“I’m going to jump in the shower real quick,” Cash announces as Wilder shoves his arms under a pillow and makes himself comfortable.
“Okay,” I say to him.
“Blondie,” Wilder calls to me.
I sit on the bed bedside him and run my fingers through his dark hair.
“You’re tired,” I say as we hear Cash close the bathroom door.
He gives me a sheepish smile. “Being alone with you was worth it.”
I rub his head, watching as his hazel eyes slowly start closing.
“It’s only a four-hour drive tomorrow,” I whisper. “We should sleep in.”
“Sounds good,” he mumbles.
Leaning over, I kiss his cheek. “I love you, Wilder.”
“I love you more, Ingrid.”
Then, sleep overtakes him and he snores softly.
I cross the room, careful to be quiet, and prop my duffel bag up on the chair. For a second, I glance back at Wilder asleep on the bed. He’s still wearing his clothes from earlier today and he never pulled back the sheets.
Something is bothering him. I know it. And if I was more like Isla, I’d grab Wilder’s phone and check his messages.
Everything inside me is telling me to do it.
I bite my lip and start searching through my bag for my pajamas.
I trust Wilder completely.
But I’m also curious.
What’s so important that he’d tell Cash and not me?
No, I can’t go through his phone.
That’s a complete invasion of privacy.
I’d be pissed if Wilder went through mine.
But I’m not hiding something and he is.
Taking a deep breath, I set my pajamas on top of my bag and head straight for the bedside table he put his phone on.
I pick it up, watching him closely.
He’s still snoring softly.
Licking my lips nervously, I type in his code. 1234. He said it’s the easiest set of numbers to remember.
Which sounds exactly like something Wilder would do.
Just as I’m about to click on his messages app, the bathroom door creaks open.
In a frantic rush, I nearly drop Wilder’s cell phone on his head before slamming it down on the bedside table with a little too much force.
