Page 9 of Wylder & the Rising Rockstar
“What has my stoic buddy so happy?” Wylder lifted a brow, not shrugging Killian off because his arm warmed her.
“It’s Friday, and there’s no game tomorrow.”
“Ah, got it.” She shook her head.
Logan looked between them. “What am I missing?”
Wylder laughed. “You might want to um… steer clear of Killian’s room tonight. A free Friday night when he doesn’t have to hit the sack early means—"
“Date night,” Killian finished. “It’s been forever.”
“You and D are together all the time, Killer. It’s not like you haven’t seen him.”
“Yes, butdate night.It’s different.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Oh my gosh, why did I even ask?” She shoved him away.
He stumbled and still managed to give Logan a high five.
“What about you?” Logan asked. “You have plans tonight? Pillow fights with Devyn or like painting toenails or something?”
Wylder chuckled. “You obviously know me so well. But yes, as a matter of fact, I do have plans. Sorry if you wanted to, um, hang out.” They didn’t do dates, not officially. They did hangs that usually ended in kissing as long as no one else was around. Not like their friends didn’t know though.
Logan hitched his bag higher on his shoulder and swiped his keycard at the front of the dorm building. “So, what are you doing?”
The warm air in the lobby thawed Wylder’s limbs, and she sighed in relief as she unzipped her puffy white coat. “I’m going home for a bit.” She had to get to the bottom of why Becks still hadn’t answered her calls. If anyone would spill, it was her dad.
But that wasn’t the only reason she wanted to go. Every year for as long as she could remember, her stepmom marked the first snow of the season by making her chicken noodle soup and homemade butter biscuits. It was the only thing that made winter tolerable.
She didn’t know if Logan was waiting for an invitation, but he hesitated before following Killian into the boys’ wing.
Wylder waved to the security guard at the desk and made her way to her room. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Logan with her, but if what she suspected of Becks was true, Logan couldn’t be there when she found out.
She shucked her cold weather gear in the common room, draping it on the couch, and checked the time on her phone. Four in the afternoon. Classes were over for the week, but she had a ton of homework.
And she didn’t want to do any of it. She would, just not now. Ms. Jones had been nice enough to grant her a gate pass when her dad called, and now he’d be here in half an hour. They were doing an early dinner because her parents were playing some card game with friends later.
Yeah, they had more of a life on a Friday night than she did. How sad.
Her stomach rumbled, and she realized she couldn’t hold off until dinner. Rummaging in the kitchen, she pulled out an empty bag of pretzels, cursing herself for being lazy and not throwing it out when she finished it. Now it was just a tease. She and the boys had already burned through most of the snacks she came back from break with, but she wouldn’t tell her mom that.
There was one weird granola bar thing. She growled as she pulled it out. The word protein was in big lettering. Logan must have left it here. Or Killian. Whoever it was, she was going to kill them. This kind of thing did not belong in her kitchen.
Yet, she was hungry. With a sigh, she took a bite. Was that… chocolate? And nuts. Oh gosh, she took another bite and moaned. “Why didn’t anyone tell me these were so good?” Logan would probably say he’d tried, but he’d certainly never uttered the word chocolate.
She ate the entire thing in three more bites and checked the time again. Closing her cabinets, she walked toward the couch to ready herself for braving the cold once again.
Bundled up, she made her way toward the circular drive near the front gates to find her dad’s familiar car waiting for her, beckoning to her with its warmth.
Yanking open the passenger side door, she threw herself in. “Oh, you had the seat warmer ready for me. My butt thanks you.”
Her dad didn’t look at her as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Hi, sweetie.” Something was off, but she tried to ignore it.
“I have been hankering for Mom’s soup all week long.”
He flashed her a smile before turning his eyes to the road. At the gate, she rolled her window down and flashed the gate pass. “Wylder Anderson.”
The guard, one she didn’t recognize, scanned the list of names in front of him and nodded. “Go ahead. Your pass is for three hours.”
