Page 140 of Wild Rose
“It’s a question, Rose,” he snaps.
“No, not usually.”
He nods as he pushes them back. Then disappears into the bedroom.
I hurry to the counter and tuck them back into the envelope and into the trash can.
It’s too late. I know it is. But still, I want them destroyed.
“Wilder,” I try again when he storms out with his shirt on, boots striking hard as he marches to the door. “Wait. Please.” I hurry after him.
Without warning, he spins to face me and I nearly crash into him.
He growls to himself and waits, jaw clenched, eyes dark.
It takes me a moment to catch up with my mixed emotions and everything spinning around me. But he’s giving me the chance to explain and I’m taking it.
“Patrick—he’s a photographer. I met him at a gallery. I looked at his work and didn’t see it as .?.?. provocative. I saw it as expression and beauty, and when he said I’d be perfect, I .?.?.” I swallow, my voice suddenly getting smaller. “I was captivated by it in the moment.”
His eyes soften but it’s fleeting.
“I didn’t see it as him coming on to me. He’s a professional. He barely even looked at me between shots. I was exactly whatyou said, asubject.” I’m grasping at anything at this point.
“Forget the damn photos, Rose.” He takes a deliberate step toward me. “You got all nervous and lied and I want to know why.”
It should be a simple answer and maybe if I had more time, I could dig deep and ask myself why I felt the need to lie about this when I was so open about everything else.
Was I ashamed?
Did I think he wouldn’t understand?
I’m so scared that he’s giving up on me here, I can’t even think straight.
I shrug because I’ve got nothing else. “I don’t know why.”
He nods, eyes fixed on the floor. “You know that’s exactly what Bonnie said when I asked her the same thing.”
My eyes flash wide and I’m left breathless.
Wilder runs a hand down his face. “I’m going to call Ginger. Ask her to make some room for you at the main office this week.”
I shake my head. “What? Why?”
“I’ve got a lot going on, and I need to focus. We’ll catch up later this week.”
A weight settles in my chest. I’m barely processing as he reaches the door.
How did this happen?
“Wait.” My tone is pleading, and he turns. “I know you’re upset right now. But can we please talk tomorrow?”
He looks out the window, to where my brother just left. “How long before you wake up and realize this was a mistake too?” He gestures between us. “Just a misstep. Something that seemed like a good idea at the time .?.?.”
“Wilder—” I move toward him. “Stop.”
I freeze in my tracks, eyes burning.
He rubs his chin roughly like he’s fighting to say what’s on his mind. “Fuck.” Then, like he can’t help himself, he reaches for me,pulling me the rest of the way until I’m flat against his chest. “I’m sorry. I never want to hurt you, I just .?.?. need a day.”
