Page 117 of Wild Side
I snort and open the door wider, inviting them in. “You guys know West. He’s like an excited border collie, herding us all together. I didn’t even know I was hosting this until today.”
My parents chatter away happily as more people arrive.
Bash comes first. Gwen comes second. And they are like the same sides of a magnet—they stay as far away from each other as possible. Each takes one of my parents and clearly works hard to engage so they can avoid each other. If I wasn’t so damn nosy, it might be funny. But all it does is make me want to ask what the fuck is the story between them.
Skylar, West, and his two kids, Ollie and Emmy, arrive, and West greets me with his usual enthusiastic “Tabby Cat!”
My lips twitch. He’s impossible not to like, and I love seeing him so happy with Skylar. I hug them both and gesture toward the living room where people are gathering.
“I’m so glad you planned this.” He pushes his shoulder against mine and grins playfully.
“Oh, is that what I did?Iplanned this? You are like the head of the town social committee or something.”
“West.” Skylar shoots him a look. “Whose idea was this?”
He shrugs. “What? Emmy always says that no just means try harder, and it seems to work for her. Plus, we’re talking about our boy. He’s bad at bowling, but it sounds like he might be good at this. It’s our job to cheer him on.”
My annoyance evaporates, and I’m struck by how much I love this for Rhys. I wish he could see it. “Don’t worry about it. It’s gonna be fun.”
The living room continues to fill, and Milo is thriving with all the attention and the thrill of having other kids around. Cleo makes herself at home on Skylar’s lap, and then more people join the mix. Ford, Rosie, and a chagrined-looking Cora stand at the door.
“Hi!” Rosie says brightly, holding up a bottle of wine. “I brought booze! I know it’s a Monday, but, as they say, it’s Friday somewhere.”
Ford rolls his eyes, but I don’t miss the way his lips twitch. “That’s not possible, Rosie. The saying is?—”
“Whatever. Come on, buzzkill. This will be like sports with a bit of drama. Almost literary in nature. You’ll love it.” She yanks him by the hand, winking at me as she passes, and I can’t help but laugh.
Ford would do anything for Rosie and—as I’ve learned with Skylar and the way he helped her through a career nightmare—for his friends. He might come off as prickly, but he’s a big softie underneath, and I get a kick out of watching my friend keep him on his toes.
I’m left staring at Cora, and we both say, “I’m sorry—” before stopping and laughing.
Her cheeks glow as she says, “Listen, I’m sorry for crushing on your husband. I’m over it now that I know he’s so old.”
I school my features so I don’t burst out laughing. Thirty-five isn’t old, but I don’t tell her that.
“I’m still a fan of him as a wrestler, though, okay? Like I can’t just pick a new fav. So I’m still gonna wear this shirt and shit.” She’s dressed in head-to-toe black with a pink scrunchie in her hair, but her shirt sports the Wild Side logo in lime green.
“It’s a sweet shirt, and Wild Side is pretty cool, so this all makes perfect sense to me. But you don’t need to apologize. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you it was him. He…” I trail off, again analyzing how much I should or should not say. “He’s been very private about his identity, and I was trying to respect that.” It’s not a lie, but it doesn’t give anything away.
Cora gives me a firm nod. “Good. I’m glad he’s with you and not that chick they’re playing off as his girlfriend. I fucking hate that storyline.”
I resist a wince. Deep down, I fucking hate that storyline too, and I’m trying not to let it get to me. I trust Rhys though, and I know it’s just part of the gig. But I’m seriously hoping it doesn’t go too far with everyone here watching.
“Well, get in there.” I hike a thumb over my shoulder. “It’ll be starting soon, and I’ve got snacks and hot appetizers galore.”
Cora’s head tips back, and she groans. “Oh, fuck yeah. I love your cooking.” Her eyes widen like she shouldn’t have sworn in front of me. “Don’t tell my dad.” And with that, she darts into the kitchen and dives into the plates of food set out on the counter.
I prop a shoulder against the spot near the entryway and watch everyone together. Laughing, eating, conversing.
This. This is what I love. It’s why I opened the bistro. It’s why I’ve got a freezer full of meals for Rhys and Milo.
Rhys.
A searing ache hits my chest just thinking about him. I know he’s away doing what he loves, and that makes me happy. But I know this would blow his mind. A room full of people, waiting to watch him do something that he’s hidden for so long.
So I pull my phone out and fire him off a text.
Tabby:
