Page 32 of Hot Shot

I flinch from the sting. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Come on, let me get the engine belt and some tools, and we’ll get your truck fixed. Or I can take you home and go fix it for you. I’ll drop it off. You won’t even have to see me.”

“How are you going to get back toyourtruck from Mom’s?”

I shrug, already outside. “Walk.”

“Wilder, that’s a mile.”

“So? I run farther than that at least three times a week. I’ll cross it off my cardio for tomorrow. It’s no big deal.”

The sigh she sighs comes all the way from the sole of her shoes. “Why can’t you just be an asshole? This would be so much easier if you were an asshole.”

A chuckle puffs out of me as I enter the garage and make my way to the tool bench for my things. “You want me to be an asshole?”

“No. Kind of.”

I pause. Turn. Pin her with my gaze. “You have every right to be mad?—”

“I don’t need your permission.”

“No, you don’t. I’m just saying, I know I fucked up.”

She glares at me. “A lizard would know it fucked up, Wilder. Who else knows that we’re married?”

“No one.”

She blinks. “Your dad?”

I shake my head.

“Your sister? Remy?”

“Nobody knows, Cass.”

She softens, but just a hair. “Well, I guess they’re about to. Do we tell them we’ve been married for ten years or that we ran off?”

“May as well stick with the truth. Plus, it’s public record.”

“So I could have Googled it? Assuming I knew, I guess.” She shakes her head and doesn’t wait for me to answer. “We need a cover story—if the whole town knows we’re faking it and the Wilsons find out, they won’t let you have Cricket. So we need to figure out how we’re going to play this. I think we should tell the inner circle the truth though.”

“Better dig up your wedding ring. Therealone.”

“I don’t have the other one anymore,” she says simply. “I left it on his dresser.”

The knowledge both pleases me and breaks my heart.

She continues, “We could always tell people we’ve been seeing each other since after the wedding. Rekindled the old flame. Realized the paperwork hadn’t gone through and we were still married. And when you found out about Cricket, we decided to move in together so I could help with her. It’s mostly true, at least. I only look a little bit like a flighty mess.”

The way she says it, I can tell she’s ashamed and that her assumptions are probably true. I fucking hate it. But there’s no way to feel better except to make a joke.

“Hey, I dunno—I’m kind of a big deal around here.”

She laughs, rolling her eyes.

“Seriously. I’m a catch. They might even throw you a parade for locking me down.”

Cass moves on, but she’s still smiling. “I’ll move my stuff in Sunday and sleep here for the first time on Tuesday when Cricket gets here.”

Cricket. My daughter.

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