Page 34 of Wild Card
There’s also a little part of me that feels like this is a step toward forgiveness. Like maybe he can finally stand the sight of me again. And the prospect of that makes me feel almost relieved. Like a weight lifts from my shoulders because I can’t stand the thought of anyone—especially him—disliking me.
“Clyde seems weak today. Figured I’d be here early to help get him—” Bash starts, but his sentence cuts off as I let out a watery sigh, followed by a sniffle. “Sorry, are you crying?”
I press my shoulders back and tip my nose up as I snatch a Kleenex from the box. “No.”
Bash’s skeptical gaze sweeps over me.
“Just have a runny nose,” I add, dabbing at my nose right as a stray, traitorous tear tumbles down my cheek.
His eyes track the droplet, like the tear itself has done something to offend him. Then my other eye betrays me, and his gaze moves over my face, sharp and assessing. Jaw popping, he pushes to stand, his tall, broad form towering over me.
“What did he say to you?” His voice comes out rough, edged with something fierce.
I blink, dabbing at my stupid, leaky eyes as I shake my head. “No. No. It’s not?—”
He goes to step past me, his focus like a laser down the hallway where Clyde is resting. “So help me, if Clyde made you cry, I’ll?—”
“Bash.” My hand darts out to stop him and lands flat on his chest. Just like that day in the bathroom at Tripp’s party, I can feel the hard lines of his toned body beneath the soft weave of his flannel shirt.
His head jerks down, eyes snapping to the contact as we both still.
I should move my hand—snap it back like I’ve touched a hot stove. Because this fire between us is bound to burn someone eventually.
But I don’t.
Instead, I tip my face up and let my fingers splay.
His dark eyes lock with mine and the air between us thickens. If I wasn’t choked up already, the sheer intensity of Bash’s expression would be the thing making it hard to breathe.
“Thank you,” I murmur, voice still watery.
His gaze searches my face again, attention flicking between my eyes, like he’s looking for more information.
“Clyde’s asleep. But he told me about the—the kidney.” My voice breaks, and more wetness springs up in my eyes. “And just…thank you. I’m so relieved.”
“You’re crying because you’re happy?” The bite that was in his tone has morphed into a soft rumble.
I smile up at him and nod. What can I say? I’m a sensitive gal. I’ve always felt things just a little more deeply.
Bash lets out an exasperated groan, his eyes closing for one long beat as he gives his head a subtle shake. “Please don’t cry. It’s just a kidney.”
A weepy laugh lurches from my throat. “Only you would say it’sjusta kidney. He’s…he’s been so sore. So resigned. This is…” I suck in a trembling breath. “Bash, this is a new lease on life. You’re savinghim.”
A whimper spills from my lips as I continue to think about it, my breaths between sentences growing more emotional as I go. “This is so selfless, so brave. You’re giving him a piece of yourself. Do you not see how deeply generous this is?”
“For fuck’s sake,” Bash growls. “You’re killing me.”
And then he stuns me by reaching forward, his fingers cradling my jaw as calloused thumbs sweep my tears away with a touch far gentler than I would have expected.
His palm slips down, softly cradling the side of my neck. I’m pretty sure I stop breathing altogether. But then I force myself to look up at him, and it’s like the world shrinks down to just us. Then his eyes meet mine before dropping to my mouth. His throat bobs and I suck in a breath.
The scent of him wraps around me—something woodsy mixed with something sweet, like cedar dusted with vanilla.
It’s just a little too easy to imagine his hands on me. Holding me like I’m his before dropping his lips to mine.
It’s silly. Frivolous. And unlikely, considering the fact that I’m quite sure he hates me for dating his son. Something I’msharply reminded of when he stoops just slightly, bringing his face to the same level as mine. The simplest motion feels warm and reassuring with him.
“Stop crying, Gwen. I can’t stand it. Everything is fine.”
