Page 112 of Wild Card
I take an awkward seat next to him on the couch, feeling like I’m in high school again, sitting next to a boy I like, unsure of how to act around him.
He flicks the TV on and settles back into the cushions. His body relaxed like this is the most natural thing in the world. His arm drapes over my shoulders, and it hits me that we have all this opportunity—now that we’ve both given in—and I feel paralyzed by the simplicity of it.
“Gwen, stop overthinking this,” he says without turning to look at me.
“I’m not overthinking this,” I say back.
Now he turns, tongue popping into his cheek like he’s got something stuck in his teeth. “I can practically hear you thinking,” he says. “You wanted to take a nap. So relax, take a nap.”
“Okay, I just… This feels very domestic,” I say, a flutter of nerves rearing up in me as I realize that the relationships I’ve had didn’t prepare me for these moments. The quiet moments, the moments of companionship where you just revel in another person’s company without having to talk.
And it’s like Bash can tell. He reads me so perfectly. It’s like he knows exactly what to say.
“Okay, lie down and put your feet on my lap.”
“My feet? Do you have some weird fetish I need to know about?”
“Gwen, give me your feet and stop talking.” He pats his lap. “Prop that pillow behind your head and take a nap while I watch sports. That’s how we’re going to enjoy each other’s company this afternoon.”
I give him a few nods as I turn and lie back, arranging the pillow underneath my head in a comfortable position. “No funny stuff, Rousseau,” I tease as I extend my legs in his direction and wiggle my toes like an offering.
He settles my feet in his lap with a smirk and flicks through the channels, eventually landing on a baseball game. The hum of the TV fills the room, and I take a deep breath, feeling my body relax. For once, I’m not thinking. Just…here.
After a few seconds, a thrill races through me because my feet aren’t just in Bash’s lap. His big strong hands have wrapped around one of them almost absently, his fingers massaging, prodding, twisting.
I smile and let out an appreciative moan, a subtle way of saying,Please, sir, may I have more?
“For fuck’s sake, Gwen,” he grumbles, but he doesn’t stop rubbing my feet, even as the swell of his hardening dick contacts the heel of my foot.
Unlike so many of the guys I’ve dated, though, he doesn’t pounce on the opportunity to make this moment about sex. Instead, he continues massaging my feet with surprising skill.
He rubs them until I drift off from his soothing touch, allowing myself to enjoy being taken care of for the first time in a very, very long time
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
BASH
Bash: Hey, Tripp. Checking in on you. Wanted to make sure you made it home safe.
Tripp: Yup.
The days that follow carry on in a happy, lust-addled haze.
Gwen teaches and takes care of Clyde.
I bowl and work on my mental health so that I can be in proper shape to do the job that I love. Hell, I even attend the odd yoga class.
Every day feels better. The combination of healthy eating, exercise, and companionship has me feeling lighter overall.
I would be lying if I said that I’m not avoiding dealing with the Tripp aspect of our current situation. Clyde knows, and aside from the odd, incredibly awkward and inappropriate comment, he lets us carry on without judgment.
My room has become our room, and I no longer avoid family dinners with the two of them. Still, knowing that Tripp left town on such awkward terms nags at me. It’s been almost a week since Gwen’s party and he hadn’t contacted me, which made me wonder if Gwen was right—if he was onto us.
So I figured I’d test the waters by sending him a text this morning. When I got a one-word answer, never has a person overthought the wordyupso thoroughly.
Part of me had enjoyed having Tripp there that evening. In so many ways, it felt like a step forward. Like something that could be possible. Like Gwen and I could build a life in Rose Hill with our friends around us and Tripp could still come to visit.
Like maybe, just maybe, everything that I wanted was within reach.
