Chapter 6: Forever Wild: Chapter 5

The sun is shining bright and high in the sky, and my smile widens as I turn my face up toward it. We don’t get a lot of hot weather in Minnesota, but there’s just something about lying by the pool, occasionally dipping my toes in the water or taking a swim, that makes summertime feel right.

For all Jack’s complaining and acting like he was annoyed that I’m here, he turned on the outdoor speakers for me and pop music plays just loud enough that it feels like the soundtrack to this perfect day.

All the outdoor furniture is covered in a fine layer of dust, indicating he hasn’t been out here in a while. The pool is clean, though. I guess he didn’t run off the pool boy like all the rest of his staff.

My mom calls as I’m contemplating either turning over in my lounge chair or slathering on another layer of sunscreen. I love the sun, but I do not want to look like I do.

I hesitate before answering it, but guilt wins out.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hello! Hello!” She sounds chipper and happy. I never know what mood I’m going to get her in, but I sigh in relief that today is a good mood day. “What are you up to? I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“Sorry, I’ve been busy. I’m taking care of Tyler’s place while he’s gone, and some of the other Wildcat players.” Was there time to call her? Yes, of course. Was I afraid she’d somehow unintentionally make me feel like shit? Also, yes. It’s a gift, really. She can say the most hurtful things in the most innocuous way.

“It’s okay. I remember what it was like to be your age,” she says with a fondness that makes me want to cling to this summer even harder. “When do you leave for your internship?”

“I start on August first.” I stare out at the clear water as my stomach flutters with nerves.

“You don’t sound very excited,” she comments. I hate that she can still pick up on things. That feels like a gift that should be reserved for more present parents. But she seems to know me, even if she’s not always been the most attentive mom.

“No, I am,” I insist, pushing out the uneasiness I feel every time I think about the job. “It’s a really great opportunity.”

“But?”

Sighing quietly, I wonder if I should just keep it to myself. I don’t want her to hold it over my head later if I fail. “You weren’t excited enough. You can’t accomplish anything with that attitude. You didn’t give it your all.” Or whatever other words of wisdom she’ll find to make me feel worse. I think she generally means well, but she has adopted some toxic positivity over the past year that can really pile on an already shitty situation.

“I don’t know,” I say finally. “I was thinking I could stay in school.

Maybe get a master’s degree or something.”

Silence hangs on the line. Holding the phone between my shoulder and ear, I free my hands to pick at my chipped, blue nail polish.

“A master’s degree?” She repeats it back after an uncomfortable amount of time has passed. Her tone would suggest I told her I was going to sail around the world in a rowboat. “Honey, you barely managed to finish high school.”

She lets out a small laugh that makes my entire body flush with shame. A shame rooted in truth. It’s no secret that I barely eked by in high school, but having it thrown in my face still feels awful.

“That was different. I enjoyed college and my grades were good.” Better than good. I managed to get straight As the last two years. If it weren’t for an asshole psychology professor who loved to design tests to trick his students, I would have escaped without anything lower than a B. That C will haunt me until the day I die.

“You were an art major.” The underlying blow of her comment that indicates how little brains she thinks it takes to get an art degree and of my intellect, goes unsaid.

“It was just something I was thinking,” I say dismissively. I knew better than to bring it up. It’s been on my mind a lot and all my friends are busy. Grace took a job and started work right after graduation, so did most of my other college friends. Bridget and everyone else I know are taking the off-season to vacation and spend time with family. Tyler and Piper would always drop everything for me, but they’re so excited about it that I can almost see the hurt it would cause them if I mentioned being uncertain. They have done so much for me and I don’t want them to think I’m ungrateful.

“It’s normal to be nervous about taking the next step. This internship will be great. You’ll see.”

“You’re right.” I close my eyes and picture myself designing spaces, picking out furniture and art, making houses feel like an extension of the people that live there. I can see it so clearly and it fills me with some of the sparks of anticipation that have been missing these past weeks since I found out I was selected for the internship.

“Of course, I am. You have such a great eye.” The praise mixed with the playful smugness of her voice makes everything she said earlier hurt a little less. “So, what else is new?”

We talk for a few more minutes before she claims she has to go so she can help dad find something to eat.

Immediately after, I call Bridget.

“Hellooo!” Her voice makes a real smile tug at both corners of my mouth.

“Hello to you.” I stand and stretch. Sitting for so long in that lounge chair has my butt numb. “How’s vacation?”

I walk barefoot around the pool. The ground is warm, and a breeze blows my hair lightly.

“Good. We just got back from a farmer’s market and we’re going to take a little picnic out on the boat.”

My nose scrunches up. I can picture it. Bridget’s curly blonde hair blowing in the wind and Ash nearly crashing the boat as he stares at her. The man is obsessed with her. “You two are adorable.”

“I can feel you making a face at me, but I am choosing to take the compliment.”

Light laughter escapes and, god, I miss her. I have no idea how I’ll survive living in another city all the time. She’s been gone for two days and I’m almost ready to pack up and invade their cozy couple vacation .

“You should. It sounds perfect.”

“How are things there?” she asks. “Are you at Tyler’s, lying by the pool?”

“Close.” I sit at the edge of the pool. The water is a little cool as I dip in my toes. Staring at my matching blue toenails, I kick my legs slowly. “I’m at Jack’s house.”

“You’re at Jack’s?!” Her voice pitches higher and from her tone I’d bet her eyes are bugging out of her head.

“Yes. Why do you sound so shocked? I’m checking in on him, just like you wanted.”

“Aside from the fact you two usually can’t be in the same room together without annoying the shit out of each other?”

“We’re not in the same room. I’m outside. He’s inside. I’m too far away to see him glaring at me, and he’s out of throwing distance. Safety first.”

Her rich laughter makes my smile grow. When it trails off, she asks, “How is he?”

An image of him flashes through my mind. His dark hair, too long and hanging in his eyes, the unruly beard, his strong body bruised and bandaged, and the haunted look in his eyes. He seems a little lost, which is honestly unnerving.

But if I tell Bridget that, she and Ash will be packing up and heading back here. And I know how much Jack doesn’t want that.

I understand not wanting people around to witness you at your most vulnerable. I think he’s being unnecessarily obstinate by not letting anyone in, but I still get it.

“Grumpier than normal, but he seems okay.” The lie slips out easily. Maybe I should tell someone. If the team returns weeks from now and finds out that I knew he was in bad shape and said nothing, they would be furious with me.

The thing is, it’s hard for me to imagine Jack not being okay. Even seeing him like this I know he’ll bounce back. He’s Jack Wyld. Formidable. Bigger than life. Invincible.

“Is he doing his physio?”

“I’m not sure,” I say. “He isn’t exactly chatty.”

Even on the best days, he’s always been quieter. Not shy or reserved, just careful. Every word out of his mouth feels purposeful. Sometimes that purpose is that he’s a jerk.

“But he was on the bike when I got here,” I add.

“Oh good. That must mean the doctor cleared him to start some light exercise.”

“What kind of stuff would he be doing for physical therapy?” I doubt scowling is part of the plan, but if it were, he’d be crushing it.

“Usually, it’s a lot of flexion and extension stretches to get full motion back. I’m sure his doctors are coming over to work with him.”

I am not so sure based on the way he ran off his nurse yesterday. Then again, I know Jack will want to be back in top form as soon as possible.

Ash’s muffled voice pauses our conversation and then Bridget says, “I gotta go.”

“Okay.” A stab of melancholy slices through me. I’m so happy that she’s happy, but selfishly I wish I could talk to her for another hour. “Text me later and tell Ash to keep his eyes on the water.”

She laughs at my odd request. “Will do. Bye, babe.”

“Bye.” I hang up, then hold my phone in my hands and tip my head up toward the sky. Sometime while I was on the phone, dark clouds rolled in, and the breeze is cool.

So much for my perfect pool day .

By the time I gather up my stuff and head inside, light rain has begun to fall. The cool air from the air conditioning makes goosebumps rise on my skin. The TV is going in the living room, but from this spot I can’t see if Jack is in there or not.

I pull on my shorts and shirt and slide my feet into my flip flops.

“I’m gonna go,” I yell, then wait for his reply.

Nothing.

With my bag over one shoulder, I walk through the house to the living room. Jack is in the same spot on the massive couch where he sat yesterday. His left leg is propped up and the container of cookies sits next to his foot.

“It’s starting to rain, so I’m heading out,” I say as I get closer, then realize his eyes are closed.

Asleep? Dead? I chuckle a little to myself. Of course he isn’t dead.

Except, oh my god, what if something happened? Maybe he took too much pain medicine or choked on one of the cookies. I creep forward. He’s so still I can’t tell.

I shimmy between the couch and the ottoman on his right side, careful not to accidentally bump his left leg, then lean in.

I search for signs of life, but my gaze gets stuck on his mouth. If you can look past the beard, and it’s hard, he has a great mouth. Full lips set against a square jaw.

His scent wraps around me. It’s faint, a hint of citrus mixed with something else. I want to move even closer and keep trying to place it, but then I hear it. His quiet breath comes in a steady rhythm.

“What are you doing?” His voice is thick from sleep.

I squeak and jump back. My calves hit the ottoman, and I fall back. Somehow, he catches me with one hand, guiding me so I don’t land on his bad leg or the cookies .

He’s not dead. Good. Because I might be soon. I place a hand over my racing heart.

“I was making sure you were breathing.” I glance over at his foot. “I didn’t jostle your leg too much, did I?”

He shakes his head. His fingers are still on the curve of my waist and the warmth of his touch is welcome against my cool skin. Heat pools in my stomach. There’s something very sensual about a man placing his hand at your waist. His big, rough hand against soft skin. To no one’s surprise, Jack’s caress has that perfect touch of tender protectiveness.

A crack of thunder makes me jolt again, this time out of his hold. I ignore the way my skin tingles. I need to get a freaking grip or maybe partake in an orgasm or two.

I make a mental note to swipe right on someone later tonight and get to my feet. “Thanks for letting me use the pool today.”

“Thanks for lunch.”

“Same time tomorrow?” I ask in a joking tone, then smile. “You do have the best pool in the neighborhood.”

He really, really does. It’s a travesty that it’s going to go unused all summer. Or maybe not. Maybe Jack and his new beard are going to enjoy it once he gets the cast off his arm. All alone. Just like he wants.

“Goodbye, Ev.”

“So that’s a maybe?” I head toward the front door.

He doesn’t respond.