Page 92 of Wild

“Your dad told us today we’re playing at Griffin’s this Friday. You been before?” I ask.

“Of course—I’m from here, remember?” she jokes.

“You and Kira should come.”

“We wouldn’t miss it,” she vows.

“Your dad will be there. Willow Creek too. I’m … nervous,” I admit.

It feels like a weak thing to admit. Nerves are pointless. They do nothing but hold you back, but I am nonetheless. It’s a small venue, sure, and we’ve done larger, but when your mentor and his bandmates are going to be watching, and judging, it’s a whole new ball game.

“Don’t be,” she says. “My dad would’ve never signed you if he didn’t love you guys. You should hear the way he talks about you guys to my mom—he’s like a proud papa. I think he might think of you guys as his sons, but he’ll never admit it to your face.”

I snorted. “I doubt it.”

“You’d be surprised,” she says, stifling another yawn. “He’s a total softy. My mom wouldn’t have fallen for him otherwise. Did you know when I was like … two or three, I can’t remember, he invited my mom to his birthday party and told her to bring me—it was at a Chuck E. Cheese.”

I laugh uproariously picturing Hayes in a fucking Chuck E. Cheese for his birthday.

“For real?” I ask.

“For real,” she echoes.

“He can be scary when he’s pissed, but he’s really a big kid. You should be more afraid of that poor cub who bit you.”

I groan, tossing my head back. “I’m never going to live that down. It was ascratch,” I defend. “I didn’t even want to go to the fucking hospital, but the guys lost their shit. They thought I might get rabies.”

“You can’t get rabies if you already have it.”

I pinch her side and she giggles.

How quickly I’ve come to love that sound, to crave it and expect it as surely as I expect the sun to rise in the morning.

“You should go to sleep,” I tell her, concerned when she yawns yet again.

As much as I’d love to strip her down and fuck her right here, I know she’s not up for it. She needs to rest.

“Not yet,” she says.

“Okay,” I give in.

I brush my fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp as I do.

“That feels good,” she murmurs.

I keep going.

I don’t know how much time has passed but eventually I look down and see her eyes closed, her lips parted with sleep. Her chest rises and falls with each breath. Her eyes roam behind her closed lids, already in a deep enough sleep to be dreaming.

As gently and as carefully as I can, I maneuver out from under her. I slide my arms under her small body and lift her to my chest, carrying her to her bed. She already has the sheets turned back, making it easy to lay her down and cover her up.

She rolls to her side and doesn’t stir.

I strip down to my boxer-briefs before climbing into the bed beside her. I spoon my body around hers and she wiggles her butt against me.

I groan as she settles.

Her hair tickles my nose, smelling faintly of honey and some kind of flower.

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