Page 125 of Wild Side
In the morning, Rosie treats us all to the spa and puts it on Ford’s business card. She assures us it’s a “write-off” with a little giggle, but as a business owner myself, I’m not so sure that’s true.
Regardless, considering Ford has been featured inForbes, where they dubbed him the World’s Hottest Billionaire, I’m not too worried about it.
I gratefully accept the gift and bask in a hot stone massage, cold plunge, and hot tub, followed by a facial and pedicure. After years of running myself ragged to care for everyone else, it feels both foreign and deeply satisfying to take care of myself for a few hours.
In the hazy mist of the steam room, I think about Erika, wishing she were here. She’d have acted too cool for a girls’ spa day, but deep down, she’d have enjoyed it. What I’m less certain about is how she’d feel about seeing Rhys and me together. I suspect it would have tapped into those feelings of me getting everything good while she was left with nothing.
Especially knowing now how she felt about Rhys. It’s something I’ve wrestled with since reading her journal entries, but it’s not a sentiment I feel obligated to honor. She was into Rhys for his looks, then for what he could do for her, and in the end, she liked him for his bank account. All of which I find unpalatable.
She may have loved the way he was with Milo. But there’s no mention of his voice, or his hands, or how he’s really vulnerable under that surly exterior. There’s no mention of loving him as Rhys Duprisandas Wild Side.
No, Erika didn’t love Rhys. Not in the way I do. I’ve let go of the guilt and decided I’m not taking anything that was hers or could have been hers. I’m taking one thing for myself after years of giving to everyone else. And I’m not letting him go.
I leave the steam room feeling clearheaded and ready to get dolled up to go watch my husband win his belt back.
I settled on a pair of leather pants and a Wild Side T-shirt that I ordered off the WPW website—though Cora insisted I crop itjust enough to show a hint of midriff. Neon green heels to match Rhys’s mask complete the look. Skylar works her magic on my hair, giving me big, blown-out curls I could never achieve on my own. And when I apply a touch more makeup than usual, I feel full-on glam vixen.
We walk to the arena and grab a drink at a high-top table, taking a breather because the merch line Cora wanted to wait in was absurdly long. Plus, the people-watching is downright epic. All ages and all ethnicities. Some people are fully in character, while others are in casual street clothes, accompanying kids wearing tiny plastic versions of the different championship belts.
The amount of Wild Side merch that passes us by is staggering.
Rosie nudges me. “Dude. I used to think Skylar was famous, but I feel like we’ve stepped through a portal into a world where Rhys is a king or something.”
Cora snorts. “He is.”
Gwen peers around with an expression of amused awe painted over every feature. “The energy in this place is fuckingwild.”
That makes me laugh, and I shake my head as I take a sip of my criminally priced arena beer.
Skylar nods, looking around with wide eyes. “Agreed.” Her sheltered, fancy-pants upbringing is shining through right now. She looks floored by her surroundings. It’s adorable. “Usually, I get recognized and approached, and I just… Like, I’ve gotten a few looks or waves, but it’s freeing, you know? I was worried.”
She’s been through the wringer with the media and her fans, so she was hesitant to come with us. But West’s idea of going a little incognito, surrounded by friends, seemed to allay her fears.
I reach over and rub her shoulder. “It’s that Wild Side cap you’re wearing. The Skylar Stone everyone thinks they know wouldn’t be caught dead in that.”
She rolls her eyes and inclines her head toward me. “Well, new Skylar is a huge fan of this cap. I’ll start wearing it more often. Green is so in right now.”
“Sky,” Rosie starts in, looking around with a slight smirk on her lips as she lifts both hands. “I think what’s happening here is that the Venn diagram of people who listen to Skylar Stone”—she shakes her left hand—“and the wrestling fans who love it enough to attend live events”—she shakes her right hand—“do not cross over very much.”
We all laugh now because Rosie might not be wrong.
Cora lifts her soda, and we all follow suit as she leads us in a toast. I grin, loving that she’s here, joining in with us. “To Skylar finding her new people and Rhys—uh,Wild Sidetaking back his championship!”
“Hear, hear!” Skylar says, more loudly than I anticipated. And to that, we all cheers, and then roll out to find our seats.
Rhys:
Expect the unexpected.
Tabby:
What does that mean?!
He never texts me back, which makes waiting for Rhys’s match fucking torture. The arena is electric. Only the best wrestlers areout for tonight’s event, but nothing holds my attention. Nervous butterflies erupt in my stomach, and I twist my wedding ring as each match progresses.
Eventually Million Dollar Bill makes his entrance, strutting out like he owns the place, all blond curls and defined muscle paired with cocky smirks and finger guns. I know Rhys has told me he’s not so bad, but I can’t see it.
He must be a hell of an actor, because hescreamsdouchebag to me. He’s wearing black tights and boots lined with gold trim, and one of those loose-fitting robes that boxers wear, also printed in a garish gold pattern.
