Chapter Sixteen
The Spray Paint
Ingrid
Wilder pulls into a parking spot in front of a rundown gas station outside Amarillo. I stretch in the back as he and Cash unbuckle and slide out of their seats.
But I stay perfectly still, trying to recall if I really heard what I think I did.
You have to tell her, Wild. Don’t keep something this big from her.
My stomach tightens.
I know Wilder is hiding something and by the way Cash said it, it can’t be good.
I just can’t possibly imagine what it could be. Maybe something with his mom. Or his Grandpa.
He would tell me if it was serious… right?
Someone’s knuckles rap against the glass window, interrupting my mini spiral.
Wilder’s standing there, his sunglasses hiding his eyes.
I open the car door.
“Yeah?”
“You said you had to pee,” he reminds me.
Swallowing hard, I nod my head. “Yeah. I hadn’t forgotten.”
Wilder laughs. “Are you okay? You’ve been weird all day.”
“Fine,” I lie as I awkwardly slip out of the car.
My foot gets caught on the door frame and I nearly plummet to the hot asphalt below, but Wilder’s hand reaches out and steadies me.
“Blondie.” Wilder chuckles roughly. “What’s going on?”
I swallow hard as I right myself.
Lie, Ingrid. Lie!
“Still recovering from last night,” I say, plastering a smile to my face.
But Wilder misses nothing. He sees right through me.
Instead of pushing, he tugs me into his arms, and I lay my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.
As I lean into him—and breathe him in—all the worries start melting away.
I feel better this close to him, but I know the moment he lets go, the cold will creep in again.
He kisses the top of my head and I close my eyes, holding on as tight as I can.
“I’m right here, Ingrid,” he says softly.
“I know,” I whisper, pulling back to gaze up at him.
