Page 51 of Wilder Heart

“Good is subjective, and I think you’re wonderful.” He pecked him one last time on the mouth. “Now, get some rest.Promise meyou’ll try to stay in bed for a while tomorrow and take it easy if you’re hurting.”

“I’ll do my best—although it’s really boring in here.”

“I’ll drop my e-reader by before I leave in the morning.”

Wilder’s eyes widened. “You’d do that?”

“Absolutely. Just don’t make fun of my books.” He had a little of everything on that e-reader. Fantasy, science fiction, romance. Surely Wilder could find something that interested him.

He smiled. “Never.”

“Good night, Wilder.”

Wilder’s eyes were already slipping closed. “Night, Cash.”

CHAPTER 18

WILDER

The next morning, Wilder rolled over and hissed. Pain throbbed through his body, and he flopped over onto his back, his breath hitching as every little movement sent a fresh stab coursing through him. The faint light of dawn was barely a glow through the gap between the curtains, and a light knock on the door revealed what had woken him.

“Fuck,” he grunted.

He was still naked, and frankly had no idea how he’d manage to dress himself if he remained as stiff and sore as he currently was. There was only one person he wanted to be on the other side of that door, and if it wasn’t him, he had no qualms about telling them to fuck off—even if it happened to be Lain, although he doubted his brother would be caught dead at his door.

“Who is it?” he called.

“Cash,” came the answer.

Wilder went lax. “Please tell me you have a key.”

There was a pause. “I do. Everything okay?”

“Just come in.”

The doorknob rattled, and a moment later Cash swept into the room, barely with the sense of mind to shut it behind him.

“What is it? What’s wrong? Why can’t you get up?”

“Just sore,” Wilder wheezed as he tried to push himself upright. “And still naked. Which I wouldn’t care about if Mary-Beth and Annalise didn’t live right over there.” He rasped out a laugh, and Cash gave him a relieved smile at the sound.

“I can help you dress. I came to drop off some stuff.” He raised a paper sack Wilder hadn’t noticed. “Food from the kitchen and my e-reader.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“You didn’t show for breakfast, and I figured you’d be hungry when you woke. Also, the sooner you eat, the sooner you can take another one of those lovely pills that kill your pain and knock you out.”

Cash carried the bag over to the mini fridge. Wilder stared up at the ceiling while Cash put the food in the fridge, deposited his e-reader on the bedside table, and fetched some clothes from the dresser.

“I’m an invalid,” Wilder muttered, starfished on the bed and unable to do anything about it. “I’m officially past my prime. You should take me out back and shoot me.”

“I would never,” Cash said matter-of-factly, then unceremoniously whipped the blankets off Wilder’s naked body.

“I beg your pardon,” Wilder said flatly. “A little warning would be nice.”

“I had that cock in my mouth last night. Don’t be modest now.”

“Modest? I meant because it’s cold in here.” Wilder laughed.

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