Chapter Six
The Road Trip
Ingrid
“No,” I say firmly, shaking my head. “Hell no, Wilder.”
“It's just a week,” he practically begs, holding up his hands. “Or two.”
“I can't take two weeks off from my summer job to road trip across the country with you and Cash.”
Why would he even suggest it?
“I'm sure Loretta will understand.” Wilder raises his eyebrows at me. “Isla isn't busy. Maybe she can work in your place.”
Ugh.
That's not exactly the worst idea in the world.
“What about Cash?” I scowl. “We can't get along for one conversation. How do you expect us to spend a week—or two—stuck together? In a car?”
“He's going to try his best,” Wilder promises.
“This is Cash we're talking about.”
Wilder bites his lip and I almost forget that this is an asinine idea. A week crossing the country with Wilder sounds like a dream. Exactly how I'd want to spend my summer.
The open road.
Wilder driving.
Places to see.
And Cash.
“He'll be on his best behavior,” Wilder tries.
I take a deep breath and climb onto his lap, straddling his waist. My nerves nearly undo me.
“I don't know. How important is this to you?”
“Very important.”
I gnaw on the inside of my cheek. “I need to think about it.”
Wilder's hands run through my hair as he stares into my eyes. The kind of stare that makes me forget why I would ever say no.
“I promise I'll keep him under control,” he says, his voice all gravelly and rough.
I hate when he talks. He could talk me into anything.
“I didn't realize Cash Allred was capable of being under control,” I retort.
“Ingrid.” Wilder chuckles as I snake my arms around his shoulders. Great, he’s using my name. He’s really pulling out all the stops. “His parents have controlled him all his life. He's used to it.”
“What if this trip ruins your friendship?” I ask.
“It won't.”
I smile at his stupidity. “It's hanging on by a thread. Every time you choose me instead of him, I see the thread breaking a little more. I see it every time.”
“We'll figure it out.”
“I want to believe you,” I groan, blowing out an exhausted breath. “I do, but we both know you're lying.”
He swallows hard. “I need to get away, Ingrid.”
I'm guessing this is the part where he tells me he's going whether I want to or not.
“But,” he continues, “if you don't want to go—if you want to stay here— then I'll stay with you.”
Not the answer I was expecting.
He’d choose me over Cash.
That’s not nothing.
Not for Wilder.
“You really want to go?” My eyebrows knit together as I scrutinize his response.
“I do,” he answers as the cords of his neck tighten.
There's something he's not telling me. A reason he needs to run.
But he's not running from me. He wants me to run with him. Which makes my stomach tie in knots.
I search his minty green eyes, their gold flecks warm and inviting. What are you running from, Wilder? What is it?
The door swings open and we both hear Cash audibly inhale. I move to get off Wilder, but his hands find my hips and he holds me in place.
“Am I interrupting?” Cash's voice comes out hard.
“Yeah,” Wilder answers. “Give us a few minutes?”
Cash tosses his backpack on his cot in the corner. “Yep.”
The door closes with a resounding click and Wilder presses his forehead to mine. I ignore the achy feeling in my lower stomach as his hands slide up my back.
He's not telling me something. He said no more secrets, but I know him. He has secrets. Ones he’s not ready to share.
I know I should push, but he's stubborn. He won't tell me until he's ready.
When are you going to be ready, Wilder?
“Let me talk to Isla,” I give in.
Wilder's face breaks into something achingly beautiful. “Yeah?”
“Rules,” I breathe. “We'll need rules.”
“And a bucket list,” Wilder grins.
“A road trip bucket list?”
He nods as his lips graze the corner of my lips. “Yes.”
“Wilder,” I exhale as his fingers slip under my shirt. “Cash is literally in the next room.”
“Shhh,” he tsks me.
Wilder's mouth finds the skin beneath my ear, and he sucks gently. I giggle against the top of his head as he drags his tongue along my collarbone. Every swipe a reminder that me he wants me.
“Wilder,” I whisper. At first, it comes out like a plea. Then, a reluctant pause. “Wilder.”
“I can be quick,” he murmurs.
I cup his cheek in my hand. “You've never been fast.”
“Maybe the first three times,” he teases. “What can I say? I like taking my time with you.”
I ignore his sly advances.
“We need to talk to Cash,” I say, forcing us back to the conversation at hand.
Wilder kisses me, his lips soft and slow. I lean in, needing to be as close to him as possible. He opens his mouth, letting the tip of my tongue slide along his. Spears of heat prick my core and I roll my hips against his jeans, needing him.
He laughs against my mouth.
“What?” I pull away, my heart pounding against my chest.
“Nothing,” he lies.
“Wilder Cox,” I scold him. “You are a terrible liar.”
“I can't lie to you, Blondie.”
He smiles, fire shining in his hazel eyes before he kisses my nose. “It's impossible.” He kisses my cheek. “Incomprehensible.” His lips hover over mine. “Unfeasible.”
“You're impossible,” I sigh as my fingers dig into his soft hair.
“We're going on a road trip,” he breathes.
“If Isla agrees to cover my shifts,” I clarify.
“Oh.” Wilder smirks, lifting me with him. “She'll agree.”
“Where are we going?” I hold on tight as he heads toward the door.
He tugs it open and hollers, “Cash!” down the hall before taking me back to his bed.
“We should...” I trail off as I hear Cash's footsteps. “Detangle.”
Wilder kisses me before saying, “Fine.”
“Don't stop making out on my account,” Cash snips as he walks into the room and plops down on his cot.
I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest.
Wilder holds up a hand. “Really, Cash?”
Cash briefly closes his eyes. “Sorry, it’s been a crappy day.”
This. This is exactly why a road trip is not going to work. I can't control my facial expressions and Cash can't control his mouth.
“Blondie is going to talk to Isla and see if she can cover her shifts at Loretta's,” Wilder tells him. “If she'll do it, we can leave on Monday.”
That's in two days.
He never said it was this quick.
“Monday?” I smack my lips. “So soon?”
Wilder and Cash share a look. It lasts a beat too long, and my heart skips. Does Cash know why Wilder wants to get out of town so quickly? Why would he tell him? Why wouldn't he tell me?
“Yeah,” Wilder says, hitching his shoulder. “The sooner we're on the road, the sooner we can dip our toes in the Pacific Ocean for the first time.”
Wilder shoots me a grin, his gorgeous eyes crinkling. So, I push away the worry settling like a rock in my stomach.
Cash scoffs, and for a split second, my eyes dart to his disgusted face. Wilder's hand finds my leg, pulling my attention back to him.
“Whose car are we taking?” I ask.
“I don't have one,” Cash volunteers.
“How have you been getting to work, then?” I frown.
“Mr. Thatcher has been dropping me off and picking me up,” Cash supplies.
Ah. Wilder's grandpa. Should have known.
“My truck probably won't make it,” Wilder exhales, scratching the back of his neck. “The front end needs to be rebuilt and I have an oil leak.”
That just leaves...
Two pairs of eyes land on me.
“You want to take my car?” I swallow harshly.
“I mean...” Cash pauses. “We could rent a car.”
But Wilder doesn't exactly have the cash to help pay for it. And neither do I.
I'm assuming Cash doesn't either.
“We can take my car,” I decide. “We can split gas three ways.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Cash agrees. A little too quickly.
“I can take your car in for a tune-up tomorrow,” Wilder offers. “Have them make sure everything is ready to go.”
“We need rules,” I state. “If we're going to be confined to my car, then we need rules.”
“Don't fight,” Wilder suggests, glancing between Cash and me. “Don't argue. Don't talk about the past.”
“Kissing.” Cash clears his throat. “Don't do it in front of me.”
“Fine,” I say as my eyes drift to Wilder. He's giving me a strange look. “What?”
“A week,” he replies.
“A week?” I shake my head as his eyes dart from me to... Wild Cox.
“You can't go a week?” Cash groans. “One week?”
“The longest we've gone is like...” Wilder looks to me.
“Three days,” I answer for him.
“You're serious?” Cash runs a hand over his face. “I guess the legend of Wild Cox lives on.”
This is getting uncomfortable.
“No talking about the legend of Wild Cox,” I say, raising an eyebrow. “That topic is off limits for us.”
“Definitely,” Cash agrees.
Wow, we actually agree on something. I think Cash might be thinking the same thing I am because we stare at each other for a second, and the intense emotion to gouge his eyes out dissipates.
“Stop staring at my best friend!” Wilder blurts out, interrupting whatever innocent moment Cash and I were having.
I furrow my brow as Wilder's mouth forms a tight line.
“I wasn't staring,” I defend myself. “I was just... shocked.”
“Yeah,” Cash chuckles. “Me too.”
“Maybe we can get along,” I offer with a shrug.
Yeah, we can. I know we can. We can put the past behind us and forget about everything for one week. Seven days. 168 hours.
Right?
“I wouldn't go that far,” Cash grunts, whipping his head back. “I tolerate you, Ingrid. Barely. And mostly because Wilder asked me to.”
Or not.
“Fuck you,” I say to him. “Seriously, Cash, fuck you.”
“That's...” Wilder exhales heavily.
“What?” I say to Wilder as I motion to Cash. “He wants to take my car to drive across the country to meet a girl. The least he could do is be nice and keep his shitty comments to himself.”
“This is supposed to be fun,” Wilder expresses as he laces his fingers with mine. “Fun is spelled F-U-N. Not F-U.”
He's trying to be funny. He's trying to lighten the mood. But I've reached my boiling point.
“Apologize,” I demand as my eyes narrow in Cash's direction.
“I'm sorry you were offended by what I said.” Cash raises a defiant eyebrow.
“No,” I snarl. “Apologize for every fucked-up thing you've done to me the past five years.”
“I'm not doing that,” Cash argues and stands.
“Then, I guess you'll be renting a car by yourself,” I challenge. “Because if I'm not going, Wilder says he's not going either.”
“Blondie,” Wilder sighs under his breath.
Whoops. Guess I wasn't supposed to tell Cash that.
Oh, well.
“You're joking, right?” Cash directs to Wilder.
“I'm not spending a week without her, Cash,” Wilder delivers the news as he scratches the side of his face. “Just say you're sorry and be done with it.”
“I'm not sorry.”
“Of course, you're not,” I say as I rise from Wilder's bed. “Have a good summer, Cash. I know Wilder and I will.”
Then, I head out the door and hurry down the hall.
There's no way in hell I'm cross-country road-tripping with Cash fucking Allred.
No. Way.
There's a knock on my bedroom door. I turn the music up on my phone and shove my earbuds into my ears. The knocking, however, is louder and more persistent than the clamorous and chaotic beats.
I toss my earbuds aside and walk over to the door. If Queen Isla of the Delulu Isles is standing on the other side, I will burn this whole place down. She hasn't stopped bugging me about my room since she decided it will soon be her nursery.
“WHAT?” I roar as I fling it open.
Blond hair. Blue eyes. The last person I want to see standing in my doorway.
“What do you want now?”
“Can I come in?” Cash asks.
I stare up at him like he's grown a second head. “Why?”
“We need to talk,” he says as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “And I owe you an apology.”
An apology? Didn’t know he had it in him.
Reluctantly, I step aside to let him in.
I watch as he walks over to the mirror hanging over my dresser. Pictures of Wilder and me are taped to the edges.
Cash scans all of them before turning to face me.
“You never taped pictures of us to your mirror when we were dating,” he says, hurt, as he gestures over his shoulder with his thumb.
“What do you want?” I ask again.
He runs a hand through his blond hair. “We loved each other once, right?”
“I think so,” I answer. “But recollections may vary.”
“How do you...” He pauses and exhales heavily. “How do you move on?”
“From what?”
“From loving someone to watching them be loved by someone else?” he clarifies.
“I'm going to be really honest with you for a moment,” I tell him. “And I don't want you to make some stupid remark, okay?”
“Okay.”
“For most of our relationship, it didn't feel like you loved me. It felt like you... like you kept me around because you loved how much I loved you.”
“That’s not true, Ingrid.”
He's not getting it. Big surprise there.
“You were more interested in what I gave to you than what you gave to me,” I say as I wrap my arms around myself, wishing Wilder was here. “That's not love.”
“That’s not the way I remember it.” Cash takes a step forward. “I loved you. I loved you more than... well, I suppose that's not important now.”
“You had a funny way of showing it,” I remark.
“I'm sorry,” Cash tries. “I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I didn't mean to. There wasn’t love in my house, Ingrid. Not real love. Everything was control or manipulation, and I didn’t know how to bring that into us without ruining it. So, I kept pushing you away.”
“I appreciate you saying that,” I say, treading carefully.
But it doesn’t change anything. He hurt me. He left me. He left Wilder. Then, he came back and expected everything to be the way it was.
We all live in difficult houses. I do. Wilder does. Cash did.
Every house has its problems. Cash doesn’t get to be the only one wounded.
I’m not Wilder. I won’t let Cash off the hook because his parents are shitty people. They were shitty, but they still gave him everything he wanted.
“Please, come with us,” Cash practically begs. “It could be good for the three of us.”
I shake my head. “I don't know.”
“I will try my best to keep my mouth shut,” Cash promises. “But it's hard. That's not an excuse. It’s just hard because I thought I gave up everything for you. I'd do it again if I had to. I didn’t think I'd lose you to Wilder. It's been hard to wrap my mind around for the past year.”
Cash didn't give up everything for me, but whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore.
“Okay.”
“Okay, as in you'll go?” Cash leans forward.
“I will talk to Isla tomorrow.”
I head for my door and grab the handle.
Cash takes the hint. When he reaches me, he stops. “Thank you.”
I'm not doing it for him. I'm doing it because Wilder is running from something. And staying here and dealing with it scares me more than running.
I don’t want to lose him.
I can’t lose him.
“Have a good night.”
“Wild is...” Cash trails off. “Just be careful. The last thing I want to see is you hurt.”
Could have fooled me.
“Wilder isn't you,” I reply. “He's not going to hurt me.”
“You sure about that?”
No, I’m not sure.
But Cash was raised by people who manipulated everyone around him.
I don’t trust him.
“Yes,” I answer.
Cash leaves without saying another word, but that look Wilder and Cash shared earlier pops into my head.
They're not telling me something.
But is it for Cash's benefit?
Or Wilder's?