrugs. “It really is quite obvious.”
Despite my body reacting to their words with panic, I find that I don’t actually care that they know about Wilder and me.
I know they won’t say anything to anybody, especially if Casper isn’t joking about Wilder’s threats.
Something that actually warms my heart, because despite knowing he’s a private person, I know his only reason for doing that is to protect me.
Ignoring their observations I clear my throat. “Well, I’m sure he will turn up.”
Casper’s mouth twitches. “You probably know where to find him better than we do,” he grunts, pushing off my bed. “Call us when you find him.”
My head is already spinning, so Casper’s words take a second to register. “Wait, what?” I follow them toward the door, but Casper is already ripping it open like an uncoordinated toddler.
“I really need to get his ass in bed,” Bobby sighs beneath his breath, pausing only slightly before he turns to me, surveying me closely in a way that reminds me of Caden.
“Maybe you can check the roof.” His words hang in the air between us, as I realize that’s probably exactly where he is, and I nod slightly.
I close the door behind them, telling myself it’s not my business, that I need to let Wilder be and leave him alone.
Except two minutes later I have my shoes on, and I’m in the elevator heading up.
It takes me a moment to find the roof access, but when I do, the rooftop door creaks open quietly, the cool night breeze slamming into me instantly.
There is still a skyline of city lights surrounding us despite the late hour, but my eyes zero in on him instantly.
Wilder is leaning against one of the cement barriers of the roof, with a cigarette glowing between his fingers.
He’s wearing his typical black hoodie and dark jeans, not looking dressed to party at all, but still looking perfect.
I mildly wonder if he celebrated at all tonight, and the thought that I might be the reason he didn’t kills me.
He doesn’t turn around when I approach him, but I know he knows I’m here, because his shoulders tense. “Casper sent you?”
His voice carries across the wind as I move closer, his question sounding inevitable, and it only makes me feel worse. "You knew it'd be me?"
A humorless laugh escapes him, as he sighs, "Come on, Blue." The nickname sounds tired, exhausted even, as he takes another drag. “It’s always you who finds me.”
My chest tightens, and for a long moment neither of us says anything, as I finally move beside him. It doesn’t feel the same as it has in the past, not without his flirty smile and taunting gaze, and I would give anything for things to go back to normal between us.
The cigarette glows again as he takes another drag. "You know those things'll kill you." It's the only thing I can think to say, and he huffs out a laugh.
"So will racing."
"Fair."
Silence settles between us again, the kind we have become strangely good at, and right now I hate it.
I hate that he won’t look at me, that his words sound flat, that he’s right next to me, but there is still a giant space between us.
And I know I’m the reason, that putting it there was necessary, but even knowing that, doesn’t make me feel better.
I want more, I want it more than I have ever wanted anything, and knowing I can’t have it is a new kind of cruelty I thought I’d never experience.
"I'm sorry,” I finally say, hating how the words taste so familiar.
Wilder takes another deep inhale of his cigarette, before he glances sideways. "For what?" he grunts, and I laugh softly, the sound getting stolen by the wind.
"Take your pick,” I sigh with a smile, but his expression doesn’t change, so I push on.
"For what happened at the hospital." Immediately, I see the understanding settle in his eyes, and the memory hits me just as hard. His hand reaching toward me, my instinctive reaction, pulling away from him like he’d burned me. "I'm sorry I flinched."
Wilder looks back out across the city, quiet for a moment, as he contemplates my words. "Don't apologize when we both know you meant it."
His words aren't meant to be cruel, but somehow that makes them worse, because he's right. I did mean it, not because I didn't want him touching me, and not because I didn't want him. It’s the opposite if I'm being honest, but our situation is what it is.
"I wish I didn't,” I reply softly, not knowing what else to say. "But it's ingrained in me." Years, decades, an entire lifetime of rules, expectations and fear. "It’s not just that I don't know how to do this, it’s that I can’t do this.”
The confession hangs between us, both raw and honest, and Wilder turns toward me fully now. "And what is this, Blue?" His eyes search mine and my chest tightens again, because I know the answer, I know it now more than I have ever known it.
It’s everything, but I can’t let it be, so instead I give him the only answer I can. "It’s a bit of fun." I almost choke on the words as I say them, fighting back the tears now burning in my stare. "That's all it can be, right?"
The silence that follows feels endless, and I don’t miss the flicker of pain that crosses his face, before he buries it beneath that easy confidence of his. “Right.” He nods once slowly, and for a moment I think that's it, that we have both accepted the lie.
Then he steps forward, closing the distance between us, as his hand slides gently against my jaw. Before I can flinch, before I can run, before I can remember just exactly why this is such a bad idea, he kisses me, and the world beneath me shifts forever.
I have one month left of freedom, which means one month left of him. So why not drown in the pain of what could be, before I have to lose him and myself forever.