We move with the line, but Wilder keeps his arms around me and I lean back into him.
“What did you expect?” I press.
He shakes his head, his chin grazing the back of my head. “I thought things would be...easier.”
“Do you remember when we went to prom senior year and Kerrigan Lewis puked all night?” I fondly smile.
“How could I forget?” he grumbles. “She missed the bush at one point and puked on my shoe. I had to pay a cleaning fee when I returned them.”
I’m starting to see a pattern here with Wilder. Kerrigan at Prom and Hendrix, the blond we golfed with last summer, puked on his shoes, too.
That’s not the point, though.
“You rented shoes for prom?” I twist to look up at him.
“I wasn't going to shell out a ton of money on shoes I'd only wear once.” He furrows his brow as he stares down at me.
“I didn't want you to dance with us.” It comes out hoarse and rough.
“I know,” Wilder admits.
“But it wasn't because of you,” I clarify. “It was because Cash was different with you. He treated you better than he treated me. When you were close by, all you did was remind me that he was capable of treating someone well, but that he refused to treat me that way.”
“Maybe he was secretly jealous of me,” Wilder jokes.
“Wilder.” I swallow hard.
“I'm sorry,” he apologizes. “I couldn't resist.”
“I'm nervous that if Cash wants to dance with us, you'll prefer him.”
“I'm not in love with him,” he says as he forces a smile. “I'm in love with you.”
“But what happens when you get tired of me?” I question.
Wilder's face scrunches with confusion. “Why would I get tired of you?”
“Cash did,” I argue.
“Cash also let me dance with you at prom,” he says, smacking his lips together. “If that had been me, I'd have made Cash find someone else to spend the night with.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“I'm saying,” Wilder coos as his lips find my ear. “There's no way in hell if you'd been my prom date that I would have let anyone else dance with you that night. Not even Cash.”
“Not even if Kerrigan Lewis had puked all over his shoes?”
“Nope,” he says, popping thep.“I'mnot going to get tired of you. I am tired of Cash, though. I live with him, sleep in the same room as him, and now we're stuck in a car together.”
“We could remedy that situation,” I challenge with a raised eyebrow.
Wilder sighs. “I've been thinking about that.”
“About?” I tilt my head to the side as he quickly presses his lips to mine.
“About living together.”
Oh. My. Gawd. Don't freak out, Ingrid.
