Wilder laughs softly, clearly enjoying this far too much, and slowly moves away. Unhurried. Like there’s nothing to hide.
“Next time,” he murmurs as he sinks back into the chair, not even looking at me, “I’ll make you come sitting at the table.”
The words hit me like a punch.
Heat floods my body, my breath catching as my panties grow damp in exactly the way he intended.
The bathroom door opens.
Kamden drops back onto the couch beside me, glancing over. “You good, Amelia? Your face is flushed.”
“Fine,” I say quickly. “It’s the beer.”
I steal a glance at Wilder.
He’s grinning around his bottle, eyes dark, satisfied.
I stand, stretching just a little, trying to shake off the tight coil of nerves and heat that’s been sitting low in my stomach all night.
“I’m going to head home,” I say. “It’s been a long week, and I’m exhausted.”
Kamden immediately gets to his feet and pulls me into a hug. It’s familiar. Safe. Comforting in a way nothing else ever really is. My brother has always been my rock. The constant when everything else felt shaky.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he says. “Let’s set up dinner with Mom and Dad.”
I nod against his shoulder. “Sure. Sounds good.”
When I pull back and reach for my purse, I try to slip past Wilder without looking at him.
He steps directly into my path.
“I had fun tonight,” he says easily. “Getting to know you better. We should all go out sometime.”
My heart drops into my stomach.
What the hell is he doing?
“Hell yeah, great idea,” Kamden agrees instantly, grinning.
I look between them. Kamden’s genuine excitement, Wilder’s teasing, knowing expression. And something sharp twists inside my chest.
“Yeah,” I say tightly. “Sure. Sometime.”
I grab my purse and head for the door before Wilder can make things worse. I don’t look back.
The drive home is a blur of red lights and racing thoughts.
I don’t know why I’m so annoyed but I am. Furious, actually. Because this doesn’t feel like a joke to me. It doesn’t feel light or easy or fun.
I have everything on the line.
My career.
The trust of my brother.
My damn heart.
And it feels like Wilder is treating this like a game.
