Page 9 of Moonflower

“Wilder fucking Kemp, tell me what the hell is going on!”

“Made you a sandwich. It’s on the kitchen counter,” he says as he starts walking out of my room. “Oh, and you should definitely shower.”

“I don’t need you to mother me,” I snap.

He turns to me, raising an eyebrow. Doesn’t have to say a single word.

“Fuck you,” I grit out.

“We’re leaving in a half hour.”

I flip him off before storming into the bathroom.

Ever since Cora told us she wasn’t coming home for Halloween, I’ve been in a funk. Well, that’s only part of it, I suppose. Fall always has me feeling down. Something about the lack of sunlight and seasonal depression, blah blah blah. Cora tried to explain it to me once, but I wasn’t in the mood to care. I love her more than I love myself, and I know she was just trying to help me. But can you help a person who has no motivation to help themself?

After a quick shower and brushing my teeth, I scarf down the sandwich Wilder made for me. It’s not pleasant mixed with the lingering taste of spearmint in my mouth, but it is what it is.

Wilder comes into the kitchen from his bedroom carrying a backpack. “You’ll want to pack a bag. We’re spending the weekend. And we need to leave in ten minutes.”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

He smirks. “Oh, and pack your ropes.” And then he shrugs on his black leather jacket and heads outside.

Why is he being such an asshole? And why the hell would I bring my ropes?

In my room, I shove some clothes and toiletries into a bag. I grab my sketchbook and pencils too, even though I haven’t had any motivation to draw in weeks. After that, I scan my room, feeling like I’m forgetting something.

“Ready?” Wilder shouts.

With a groan, I sling my bag over my shoulder. “Coming!”

In Wilder’s car, I throw my bag in the backseat. As Wilder pulls onto the road, he throws me a glance.

“Seatbelt.”

“I can take care of myself,” I say, pulling it on.

He doesn’t answer, probably because I’ve been actively disproving that comment ever since I got out of bed. But what can I say? He’s the one who woke me up thirty minutes ago and shoved this last-minute plan on me.

“You gonna explain?” I ask after he’s pulled onto the highway.

“Do you love Cora?”

“What kind of question is that?” I spit out. “Of course I love her.”

“No,” Wilder says, his voice even. “I mean romantically. Sexually.”

I’m silent for a long minute before I sag in my seat. I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time. Gotta admit, though, I was hoping it’d never happen.

Without making it obvious, I take Wilder in. He’s so . . . put together. His dark hair has been recently trimmed, and it’s styled in a way that makes Cora stare at him for a second too long. It’s not just that, though. It’s everything about him. His jacket and fitted black jeans paired with his combat boots give him a sleek yet intimidating look. Or maybe it’s how goddamn confident he always is.

He’s perfect for Cora. Exactly what she needs.

I sigh. “Look, man. I probably should’ve told you this years ago. Not really sure why I didn’t, honestly. But . . . If you want Cora, she’s yours. I won’t fight you or stand in your way.”

Wilder slams on the brakes and pulls over. There’s nothing in front of us, so I don’t get why. Until he throws the car into park and turns to look at me. His glare is surprised. Angry, almost.

“You think I’d do that to you.”

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