Page 4 of The Summer of Wild

"Ugh," I groan as Wilder begins the slow trek to his house three doors down. "I'm so tired of you being the third wheel!"

Wilder scoffs as he walks away. "You're the third wheel, Blondie. Not me."

Chapter 2

The Backpacking Trip

Dinner at 6?

That was the text message Cash sent me three hours ago. After responding, I frantically raided my closet, searching for the perfect outfit. One that will surely make Cash want to have sex tonight. Or at least have a hard time saying no when I invite him inside.

Now, I'm standing on the sidewalk, waiting outside my house as the warm breeze curls itself around my bare legs.

It's been months since Cash last took me on a date. I've tried not to bug him. I know he's nervous about going to Baltimore. His dad expects perfection, which means Cash isn't allowed to be mediocre. His father would never allow it.

I've chalked up his busyness to prepping for life at Johns Hopkins, but a part of me wonders if he's avoiding me.

I check my phone before peering up and down the street. When my eyes land on the one person most likely to ruin my mood—and day—my heart plummets to the concrete below.

No, Cash didn't.

"What's wrong, Blondie?" Wilder flashes his eyebrows at me. "You look disappointed to see me."

"Please, please tell me you're just passing by," I place a hand on my hip.

"Nope," he holds up his phone. "Cash told me to meet you guys here."

"Why?" I stomp a foot. "Why can't I do anything alone with my boyfriend?"

"Don't ask me," Wilder shrugs off. "Ask your boyfriend."

I tug on the pink miniskirt I'm wearing. The one I should have left hidden beneath my jeans in the back of my closet. I didn't realize this wasn't a date. It's just another share-my-boyfriend-with-his-best-friend rendezvous.

"Ah," Wilder grins. "You're trying to seduce Cash."

"What?" I wrap my arms around myself. "Why would you say that?"

Wilder points to my legs. "Miniskirt."

"It's June," I scrunch my face as my stomach twists in knots. If Wilder can see right through me, why can't Cash? "It's hot outside."

"And the cleavage?" he smirks as his hazel eyes rake over my exposed chest.

"Stop looking at my boobs!" I seethe.

"Relax, Blondie," Wilder rolls his eyes. "You're definitely not my type."

"Oh," I slap my knee with my hand, "that's right. You like girls with low self-esteem who can't help but sleep with emotionally stunted assholes afraid of commitment."

"Don't talk about your sister that way," he licks his lips.

My blood boils. "You're ridiculous."

"You're the one begging your boyfriend for attention."

"Am not."

"Are too."

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