Page 52 of Walk on the Wilde Side
"What a day … and night, eh? Leave it to my very down-to-earth, sensible sister to get herself kidnapped by pirates."
I laugh and almost spit out my next sip of coffee. "Pirates gives the impression that some swashbuckling, handsome, bad boy types kidnapped me, but they were far from swashbuckling or handsome. Just a crew of misfits who were looking to make a quick buck from the man who I once considered my boyfriend. Chalk up another tally mark in my list of terrible dating choices."
Kinsley shrinks her face up. "Really thought Dane was a good catch. That turned out to be disastrously untrue. What a fucking loser."
"Yep, I think he's my learning moment. I'm not going to find the one, and I'm all right with that."
"Bullshit." Kinsley drowns her stack with syrup. "You're not going to find 'the one' because he's been in your life this whole time." She says it casually as if it's a well-known fact. Considering I know exactly who she's talking about maybe it's exactly that—a well-known fact.
"Zander and I are friends," I say. "And I can't believe I actually have to say that to you."
"Right. Friends who give off so much sexual tension when they're standing in the same room that those of us around you have to go home and take cold showers afterward."
"You're so full of shit. There's no tension."
"Right. Oh, by the way, speaking of tension boy, he texted while you were sleeping. You left your phone on the coffee table, so I saw the text. But I didn't open it," she adds quickly in her defense.
I hop up and walk to the phone. Kinsley is giggling behind me. "There's no tension," she says in an impressive imitation of yours truly.
I pick up the phone and open the text.
I was being an asshole but then what else is new. How are you feeling?
I'm good and it's alright. It was kind of a big afternoon. How are you feeling?
It takes a minute for him to write back, and I think, for a moment, that he's not going to respond.
I've felt better. Nev, I need to see you.
I stare at the text. It's only a digital script on a phone, but I can feel the emotion behind it. Zander doesn't show his feelings easily, but I knew there was more to last night than him being embarrassed or mad that I carried him out of the water.
Kinsley is already up and cleaning the kitchen. She has a friend coming over to watch movies. I write back.
I'll come to your place. An hour?
That works.
It's the end of our texting session, simple and to the point, but my intuition and the way my heart is racing tells me there is nothing simple about it.
I tell Kinsley I'm going to the shop to finish up some paperwork. She insists I should stay home and rest and recover from the shock, but I feel perfectly fine. I'm home and safe, and there's no need to dwell on what might have been. That's something Nana always taught me.
As frightening as the last twenty-four hours were, I wasn't nearly as nervous as I am now as I pull up to the ranch. My fingers tremble as I replay the text "Nev, I need to see you" in my head. I park and walk toward the barn area. The horses are snuffling around in piles of hay in their turnouts.
I walk across to the old cabin, Zander's home since high school. He and Jameson grew up in the cabin while Finn built the main house. I always thought the older cabin was more charming and inviting than Finn's big, sprawling ranch house.
The door opens, and Zander walks out onto the front porch. He's wearing a black sweater, faded jeans and his feet are bare. As always, he's breathtaking. He's truly the one person who can knock me off balance just by standing there.
We don't say anything to each other as I climb the front steps. I reach him and still no words, just that stupefied, magnetic gaze-locking trick we're so darn good at.
"Are you going to invite me in?" I ask to break the tension. Damn, my little sister is always right. It's tension. There's no other way to describe it. It's not a stupefied gaze at all. It's two people looking right into each other's minds, bodies and souls.
Zander holds open the door and nods for me to go in. He still hasn't said a word. I walk inside. It's been a while since I've been inside his man's world, and usually, when I'm inside, there's a whole party of people there too. His furniture, overstuffed leather couches and chairs, look even shabbier than the last time. It's obvious he's tidied up. It even looks as if he's swept the pine plank floor.
I stop halfway through the room and turn around. "I think—" He starts at the same time with the words "we need" and both phrases get sort of lost and tangled in each other so we laugh.
"Nevvie," he says in that way that always makes my knees weak. "Like I said in my text—I'm sorry I was an asshole yesterday. I was so fucking scared when I realized you were out on that boat." He rakes his fingers through his long hair as he glances around the room before turning back to me. "I was ready to tear them to fucking shreds, and when I saw your face—fuck, I shouldn't have left them standing, any of them."
"You did pretty damn well considering you were outnumbered. If that beast Gargon hadn't come down the steps?—"
