Page 17 of Guarded Love

"Did someone say my name, or are the nacho gods finally answering my prayers?" Wilder asks, his eyes zeroing in on the plate I'm still working my way through.

"Both," Knox says, gesturing with a chip. "And you're late. Blaise almost ate them all."

"A likely story," Wilder replies, already moving toward the counter. He grabs a spare plate and continues. "Dalton here has the self-control of a monk. Me, on the other hand..." He piles his plate high, cheese and jalapeños tumbling over the sides.

"We know," Selene says, smiling. "You have no self-control when it comes to food."

"Or anything else, really," I add, taking another bite.

Wilder pauses mid-scoop. "I'll have you know I exhibited immense self-control tonight. I didn’t stay out too late and showered before deciding to grace you all with my presence." He shoves a loaded chip into his mouth. "Mmmph. Worth it."

"What profound sacrifice," Knox deadpans.

"Truly," Wilder agrees, his mouth full. He swallows. "Speaking of sacrifices, you guys missed a hell of a party earlier. Some frat house off campus. They had, like, a bouncy castle. Indoors."

My hand stills on its way to my mouth and I stare at him. Thankfully Selene fills in the blank because my brain died.

"A bouncy castle and alcohol?" Selene raises an eyebrow. "Sounds…sticky."

"And potentially a lawsuit," Knox adds. “Coach would have your ass if you got injured.”

"Whatever, doesn’t matter," Wilder says just before he sticks another nacho in his mouth. “Point is, it was epic. You all should've come.”

"We prefer our parties without a side of potential ER visits," Knox says, snagging a chip from Wilder's overflowing plate and Wilder sends a glare his way.

Selene shakes her head. "A bouncy castle, Wilder? Really?"

"Hey, don't knock it 'til you've tried it after three beers," Wilder defends, mouth full. "It's…an experience." He winks, grabbing another handful of chips. "Almost as good as these nachos. Almost."

"An experience I'm happy to live vicariously through your questionable life choices, thanks," Knox replies.

Selene pats Knox's arm. "Be nice. At least he came back in one piece."

“And we wouldn’t have these stories where he continues to live up to his name,” I chime in.

Wilder grins, a smear of guacamole at the corner of his mouth. "Exactly. Someone's gotta be the chaos coordinator. It's a vital role." He shovels another chip into his mouth. "Besides, who wants boring stories? 'And then we all sat quietly and did our homework.' Riveting."

I manage a small smile. Wilder's energy is a force of nature, one I've learned to observe from a safe distance. It’s exhausting to even think about living at his frequency, but in small doses, it’s…tolerable. Amusing if you will.

"Some of us appreciate boring," I say, more to myself than anyone else, but Knox catches it.

"Yeah, Blaise here is aiming for a Nobel Prize in Predictability," Knox says. "His idea of a wild night is reorganizing his bookshelf by publication date instead of author."

"Chronological by series is superior for continuity," I state. It’s true. There’s a logic to it that alphabetical order just can’t replicate.

Selene chuckles. "See, Knox? He has his reasons. Don't knock the system."

“Thanks, Selene. I knew I could count on you to be the voice of reason when it comes to these dumb asses. And with that, I should probably head back upstairs and actually start on the paper,” I say as I walk over to the sink to wash my dish.

"Don't let us stop you," Wilder says, mouth still half full. “I’m sure the paper is actually due in, like, two months knowing you, but you gotta do what you gotta do.”

"It's due in two weeks, actually," I correct, washing and rinsing my plate. "Which, according to my watch, is practically tomorrow."

"Dude, relax," Knox says, reaching for the last of the guacamole. "You'll bang it out. You always do."

"Easy for you to say, your brain doesn't short-circuit if the paper isn’t done at least a week early," I mutter, drying my hands. "I like to be prepared cause you never know what could happen. Something you might consider trying sometime." My comment is aimed at Wilder and he knows it.

"Hey, I'm prepared!" Wilder protests, crumbs flying. "I'm prepared for a good time, all the time. It's a different kind of preparedness, but equally valid."

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