Chapter Two
The Acceptance Letter
Wilder
Ingrid's alarm clock blares, waking me from the first solid night of sleep I've had in a week.
I sleep better when she's next to me.
And Cash isn't obnoxiously snoring on the cot in the corner of my room. That guy seriously needs some nasal strips. I’ve resorted to throwing pillows at him in the middle of the night. Even that doesn’t stop the sound coming from his nose.
“Ugh,” Ingrid groans as she reaches for her phone. “It's too early.”
“You're the one who wanted to work this summer,” I remind her as I pull her back to me and wrap my arms around her. “We could have slept in for three months straight.”
“Loretta begged me,” she explains as she buries her face in my chest. She smells like honey and cinnamon. “I couldn't say no.”
“You could have,” I tease her as her blond hair tickles my chin.
I inhale as her hand slides down my stomach, her fingers slipping beneath the waistband of my boxers. The second her hand wraps around me, I smile.
“You have a one-track mind,” I rasp.
She gazes at me with her big brown eyes. I almost forget to breathe.
“I can't help it.” Ingrid sinks her teeth into her lower lip and uses her knee to push me flat against the mattress. “I'm obsessed with you.”
I laugh as she pulls her hand out of my boxers and tugs the cotton T-shirt over her head. Instinctively, my hands find her bare breasts.
“No.” She laughs and tugs at my arms. “Help me get your boxers off first.”
I playfully roll my eyes as I lift my ass off the mattress and push the waistband down my hips. Ingrid practically rips the material off my legs and tosses them over her shoulder before she brings her mouth to the tip of my cock.
As the anticipation builds in my groin, I hear a strange sound.
“Urggh!”
Ingrid's eyes dart from my rock-hard dick to the wall.
“Urggh!” we both hear again.
“What the fuck is that?” I ask her.
“Urggh!”
“No.” Ingrid sits up, her face paling. “No, no, no!”
“What—”
“Harder, Harvey!” Isla's voice echoes on the other side of the wall.
“NO!” Ingrid yells as she jumps onto her feet and starts banging her hand on the bedroom wall. “Stop doing that! Stop making those noises!”
I run a hand over my face as my erection disappears.
Isla and Grandpa Harvey are having sex on the other side of the wall. And Ingrid? She's having a full-blown meltdown.
“Stop doing that to my sister!” she bellows as her palm slaps the wall again. “Stop!”
“Ingrid,” I call to her.
“He's... She's.... It's gross!”
“I know.” I reach out a hand.
Ingrid drops to her knees. “He's so old, Wilder.”
“Urggh!” we hear again.
“So. Old.” Her face falls. “What if he has a heart attack and dies while they're... while they're...”
“Having sex?” I finish for her.
“Wilder,” she says as she bursts into tears.
“Ingrid,” I say gently as I sit up. She falls into my open arms, the lightning bolt tattoo on her wrist pressing against the Blondie tattoo on my forearm.
“It's embarrassing, Wilder,” she mumbles into my chest. “First Frank the Fornicator. Now, Harvey the Hobbling Senior Citizen.”
I chuckle. “Have you ever thought that maybe Isla is in love?”
Ingrid lifts her head, her brown eyes glassy with tears. “With an old guy?”
“Yeah.” I nod my head. “He’s not ancient Ingrid. He’s just… older.”
“Isla isn't in love,” she says with disgust. “Isla's selfish. She's only engaged and pregnant because she's benefitting in some way. She's always been selfish and self-absorbed. This is no different.”
“Don't take this the wrong way,” I try, “but Harvey's in his late 50s. He's not on his deathbed.”
“What if he's dying?” Ingrid's mind begins whirring. “What if Isla is hoping to get his life insurance policy?”
I know I should bite my tongue, but I feel this weird sense of solidarity with Grandpa Harvey. We're both dating Winthrop women, and we're both outsiders. In this family, it’s good to have allies. Especially when Ingrid and Isla fight.
“People said things about you and Cash, too,” I remind her.
“Shut up,” she snaps at me before moving out of my grasp. “I was fifteen and madly in love with someone my age. Isla is twenty-one and Harvey is nearing retirement. It's not the same.”
“Where are you going?” I groan as she climbs off the bed.
“Work,” she hisses. And I'm not entirely sure why but pissed-off Ingrid is sexy as hell. Always has been. My dick raises to attention as she places her hands on her hips and her full, round breasts bounce on her chest. “Or have you forgotten that I have a summer job?”
“Come back.” I pat the bed. “I'll make you forget all about Isla and Harvey the Hobbling Senior Citizen.”
“I'm not having sex with you while he’s ejaculating in my sister right now.” She stomps her foot in protest.
“Ingrid,” I call after her as she opens her closet and starts ruffling through her clothes. “He's not that old yet.”
Instead of letting her ignore me, I roll out of bed and walk over to her.
“Come on,” I say as I rub her back.
“It's disgusting and inappropriate, Wilder,” she exhales.
“Sex?”
“No.” She twists to face me. “Isla and her professor.”
“To be fair,” I try to reason with her, “Isla's always been morally bankrupt. Did we expect something different from her?”
Maybe morally bankrupt is a little too harsh. Maybe she’s just lost.
“What happens when Archibald and Clementine find out?” Ingrid seethes. “What happens when the whole town finds out? My parents have been through enough. Now, a man our grandfather's age impregnated their daughter?”
“He's practically their age,” I say before I can stop myself.
Ingrid shoots me a death glare.
“I'm sorry,” I apologize as I lick my lips and run my fingers through her hair. “What can I do to help?”
She lets out a defeated sigh. “Can I move in with you? I can't spend the summer listening to whatever that was. I can't spend the summer with a pregnant Isla. I'll die, Wilder. I'll die.”
“I wish you could stay with me,” I click my tongue, “but Cash is still rooming with me.”
“Ugh! Cash ruins everything.”
“I'm sure your parents will take care of this,” I offer.
“You don't know Jason and Jill then,” Ingrid mutters. “They're sweet but completely spineless.”
“I love you,” I say, changing the subject as I graze her nipple with my thumb.
“I know what you're doing Wilder Cox.” Ingrid raises an eyebrow at me.
“What?” I innocently ask.
“I'm not—”
But I cut her off by picking her up and shutting the closet door behind us.
“Wilder!” she whisper-yells.
I push her up against her clothes as my mouth lands on hers. To my surprise, she returns my kiss with the same intensity.
Our tongues twist and our teeth clash as she reaches between us and grabs my dick. I hold in a grunt as she pumps me slowly, her tongue colliding with mine. Then, she arches her back, sinks onto me, and digs her nails into my shoulders.
Hell yes!
I thrust in and out of her as she moans in my ear. Soft, quiet, only-for-us moans. Moans that I think about most nights when she's three doors down and I'm stuck with Cash.
I live for the sounds she makes just for me.
“Faster,” Ingrid pants as she holds onto me tighter. “Faster, Wilder.”
I keep up the pace, kissing her neck as I drive myself into her. When she finally comes undone, I follow seconds later.
She keeps holding onto me, her grip tightening as I wrap my arms around her and gently set her on the ground.
“I can't do this,” she whispers.
“Can't do what?” I begin panicking. I panic a lot these days. Every time I think she's going to walk away from me or end this, I panic.
Cash fucking Allred is part of the problem. Half the time, he makes everything worse. He says the stupidest shit at the most inconvenient times. He won’t let it go. Not with her.
“Can't do what?” I repeat.
“I can't deal with Isla,” she answers. “I can't do this again. Not for another summer. What am I going to do, Wilder?”
“We'll figure it out,” I promise her with a sigh of relief. “We'll find a way to deal with this.”
“Let's run away,” she mutters as she raises her head and presses her forehead to mine. “Just you and me.”
“I wish we could,” I smile, “but you promised Loretta you'd work this summer.”
“I did, didn't I?” She breathes hard.
“I love you,” I say in the quiet space between us.
“I love you, too,” she replies without missing a beat.
I breathe easy for now, but I'm scared. I'm terrified that she's going to stop loving me one day just like my dad did.
Parental abandonment leaves a hole nothing really fills.
Ingrid isn’t him. She never makes me feel the way he did.
I need to stop worrying. It's been a year. She's not going anywhere.
Ingrid lays her hand over my heart, her eyes big and searching.
“What?” I whisper.
“Your heart is beating so fast,” she replies.
“It always does that when you're near me.”
“What would I do without you, Wilder?”
I shake my head. “You'll never have to find out.”
She kisses me before opening the closet door to let the light in and begins searching for an outfit.
I watch as she gets dressed, braids her hair, and puts on mascara. I could watch her all day if she'd let me.
“Admit it,” she smirks as she grabs her purse. “You're obsessed with me, too.”
“I'm obsessed,” I tell her.
Obsessed doesn't even begin to cover what I feel for her.
“I have to go,” she says before kissing me goodbye. “I’ll see you after work.”
She leaves, and then I hear the worst sound in the world.
“Urgghh!”
Guess Grandpa Harvey and Isla are at it again.
Time for me to go home.
“You got something in the mail.” Cash points to my bedside table as I toss my keys on my bed.
I pick up the envelope and see that it's been torn open. “Why are you reading my mail?”
“Got confused,” he lies as he shrugs. “Thought it was for me.”
I roll my eyes as I flip it over and see the return address is NYU.
Shit.
“When are you going to tell her?” Cash boldly asks from his cot.
“When are you going to stop being a dick to her?” I clap back.
Cash glances up from his phone. “I don't try to be.”
“Well, you are.”
“I don't understand why we always have to do everything with her?” Cash argues. “Can't we ever just have alone bro time?”
He never felt that way when he was dating her.
I scoff. “We have alone bro time every fucking night, Cash.”
“You mean on the nights when you're not having sex with my ex-girlfriend.”
“I guess you shouldn't have ditched her for Europe then.” I smirk. “Maybe she'd still be your girlfriend.”
“You should tell her about New York,” Cash says, ignoring my dig. “If you hide it from her, she'll never forgive you.”
I unfold the letter and read it. My throat stings. I've been accepted. “Doesn't matter. I'm not going.”
“Why?” Cash sits up. “You got accepted into film school. That's amazing. You have to go.”
So many reasons, Cash. I’m not rich like you. I don’t have the luxury of chasing dreams. I don’t even know why I applied. It was an impulsive decision.
Ingrid.
I just got her. I can’t leave her.
“I'm not you,” I say as I tuck the letter into the table drawer. “I'm not leaving her.”
Even if Ingrid wanted to go to New York with me, I don’t have the money to pay for it.
“Not even for film school?”
“No,” I make clear. “And you better not tell her about this.”
“Or what?” Cash narrows his eyes.
“Or you can find somewhere new to crash,” I warn.
“Whatever.” Cash turns over. “Not my problem anymore.”
I miss the old Cash. He was selfish and spoiled, but he at least he cared.
A year ago, I thought Cash's friendship was the most important relationship in my life.
Now, it's Ingrid. Maybe it always was.
Either way, I can't go to NYU. I shouldn’t have applied. I can't leave her.
What would I do without you, Wilder?
You'll never have to find out.
And she won't.