Page 140 of Wild Love
“Because neither of us especially wanted to be on the same team.”
I see the wisdom in what he’s saying.
“I like Mia as a person. She’s a great mom. A good human. But, man, oh man, the way I would do anything but spend time with her. That’s actually why I started bowling. Just grasping for a reason to get outta the house.”
“Shit. That really is desperate.”
He chuckles. “Get fucked, Junior. Bowling is the best.”
We fall into a companionable silence, the tires humming along the road, and I get lost thinking about the people I want on my team. The ones who love me enough to tell it like it is. The ones who know me as more than just my name or my connections.
People like that are hard to come by.
A person you want to spend your free time with. A person you never tire of. A person who can be brutally honest with you because they want the best for you—not because they’re trying to wound you, but because they feel safe enough to lay it all out.
That takes a special kind of trust, one that—the more I think about it—Rosie and I have always had. Where we can call each other on our shit, but never with any malice.
It hits me that no one haseverunderstood me the way Rosie does. It hits me that our trust is more than just surface level. It’s forged in friendship. Bound in respect. Sprinkled with animosity, which I’m starting to think is really just longing for more. It always has been. Except now, it’s our special brand of foreplay.
Nausea hits me as I think back on all the moments she’s been vulnerable around me. The little moments in our friendship she’s entrusted to me—the ones I’ve never told a soul about. Her diary. That key. That she calledmeto come get her that night.
I feel sick that I told West a secret that never belonged to me.
“So, she figured it all out?” West finally asks.
“I told her, but yeah. She’s smart—she definitely figured it out.”
“Are you… are you guys alright?”
I sigh heavily. “I believe I have royally pissed her off.”
West doesn’t say anything.
“I shouldn’t have told you what happened. That was an overstep.”
He nods. “Probably. But she’ll forgive you.”
“I hope so.”
“She will.”
“I was trying to handle it for her, not to embarrass her or make any waves.”
West snorts and slaps his knee. “Way to make no waves, Ford. Expertly done, you awkward fuck.”
My head drops back again, and I stare at the ceiling ofthe town car, having no idea how to make this right. Rosie is angry, and she has every right to be.
And Cora will be too when she finds out. I’ll be a mass polluter and a juvenile, lying dumbass for risking what I have with Rosie.
That sounds like something she would accuse me of.
So I make a few calls on the way home.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
ROSIE
I feltimmense relief when my brother texted me to confirm he was free and not charged with anything. And then I got another one.
