Even Wilder

Violet

I didn't go home when I got back. I parked in Wilder's driveway and went right up the stairs to him. Mom said he was having a tough time. She said we could talk later.

I didn't knock on the door. I just went inside. The door was open. The house was quiet—too quiet. No television, no music. Nothing.

A box of which I assumed were his mom's ashes sat on the coffee table. I walked over and stared at them. Oh, the things I wanted to say to her for so many years. For all the things she put Wilder through. But it didn't matter now because she was gone, and she couldn't hurt him anymore.

I walked down the hall and peeked into Bing's room. He was passed out in his bed, laying over the covers instead of under them. I went in and took a blanket out of the closet and put it over him. He didn't flinch or even notice. He was in a deep sleep.

I went to Wilder's room. And just like I thought, he was asleep on the bed, facedown in his pillow. I crawled across the bed and laid down next to him. I didn't want to wake him up. But I wanted to be near him. I missed him.

He was going through a lot. I put my hand on his back. I just laid there, feeling him breathe, his body rising and falling with every breath. His warm skin soothed me. Wilder felt like home. My safe place.

I kissed the side of his face.

He rolled over, coming real close. We were nose to nose.

"Hi." His voice was gruff, laced with sleep and stress. He smoothed my hair and moved in, snagging my lips with his.

We silently worked ourselves out of our clothes in a hurry to connect. We both needed it. Wilder pulled me close, his body delicious and warm. He was ready for action.

I kissed him hard, pressing him into his pillows. I let him know how much I missed him. I could taste the beer on him. It seemed he was still using other means of coping besides calling me. I didn't blame him. His mother was in his living room, nothing but a pile of ash. I'd probably be mainlining street drugs if my mother were murdered. I couldn't be mad at him. We all had to cope.

He had me underneath him fast. His large frame looming, making me feel small and vulnerable. It was hot. And knowing he would never hurt me and only wanted to make me feel good, I welcomed all of him—every inch.

This was the third time we had sex, and we hadn't used any protection. I don't know what was going on in his mind. But what we were doing was stupid. I didn't want to be the stupid girl who ended up pregnant before she was ready. But another part of me didn't care. I was all in with Wilder. Ready to handle anything and everything willing to come our way.

Was he? I couldn't say for sure. But I knew if he had to be a father, he would, and he would do it beautifully.

I wanted every part of him. I didn't want anything putting a barrier between what we felt for one another. I would probably regret it one day, but right now, I was living in the moment.

That's the kind of person I was. I believed whatever was meant to be would be. And no birth control would stop it. No condom would prevent it from happening if it was supposed to happen.

He slid into me hard and fast, not stopping until I dug my nails into his backside. He fucked me until I had nothing left to give. Once I was satisfied, he took what he wanted, biting my neck, so he didn't wake Bing up. And his hips stopped moving.

He kissed me, still inside of me. He dipped his tongue past my lips, giving me a long hard kiss.

He pulled out and laid next to me out of breath. "I needed that." He took my hand, squeezing it. "How was the drive?"

I looked over at him. "Not bad. I played sudoku on my phone the whole way here."

"Thank you for coming. I know you had classes."

"It's not a problem. How's Bing?" I rested my hands against my stomach.

There was a tension in the air at the mention of Bing. I could feel it. The way he sat up in bed and pulled at his hair. Something was going on, and he didn't know how to explain it.

Something wasn't right. I sat up too. We both stared at each other. Wilder looked me straight in the eyes when he delivered the news. "Bing's dad wrote me a letter. He wants Bing to come live with him. He says he's got his shit together, and Bing belongs with him."

I shook my head, running a hand through my hair. "Bing doesn't even know him."

Wilder wasn't arguing that. He knew what kind of person Bing's father was in the past. The man never wanted anything to do with Bing. And now, after all of this, he was going to tear him away from the one family member he had. For what?

"I don't know what to do."

"He's not taking Bing."

Wilder's eyes got big. He covered my mouth. "He's across the hall. Be quiet."

"You're not telling him, are you?"

He shook his head. "He doesn't need to know about some drug addict who suddenly decided he wants to be his dad. He's got me. He's got you and your mom."

"What if he finds out?"

Wilder threw up his hands. "Stop. I'm not going to let anyone take Bing from me. It's not going to happen."

I kept the rest of my thoughts to myself, drawing my knees up and wrapping my arms around them. I didn't feel good about it. "Okay."

He kissed my forehead. "Let's get some sleep."

"I just got here."

He got under the covers. "Big day tomorrow."

"What?" I got under the covers with him and rested my head against his chest.

"Taking my mom to the lake. Bing wants to scatter her ashes there."

His heartbeat grew faster. I kissed his racing heart, and he held me tight.