Page 73 of John Wilder Gets Schooled
“I am very interested in you,” I said. “Very.”
Wilder’s face did something complicated, and then he looked at his feet again.
“Hey,” I said, and he looked up. “I think that maybe we’ve hardly scratched the surface of how a bunch of people have treated you in this town. And I don’t need you to spill your guts like this is an episode ofMaury. I can wait until you’re ready to talk about it. But Iamin your corner, okay? Just like Danny andthe twins and Miller, except hopefully I’m the only one who gets to kiss you.”
“You are,” he said.
“Good.” I took his hands in mine and closed the space between us. Went up on my tiptoes to bump my forehead against his. The sudden smell of chrysanthemums told me we might have crushed the flower, but I didn’t care. “I’m the lucky one here, Johnny, okay? Because you’re amazing.”
“Okay,” he whispered.
I stepped back. “Come and see me tonight.”
“I will,” he said. “Soon as I can.”
I smiled at Wilder, waved goodbye to Gracie, and headed home. I busied myself doing all my usual tasks—checking I had everything I needed for school tomorrow, answering emails, getting distracted from answering emails by cookie recipes. The usual stuff. I sent Dallas a text telling him I had a boyfriend now. Then I sent the family group chat a text because no way could Dallas keep that under his hat for long. Then I put the group chat on mute because eight people messaging at once was alot,especially when they were all sending variations on “details!” and “about time.”
I heated up leftovers for dinner and ate at the kitchen counter, where I could glance out the window like the neighborhood busybody and watch the comings and goings next door. It was all comings. Cash got home first—I only knew it was him because of the dirt bike—and then Danny arrived. Chase got home later, when it was already dark. The lights from their house gave it a pleasant glow, and shadows passed the windows occasionally.
I went and showered and changed, and when I found myself in the kitchen again afterward, I had to go sit in the living room with a book to stop myself staring wistfully at Wilder’s house like a sad adoptable puppy on a pet shelter page. He’d get here when he got here—he was probably having a live-action version of my family group chat right now.
When the knock finally came, I leapt off the couch like I’d had a thousand volts put through me and hurried to open the door.
Wilder stood there wearing a dark V-neck tee that clung to his biceps, jeans, and his cowboy hat tilted down over his face. It was hot as fuck. He gave me a smile—a sexy, flirty thing that set my heart racing—and drawled, “Sooo, I was thinking we could try that blow job now.”
“I don’t know, cowboy,” I said and hummed. “I’m kinda busy.”
I gave him a moment to react—it was jaw-dropping astonishment—and then I burst out laughing and reeled him inside by the belt loops on his jeans.
CHAPTER 19
WILDER
There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to blow Avery, so my sudden hesitation when we reached his bedroom wasn’t down to that. It was just that my brain was still all over the place from the day I’d had, like I had too many thoughts bubbling away back there, too many feelings swirling around underneath my skin, to be able to settle enough to be present. Just him and me, and no new job, no public parking lot kiss, no roommates with a thousand questions, and no five-year-old kid who’d asked as I’d tucked her in, “Daddy, are you and Mr. Smith going to get married?”
I was still reeling a little from that one.
But Avery took one look at me, flung my cowboy hat across the room, and ran his fingers through my hair. “You all good, Johnny?”
I leaned into his embrace. “It’s been a day, huh?”
He hummed. “Sure has.” Then he put his hand on my cheek, tilted my head the way he wanted, and kissed me.
And just like that, we were the only two people in the universe.
“Want to talk about it?” he asked.
“Nope.” I kissed him this time, and his mouth opened under mine, electricity dancing across my skin and making me shiver asour tongues touched. The rising heat between us left no room for anything else, and that was exactly what I needed. And after that, it was easy.
Avery’s eyes widened as I went to my knees, hooking my fingers in the waistband of his pants. I held his gaze and raised my eyebrows, and he nodded. I fumbled a little with the button, not used to working a fly from this side of the equation, but got there in the end. Then I pulled his zipper down, the metal teeth rasping loudly in the sudden silence of his bedroom. He was already hard, and for some reason the sight of his erection pushing out of the space the opening fly made was hilarious. But that was probably because he was wearing underwear with rubber ducks on it.
“Uh, it was laundry day,” he mumbled.
“Liar.” I smirked up at him, then back down at the ducks, and then peeled the fabric down to reveal his dick. I ran a fingertip down the length and then, before I could second-guess myself, I licked the head. Avery made a choked sound and his hips jerked forward. At the same time, his fingers caught in my hair. I liked it.
I took the head of his dick in my mouth, taking a moment to get used to the taste—skin and salt and traces of soap burst against my tongue. Closing my eyes, I savored this moment—the sensation, the taste, the heat, the trust—and Avery’s fingertips beat a gentle tattoo against my scalp as though he was trying hard not to urge me to domore. I didn’t need the reminder. I wanted as much as I could give him. I pressed my tongue to the bottom of my mouth and leaned in to take more of him.
“Johnny!” He gasped, and his fingers tightened in my hair.
