Page 65 of Wild Card
Not as good as she and I would be.
Tripp and I part ways. He mopes back to his hotel room with Gwen on his mind while I opt to grind my teeth the entire drive back to my place—with Gwen on mine too.
I’m about to enter the house when I hear a clicking noise filtering around the side of the property. I’m immediately alert. My property isn’t in town, but it’s not quite rural like Ford’s or West’s. I have neighbors dotted along the lakeside.
It could be an animal, or it could be someone trying to steal my boat. So I alter my route and take the stepping-stone pathway around the side of the house that leads onto the back deck.
I find no thief. Only Gwen, sitting on the steps of the back deck, arm outstretched, clucking at a raccoon with a piece of bread in her hand.
Having her under my roof has been a mindfuck. But tonight, after enduring Tripp’s reflections on their relationship, is a special brand of torture.
I’ve spent weeks slowly convincing myself that it would be okay for me to pursue her. I was seconds away from taking that leap. I felt confident that it wouldn’t matter if I did.
And then, in one fell swoop, Tripp waltzed in and fucked it all up.
So now, while hiding in the shadows, I soak her in. She’s beautiful. More than that, the way she sees the world is beautiful. She’s good for me. Hell, she makes me laugh. Living in my head feels like a constant battle sometimes, but standing next to Gwen with my feet in the sand makes everything feel a little bit better.
Tonight, she’s peaceful, wrapped in a long, coarsely knit sweater, her platinum locks in a loose mess around her face. The twinkle of the midnight-blue water behind her makes her glow even brighter.
It makes me want…it makes mewant.
But I can’t. Frustration builds as I admire her. And jealousy too.
Hehad his chance, and he squandered it. Tripp doesn’t realize how fucking lucky he is that a girl like her gave him the time of day.
With that frustration bubbling inside of me, I lash out.
“The fuck are you doing?” I ask, startling them both and ruining the moment exactly like I secretly intended to. It will be easier this way. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.
The raccoon turns his beady eyes on me, then bolts into the darkness.
Gwen, however, does not share that instinct. Her gaze snaps to mine, incensed. “What the hell! I’ve been sitting here for thirty minutes, convincing him to come that close.”
I should apologize, but I say, “Raccoons are vermin. They carry diseases.”
She tilts her head at me.
“What? Are you going to tell me there is a raccoon chakra I don’t know about that you’re tapping into? They’re pests. If they start coming around because you feed them, they’ll?—”
“They’ll what? Lay siege to your castle and take over the entire property like small, furry Vikings?”
I tip my chin up. When she puts it like that, I sound ridiculous. “They can carry rabies.”
“That raccoon wasn’t rabid.”
I sigh. I can’t believe I’ve cornered myself into arguing about rabid raccoons just to get her attention. Apparently, any sort of attention will do where Gwen is concerned.
“Okay.” I hold my hands up in surrender. “You know what? It’s fine. Feed all the raccoons you want if it makes your energy flow or whatever, but if they come around and make a mess, you’ll clean it up.”
“Oh, cute. Mocking my beliefs and career. Very original. No one has ever made that joke before,” she volleys back before turning and tossing the piece of bread into the trees. “There you go, Larry! Let the carbohydrate energy flow through your raccoon chakras to achieve full enlightenment!”
Then she spins on me, eyes narrowed. “Thanks, Daddy Buzzkill. You just chased him off for no good reason.”
The way she spits the worddaddymakes me realize she’s just as irritated by Tripp’s unannounced arrival as I am.
I step out of the darkness and into the flood of light that illuminates the backyard. “No good reason?”
She pushes to stand, giving a defiant nod as she wipes her hands against her flowy cotton pants. “Yes. Just to be a dick, no doubt.”
