“No,” he says softly. “Before my mother died, it was actually quite happy. Idyllic, even. My dad used to smile back then.” There’s a clicking noise as he swallows. “I think things would’ve been different if she’d lived.”
I hear the words he doesn’t say—I think I would’ve been different.
“I wish I could’ve met her,” I say impulsively. “I bet she was pretty special.”
A rare smile lifts his lips. “She was. She would’ve liked you.”
That has me laughing. “She’d probably ban me from her house, given all the mess I make.”
He shakes his head, his laughter mingling with mine. “No, she would’ve joined in. Mom loved pranks. She loved us.” Wylder blinksup at the stars. I don’t think I’m imagining the silver lining his eyes. “She loved me.”
My heart aches at that. They say it’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all, and I truly believed that when I was growing up.
But now? Looking at the grief on Wylder’s face? I have to wonder if I’m the lucky one after all.
We lapse into silence once more as we walk. The first time Wylder’s hand brushes against where my hand is fisted under the jacket, I think it’s accidental. The second time, I frown with suspicion.
With the third, I slip my hand free and entwine it with his.
His shoulders ease instantly. He doesn’t look at me, but the small tilt of his lips has my heart beating faster.
“I wonder what I would be like if I’d grown up with my parents,” I confess. He’s just given me so much of himself that I want to offer something in return. “I’m so needy now. I crave attention because I didn’t get any growing up. I’m intelligent, but I’m not educated. I have no idea what to do with my life. I’m not sure if I’ll ever know. I wish I did, though. I wish I were different. Maybe people wouldn’t leave if I weren’t like this.”
“I like you like this.” Wylder frowns. “That’s not why people have left you.”
“Because so many have stuck around.” I roll my eyes. “And as for you not wanting me to change? Please. Just a few weeks ago, you told me I’m making your life a misery, remember?”
“That was a few weeks ago,” he says, his tone clipped. “Things are different now.”
I stare at him like he’s grown another head. “Don’t lie. I still drive you crazy.”
“I’m not lying. You do drive me crazy.”
“So what are you saying?”
A muscle jumps in his jaw. “I’m saying that maybe I like you driving me crazy.”
I don’t let hope spark. Not even an ember. It’ll set me aflame andconsume me if I do. “I’ll remind you of this next time I do something that makes you curse.”
“I’m sure you will.”
We come to a stop outside a funky retro diner. Wylder lifts his free hand toward the door. “Ready now?”
I nod, but the truth is, I’m not ready. At all. I’ve inadvertently put us on a road that’ll end with me getting my heart broken.
And I’ve got no idea how to stop it.
I’m in fucking trouble.
13
WYLDER
Neo doesn’t appear in my bed that night.
In fact, I don’t see him at all once we arrive back home. Dinner was…different, and not because of the venue. It was seventies-themed, with chrome-edged counters and bold colors, neon signs flickering on the walls. They even had servers on roller skates bringing our food to us.
Seemed like a hazard, but no more than Neo staring at me intently as I sat across from him.
