“Well,” Wilder says with a shit-eating grin, “let me educate you.” Then, he picks up a box. “I suggest the ultra-thin, non-latex condoms,” he continues this tireless charade. I roll my eyes. “Never know when a conquest might have a latex allergy. And, as Fanny Allred has taught us all, you always—and I mean,alwayswrap it up.”
Cash narrows his blue eyes. “Do you wrap it up?”
Wilder points to himself. “Me?”
“Yes, you, Wild.”
“This isn’t about me,” Wilder coolly replies. “This is about you.” There’s a beat before he adds, “And Britta?”
“I just want to be prepared,” Cash returns. “Just in case.”
Wilder smirks. “Then, I recommend the variety pack. Ultra-thin, ribbed for her pleasure, and extra heat.
I scrunch my nose. “What’s the extra heat part?”
“How am I supposed to know?” Cash answers.
“I wasn’t asking you,” I tell him. “I was asking Wilder.”
“Oh, Blondie,” Wilder chuckles low, “you couldn’t handle extra heat.”
I place my hands on my hips. “Try me.”
He shrugs. “Truce is over.”
“Convenient,”I say as something tingly and warm drips down my spine.
“We could—” Wilder begins but is interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind him.
He steps aside and there stands one of the three women who was crushing on Cash in the bathroom.
“I never do this,” she says, making eye contact with all three of us. “But I’m on a road trip with my best friends and I thought, why not?”
“Why not what?” Cash groans. He’s still holding a box of condoms. And so is Wilder.
Awkward.
She gives Cash a big smile, then turns to Wilder.
“When we made eye contact earlier—”
“As you were going into the bathroom?” Wilder asks, eyebrow raised.
“You remembered?” The woman sighs, splaying a hand on her chest. “So, you felt it, too?”
Oh gawd. She wasn’t talking about Cash. She was talking about Wilder!
“The urge to pee?” Wilder guesses.
“No, silly,” she coos, swatting at his arm. “The electric surge we experienced the second our eyes met.”
Wilder stares at her, bewildered. “I’m lost.”
“Then let me be the reason you’re found,” she says, voice low and sultry.
Lame.
“I think we got our wires crossed,” Wilder tells her as he shifts uncomfortably, the box of condoms in his hand a hilarious prop in this unfortunate turn of events.
