Page 43 of Wicked Scandal

“Something's going on with who?” Rome asks, stupefied by the conversation he just walked in on.

“Later,” I tell them both before walking out of the kitchen. Before they can say anything else, I head up the stairs.

Once I’m in my bathroom, I take a quick shower before throwing on a pair of gym shorts and a Misfits football tee shirt.

With my hair still glistening from the dampness, I head to the Cat’s guesthouse. I am careful to pull into the driveway at eight o’clock on the dot. With the car in park, but still running, I send Cat a message on SnapTok.

WildMisfit: I’m here.

She responds right away.

CatEyes: Me, too. You can come in.

With a smile on my face, I kill the engine and get out. I’m halfway to the miniature house when the front door comes open.

Cat steps out, nearly taking my breath away. She’s wearing a pair of black shorts that show off her long and impressively toned legs, a white tee shirt that hugs her curves, and her long hair piled in a bun on the top of her head.

Her bottom lip is tucked between her teeth as she gestures for me to hurry up. Her eyes dance around the yard, clearly fearful that someone might see me. I just hope that no one suspects anything or realizes it’s my car.

I guess it’s more of us being seen together that makes her nervous. Then again, if her husband is as possessive as I think he is, he could have people watching this place. I glance behind me to check just once, but everything seems quiet.

Stepping to the side, Cat gestures for me to come in then closes the door behind me.

“It’s good to see you,” I tell her. “You look beautiful.”

Her nose scrunches as she looks down her body. “I do?”

“You always do.” I brush my fingers over her cheek, loving the way she sighs into my touch.

“Thank you. You, umm…look nice too.”

I laugh and she does too. “No, I don’t. But thanks anyways.”

“Look, Wilder,” she begins, her voice growing serious as she walks into the small living room. “I told you to come here because I need to tell you this has to be the last time. We can’t keep doing this. The more I think about it, the more certain I am that we can’t talk like we have been. I know it’s my own fault. I started messaging you on that app and it was a mistake.”

“Hey.” I close the space between us, so sick of this damn conversation. “Don’t talk like that. It wasn’t a mistake. Those conversations meant a lot to me.”

She draws in a deep breath before saying, “They meant a lot to me, too. You have no idea how much.” I can hear the tremble in her voice and see as her eyes grow heavy with unshed tears. It makes me want to wrap her in my arms.

But something tells me she won’t let me this time. So, I approach her carefully, keeping some space between us, but not much.

“So why throw it all away?’” My voice is gentle, careful. I have no idea what happens when she speaks her mind to her so-called husband, but the way she’s already flinching has me moving with caution.

Taking a couple steps back, she sits down on the couch and drops her face in her hands. “You were never supposed to find out it was me. Talking to you was my escape from the life of Catherine Jenkins.”

I sit down beside her and on instinct my hand goes to her back, trying to sooth her. “I happen to like Catherine Jenkins. A lot, I might add.”

“Well, I don’t,” she confesses. “In fact, I don’t like her at all. She doesn’t have a backbone. She never makes decisions for herself—” I cut her off with a finger to her lips and she side-eyes me.

“Then make one,” I say, practically begging her with my tone. I drop my hand only for her to reach for it, then she stops herself. It’s infuriating to watch this battle in her mind of right and wrong, of what she wants and what she is willing to settle for. So, I try again. “Please. Make this choice for yourself. You said you like me, so stop pushing me away.”

Sad eyes land on mine and she gently shakes her head as my heart starts to break in my chest. “I don’t want to hurt you, Wilder. One way or another, we’re both going to get hurt in the end.”

CHAPTER 12

CATHERINE

“Who’s going to hurt us?” Wilder questions. I have a feeling he already knows something he wants to hear me admit.

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