The Summer Off Grid (The Summer #2)

Chapter One

The Surprise Engagement

Ingrid

Wilder Cox isn't just my first love's best friend. He's the reason I'm not stuck in a long-distance, unfulfilling relationship with Cash Allred right now.

Don't get me wrong, Cash Allred has decent qualities of his own—honest, brave, attractive. But he's not bottled-up lightning. He's not rare or electric. He's not wild.

Cash Allred is the past. Wilder Cox is my present—my future.

Thank gawd.

The bright sun catches the tiny heart diamond on my left ring finger. A promise about our future. I haven't taken it off since Wilder gave it to me at the end of last summer.

You're mine, Blondie.

And he's mine, too.

“Geronimo!” Wilder interrupts the fond memory as he jumps out of the oak tree and into the creek below.

I watch from my towel as his dark head disappears beneath the crystal-blue water.

A year ago, I would have held my breath, anxiously waiting to see if he broke his neck. But now, I wait patiently for him to reappear. Now that I live a little more like Wilder—more adventurous, freer, truer to myself. A lesson I'm grateful Wilder Cox taught me last summer.

“He hasn't resurfaced yet,” Cash groans beside me.

“Give him a minute,” I say. “You know he's fine. He's just messing with you.”

Cash stands anyway and hurries over to the creek. “What if this is the one time—”

“Your face,” Wilder sputters as his head shoots out of the water. “You fall for it every time, Cash.”

“What if one day you actually need help?” Cash shoots back. “You ever think about that?”

Wilder wades out of the creek, beads of water clinging to his lean torso. I can’t help staring.

“You worry too much,” he says as he claps his best friend's back.

“Someone has to,” Cash grunts as Wilder makes his way over to me.

“Blondie.” Wilder's hazel eyes sparkle in the afternoon light as he bends to grab his towel. “You knew I'd be alright.”

Blondie. He still uses that nickname around Cash. But when we're all alone—when it's just us—he calls me Ingrid.

I shrug and remind him, “If you break your face, Archibald Allred is a plastic surgeon. He can fix it.”

Wilder gives me a playful wink. “Speaking of your dad, Cash, how is he doing?”

But Cash dives into the water, avoiding the question.

“Stop bugging him,” I quietly warn Wilder. “He's having a hard time processing Archibald's new life.”

“Why?” Wilder plops down beside me, planting a soft, lingering kiss on my sunburned shoulder.

“Because unlike you, Cash is still figuring out how to share his absentee father with a half-sister.”

“He'll be fine.” Wilder's hand slides along my bare stomach and I inhale sharply as his eyes rake over my body. “He has us.”

I take a deep breath, half lost in Wilder's eyes, half annoyed by him being a total delulu.

Cash always has us, but he's still not over last summer.

“What if we're not enough, Wilder?” I push. “What if we—”

“Ingrid.” He scoots closer and cups my cheek in his cool hand. “We can't save Cash. We make a path and hope he saves himself.”

I feel guilty that I'm madly in love with Wilder, and Cash can barely stomach an afternoon at the creek with the two of us.

“Stop beating yourself up,” Wilder says as he runs his fingers through my hair.

“I'm trying.” I tilt my head to the side as his fingers gently massage my scalp.

Wilder leans in and I get lost in the golden flecks of his hazel-green eyes. “Ingrid.”

My name falls from his lips like magic. Fuzzy, popping, iridescent.

“What?” I give him a small smile.

“I love you,” he mutters loud enough so only I can hear.

“I love you, too.” I melt like an ice cream cone in the summer heat.

Wilder presses his lips to mine. It's chaste and innocent.

It's the type of kiss he sneaks when Cash is close by, but he doesn't want to get caught.

Wilder reserves the passionate, fiery kisses for my bedroom.

For the hours we spend beneath my sheets.

For the times he calls me Ingrid in safe, secret places.

“I think I'm ready to go home,” Cash announces as he interrupts another stolen moment.

I clear my throat and stand. “We should probably go, too. Wilder and I have an uncomfortable Winthrop family dinner to attend. Come to think of it, you should join, Cash. Maybe you'll lighten the mood.”

“Isla will be there,” Wilder warns. “And she said she has a big announcement.”

Cash raises his eyebrows. “I think I'll skip. I'm not in the mood for Isla's theatrics.”

“You sure?” Wilder presses.

Cash checks his phone and I watch the corner of his lips tip up. “Yeah, I'm sure.”

He responds to whoever messaged him while Wilder and I share a curious look.

“Who are you chatting with?” Wilder asks.

Cash's cheeks burn red. “N-no one.”

“Um...” Wilder clicks his tongue. “That response would suggest otherwise.”

“It's just a friend,” Cash rubs the back of his neck. That's his tell. He's lying.

“A girlfriend?” Wilder teases him.

“Wilder,” I chastise, “stop embarrassing Cash.”

Cash straightens. “I'm not embarrassed. I’m just not interested in talking about my love life with you two.” I flinch at those last words before Cash adds, “No offense.”

But I am offended. I didn’t know Cash had a love life. I wouldn’t know. He doesn’t really talk to me.

Wilder's eyes widen as he holds out his hand to me. “Come on, Blondie. Let's not intrude on Cash's love life.”

“I didn't mean...” Cash trails off as I slip my fingers into Wilder's.

I notice Cash's face flash with annoyance as his eyes lock on our twined hands.

“It's just this girl I've been talking to,” Cash exhales heavily. “She lives in California. It's… not a big deal.”

Wilder squeezes my fingers lovingly. “If you have something to say, then get it off your chest, Cash. We're all adults here.”

He's defending my honor. Or trying to. I really wish he wouldn't.

Cash scoffs. “You are the farthest thing from an adult, Wild.”

“This conversation is going nowhere,” I interrupt. “Can we just go?”

Wilder nods. “Yeah.”

Cash goes to say something, but I shoot him a warning glare. There's unfinished business between us. Between all of us. Now is not the time to hash out the weird childhood best friends love triangle drama I’ve found myself in.

“Ingrid,” Cash says quietly. “I'm… sorry.”

I shake my head. “It's fine.”

Wilder tugs me closer. He's trying to comfort me with his nearness, but I feel anything but comfortable right now.

When we reach Wilder's truck, he takes my bag from me saying quietly, “Ignore him.”

“I'm trying,” I lament.

“I'm sorry I invited him this afternoon,” Wilder mutters in my ear as Cash climbs into his truck. “I thought he'd behave.”

I shrug. “Maybe I should stay home next time. Give you two some bro time. Besides, being the third wheel in your friendship is awkward.”

Wilder frowns as his fingers find my waist. “You are not the third wheel, Ingrid. He is.”

“He hates me,” I remind him.

“He hates himself.”

“When did you stop feeling guilty?” I swallow hard. “About how our relationship started?”

Wilder places my bag carefully in the bed of his truck before saying, “I guess when I realized I make you happy and Cash never did—never could.”

“Wilder,” I whisper.

“We're happy, Ingrid. Don't let Cash ruin that. Please.”

It's not that simple.

Cash doesn't punish Wilder with underhanded remarks and sarcastic comments the way he's always punishing me. Cash let him off the hook a while ago.

Now, I’m bearing the guilt and the punishment of last summer. The summer we all made choices and decisions that forever altered our relationships.

Cash lays his hand on the horn, scaring the living daylights out of me.

“Hurry up!” he barks.

I lick my lips as Wilder presses his forehead to mine. “It's going to be okay, Blondie.”

Wilder holds the driver's side door open and I crawl inside. My elbow grazes Cash's as I put on my seatbelt, and he lets out an audible groan of disgust.

I ignore the sharp pang in my chest as I tuck my arms against my body.

After all this time, Cash's rejection still hurts. Every grunt of dissatisfaction—every dig at my expense—is a reminder that even when Cash claimed to love me, he still made me feel small.

Somehow, he still does.

The drive home is more uncomfortable than a Winthrop family dinner. Wilder keeps one hand on the steering wheel and the other on my bare thigh while Cash ignores us, staring out the open window as the late afternoon breeze rushes past.

If I had my way, there'd be a backseat in this truck. And I'd be sitting in it. I’m tired of being stuck between these two every time we go somewhere together.

Wilder taps my leg when we turn down our street. A subtle nudge letting me know it'll just be the two of us soon. Cash and the rain cloud over his head will be three doors down.

“Will you be home later?” Cash asks Wilder as we file out of the truck.

Wilder grabs my bag and shakes his head. “I'm staying with Blondie tonight.”

Cash smirks before walking away. “Of course, you are.:

My heart throbs in my chest as Wilder reaches for my hand. “I know you didn't ask me to stay.”

“I want you to.” I let out a sigh of relief as Cash disappears down the street. “I always want you to.”

“Good.” Wilder gives me a breathtaking smile before wrapping his arms around me.

I watch over his shoulder as Cash glances back at us, his body stiffening before turning down the Wilder's grandparents’ driveway.

Thankful the afternoon is over, I bury my face in Wilder's neck, inhaling his woodsy scent.

“Get a room!” We both hear as an engine cuts off in the driveway.

I twist in Wilder's arms and see my scarlet-haired older sister staring boredly at her nails.

Isla Winthrop, Queen of Debauchery and Denial, has officially arrived.

“Where's your broom?” I call.

Isla whips her head back in confusion. “I'm not a maid.”

“I thought witches only traveled by broomstick,” I retort as I flash my eyebrows at her.

Wilder doesn't bother holding in a loud laugh.

“Har har.” Isla bristles. “You're hilarious.”

“I am.” I turn to face Wilder, feeling lighter. “Aren't I?”

Wilder kisses me hard, his tongue slipping between my lips as Isla fake gags from her spot in the driveway.

When he finally breaks the kiss, I'm barely able to catch my breath. “That was...”

“Yeah, it was.” Wilder smiles wide.

“It was disgusting!” Isla hollers as a gray-haired older gentleman wearing a bowtie and thick spectacles appears.

“Who are you?” I ask the strange man.

“This is Harvey Templeton.” Isla cuddles against him.

Wilder and I share a horrified look.

“We're here with important news,” Isla says as she stares up at Harvey with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“Oh, yay,” I grumble as Wilder's hand finds my back.

“This is going to be—” Wilder quietly mumbles in my ear.

“A disaster,” I finish for him.

I lead the way as Isla rambles off information about our parents to Harvey the Senior Citizen.

“Remember,” Isla's tone comes across as insolent and authoritative, “Jill is a dog walker and Jason has worked his way up to account manager at the firm.

They're working-class, upstanding citizens who will love and adore you just like I do.

They won't care that you're thirty years older than I am or that you walk a little slower since you had the hip replacement.” There’s a pause as Wilder and I share a perturbed look.

“We really should have brought your cane.”

I want to vomit. I want to hurl my guts. I want to expel the turkey sandwich I had for lunch.

Seriously, the Queen of Debauchery and Denial is actually the Queen of Decrepit and Delusional.

I'm not sure who's worse. Frank the Fornicator or Harvey the Hobbling Senior Citizen.

“Judgment is leaking from your pores,” Wilder mumbles.

“I can't help it,” I whisper-yell back. “He's… old.”

“Ah!” Mom screeches when she sees Wilder. “The legend is here.”

I run a hand over my face at the same time Dad does.

“What legend?” Isla pops her head in the door above me.

“The legend of Wild Cox, dear.” Mom waves her off with a flick of her wrist. “Wilder, I need your help with the printer again. Jason,” Mom throws Dad a frustrated scowl, “changed the settings on me and I need my flyers for tomorrow's summer school job fair.”

“Why do you need flyers for the job fair?” I ask.

“Because Ingrid,” Mom sing-songs, “Tolly Moffet from the Three-Hole Donut Shop suggested I secure a booth to talk to The Future Dog Walkers of America.”

“Three holes?” Wilder shoots me a sultry grin.

I ignore him and give Mom a quizzical look. “The Future Dog Walkers of America? Is that a club?”

“No, Ingrid.” Mom snaps her fingers together. “Keep up. I'm going to talk to teenagers about a potential career in dog walking.”

“Oh.” I tilt my head to the side. “Okay.”

“There's no club. Just a tribe of teenagers. Got it now?” Mom elbows Wilder in the arm. “She's a little slow.”

Dad shrugs helplessly as Wilder chuckles.

“Can you move?” Isla growls from the doorway before she shoves me out of the way. “Mom, Dad, this is—”

“You must be Mr. Templeton,” Mom cuts her off and rushes forward. She shakes Harvey the Hobbling Senior Citizen's hand. “It's nice to meet you. I'm so looking forward to meeting your son, Harvey. Isla has mentioned how wonderful he is.”

“Uh.” I scoff as I finally regain my footing. “That is Harvey, Mom.”

“W-what?” Mom stares at me, perplexed.

“You're shaking Harvey's hand.” I point to the old man in our house. “That's not his dad. That's him.”

Mom's face pales. “Ingrid, go to your room. Right now.”

“What did I—”

“Now,” Mom instructs as her eyes bulge out of her head.

“Good luck,” I say to Dad as I grab Wilder's hand.

Wilder and I race to the top of the stairs, then strategically crouch on the landing, watching through the slats in the railing as the shitshow below begins to unfold.

“What's going on, Isla?” Mom rubs her temples. “Why is Ingrid saying this is Harvey?”

“Because it is Harvey.” Isla dramatically wraps her arms around her elderly lover.

“No.” Mom holds her hands out at her sides. “You said that you met Harvey in class. You made him out to be young, Isla.”

“We did meet in class,” Harvey the Hobbling Senior Citizen finally speaks. “I was her professor.”

“Oh, for the love of God.” Dad slams his fist on the entryway table. “What is wrong with you, Isla?”

“We're in love, Daddy,” she fake cries while holding up her left hand. “Harvey proposed and I said yes.”

“I can't.” Mom begins pacing. “First an affair with her TA, now this?”

“And I'm pregnant.” Isla places her hand on her stomach as Wilder and I both gasp.

Mom starts swaying, and I yell from the top of the stairs, “She's going to faint, Dad! Grab her!”

But Jason Winthrop doesn't catch Jill in time, and all hell breaks loose.