Wylder’s taken so off guard by my question that he stumbles over thin air. “What?”
“Your childhood,” I elaborate. “I always figured growing up with a family must be better than growing up without one, but with some of the stories I’ve heard about your father, I’m not sure that’s true.”
It’s not just the stories that imply that, but Wylder himself, and to a lesser extent, his brothers. Cade’s a loose cannon. Samson rarely smiles. Dalton cheats and tricks his way through life. Matthias spent years pining after his former best friend rather than just having a conversation. Harley won’t make a move on a man he’s clearly in love with.
All these men are deeply flawed. If I had any money, I’d bet it all on their childhood having made them that way. But none of them areas buttoned up as Wylder. None of them shoulder the responsibility the way he does.
I wonder why that is.
Wylder is quiet as he stares at the night sky. “No one’s ever asked about my childhood before.”
“No one? Not even your girlfriends?”
I try not to feel angry about those Wylder has been with in the past. Even if he were mine, I’d have no right to feel jealous or possessive. He can’t change what came before me.
Anyway, he’s not mine, so it shouldn’t even matter.
I wish that knowledge made a difference.
Wylder chuckles. It’s a low rumble in his chest that I feel all the way to my knees. “Certainly not. All they cared about was that I took them to the right events and looked good on their arm.”
My nose wrinkles. “Why bother with something so…superficial?”
He considers his answer before he speaks. “Because I’ve never needed anything more than superficial. I’ve never longed for someone the way Matthias longed for Wyatt. Never lost my mind like Cade did when he thought Ansel was gone for good. I haven’t flirted shamelessly like Harley, or even worried about someone as Dalton does for Jackson. I’m not sure I’m capable of it.”
I close my eyes briefly. With every word he just said, Wylder confirmed why this will never work. I need to be needed. Longed for. Flirted with. Worried about.
I need to be loved. I’ve never had it before, but it sounds so nice.
I won’t get it from Wylder though. The sooner I wrap my head around that, the better.
“As for passion—” He sounds the word out like it’s foreign. “—I’ve definitely never felt that.”
“Okay, now that one I know is a lie.”
He glances over at me. “How?”
I arch my brows. “Do I need to remind you how you fisted my hair while I was between your thighs? How you made me take it? Called me your good boy? You think that’s not passion?”
“That’s different.” There’s a blush on his high cheekbones. “It’s different.”
“How so?”
“Because it’s you,” he says simply. “That wasn’t passion. It was…punishment.”
His dagger might be sheathed, but he may as well have plunged it through my heart. I don’t let any of it show on my face, keeping my voice light and teasing. “Remind me to be naughty more often, then.”
I pull my hand out of his with a fake shiver, tucking it inside Wylder’s jacket. “Brr. It really is cold.”
Wylder flexes his fingers, frowning at where my hand disappeared. “Shall we head to the restaurant?”
I shake my head. I need a few more minutes to pull myself together. To remind myself that this isn’t a real date, that I can’t like Wylder, because he’ll never be mine. No one will. “Not yet.”
This time, I don’t try to fill the silence. Instead, I let the feelings overwhelm me. They drag me into their icy depths, attempting to smother any hope or joy that they find lingering.
Then, unexpectedly, Wylder throws me a lifeline. “My childhood wasn’t always awful.”
Everything pauses as I latch on to Wylder’s words and the offering of truth he’s making. “No?”
