“You could start small,” I suggest. “Just call her once. Text her back a few times a week. She’s not you, Wild. She doesn’t have your ability to land on your feet every time like a friggin’ cat.”
“Friggin’?” Wilder raises an eyebrow. “That was pretty close to fucking.”
“Character growth,” I say to him.
He chuckles. “Yeah. Okay.”
We both watch the late afternoon waves crash against the shoreline below.
“It’s hard,” I surprise myself by saying out loud.
“Which part?” Wilder asks.
“The watching you and Ingrid part.”
He sighs. “I know.”
“I hate to say this, but I get it.”
Wilder turns to face me. “Get what?”
“I get why she loves you,” I say. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. You always show up. You don’t care about what I’ve done or what my mom’s done. You’re always there for me. You deserve to have something good happen for you.Go to NYU. Take Ingrid with you. Take out the student loans. You’ve taken care of all of us. Take care of yourself for a change.”
He blows out a breath. “You have to stop talking to Ingrid. It’s ruining my financial plans.”
I slap him on the back. “Go have an adventure with the girl we love, man. You’d be a fool not to take it.”
He playfully punches my arm. “I fucking hate it when you’re right, Cash. Which is like… three times a year.”
We look at each other. Not as friends, but brothers.
Because that’s really what we’ve always been. Family.
“If you two are done getting all mushy,” Ingrid says as she walks up. “Can we walk to the pier?”
She won’t meet my eyes, and I don’t blame her.
But I wish she would.
“You ready?” Wilder asks her.
She smiles at him like he created all the stupid galaxies in the sky and made them all just for her.
It’s fucking gross.
There. I said it.
“I’m ready,” she whispers as he kisses her forehead.
And you know? Maybe I’m ready, too.
Ready to let go and find someone who looks at me like I’m everything that’s ever been or ever will be.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The Phone Call
Wilder
