Page 23 of The Other Side of Wild
“You don’t know how they met, do you?” More confusion from Mr. Tall, dark and broody. “He physically ran into her, then proceeded to knock her down because he ran out of the locker room like a bull in a china shop. He bulldozed her over, hence the nickname Bulldozer or Dozer.”
“Hmm...” Mr. Mysterious says.Well, that was an exhilarating conversation.
“Grey, why are you here?” My eyes drift up to meet his; they’re full of hope and excitement.
“Well, first, I brought you coffee and a muffin.” He holds them both up as if it’d make me less frustrated with this situation. “Harley ran off with the pumpkin dog treat I brought her. Second, this is Tatum, my younger brother. Third, we’re taking you to this week's Wilder Family Sunday lunch!” Extending his arm, he hands me the cup and bag. I stare at them warily; I don’t like being ambushed. Yet I can’t duck and run because, well. I’m in my own house.
Wait. Did he say Wilderfamilylunch? Pump the breaks, buddy. My body immediately heats, and I feel clammy. What is he talking about? Like with parents? No, no, no. Nope. How do I get out of this while there are two of them here?
“It’s nice to meet you, Tatum, I’m Hannah.” I extend my hand to shake his, but he just stares at it and then grunts before turning and walking to the other side of the room.
Well, okay then. Rude.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I jut my chin in the direction of my room, then dart towards it before I finish my sentence. I close the door behind him, and all of a sudden, I’m very aware of the man in front of me.
His forearms are on full display, veins wrapping around them like a present waiting to be unwrapped. His jeans had to be custom-made because they fit like a glove. Showing off a perfect set of quads and an even nicer ass. Nope, that’s not what we came in here for.
I notice he’s looking around my room; at one point, that may have embarrassed me. But, there’s not much in here, a desk under the window overlooking a small body of water. My queen-sized bed is the perfect size for Harley snuggles, with a dresser off to my left next to the closet and the bathroom to my right. The walls are an off-white color with framed pictures of Abby and me, my mom and brother, and, of course, my Harley girl.
My mind is running in ten different directions, and I’m not sure which way I should go first. I’m trying not to explode, not out of anger but of confusion. Why is he taking me somewhere with his family? Why did he show up out of nowhere? Did he think I’d decline? I mean, I probably would have unless there’s a really good reason for it. I cross my arms over my chest as his eyes continue to dart around the room, and I realize he’s stalling and not looking around.
“Explain.” The word falls out before I can stop it. His eyes flick to mine, wide and uncertain. He looks like he’s questioning every decision he’s ever made. I kinda feel bad, but at the same time, I need an answer.
He shifts his weight from side to side, slipping his hands into his back pockets. His tongue presses against the side of his cheek as his eyes find a spot on the floor, clearly avoiding mine.
He sighs as he finally looks at me, a sheepish grin tugs at his lips. “I wanted to introduce you to my family before the carnival next week.” His voice softens as he continues, “I’m sorry, I got a little excited.” He runs his hand down his face like he’s trying to rid himself of the nerves clearly written all over his face. “We leave for Washington in a few days, I’m nervous. And to be honest, I just wanted to see you.”
My heart accelerates at a pace I’m sure isn’t safe and for reasons I can’t quite explain. “Okay, and you thought the best course of action was to surprise me at 8 AM on a Sunday with zero knowledge of this event? I’m not ready to leave the house; it’s going to take me at least half an hour to get ready.”
“That’s okay!” He’s quick to say. “Plus, my mom won’t shut up about meeting the ‘young lady’ from last week.”
Buh-dum-tss. There it is. I laugh, “You should’ve stopped while you were ahead, Grey.” Oh, holy smokes. I sound like my dad, gross. Shaking my head to clear my head of that thought, I pull my hair out and grab my brush off the dresser.
His teeth are biting so hard into his bottom lip that it’s turning white. I take two steps toward him and free it, my hand lingering a moment too long. He catches my wrist in his hand and brings his lips to my fingertips. He places a kiss on my open palm, before intertwining our fingers and dropping our hands between us. “I needed to see you before I left,” he says softly, the sincerity in his voice making the space between us feel smaller. “I knew if I told you about my mom wanting to meet you, you would’ve found a way out of it.”
His words hit me in the strangest way. “I wouldn’t have; if it means something to you, it means something to me, too.” The words shocked me on their way out of my mouth. The only reasonable explanation for me suddenly being okay with this sneak attack is I haven’t had my coffee yet. Oh heck, let’s be real, I’d probably steal the moon if he asked me to. And maybe, just maybe, I miss my family. It’d be nice tobe around one for a few hours. Unless they’re psychotic, then I’ll need an escape plan.
He raises his eyebrows before saying, “Yeah?” Eyes twinkling in the soft light of my bedroom, he looks so young, so innocent.
“Yeah, Grey, I care about you. A lot.” I pause letting the weight of my words settle over the two of us. “It’s terrifying.” I press up on my toes and place a soft kiss on the underside of his jaw. “Let me get ready, and I’ll meet you in the living room. You might want to make sure Abby hasn’t killed your brother yet.”
“Son of a nutcracker! I forgot about him.” He turns and bolts from the room. I stare at the door for a minute before I walk to my closet to find something suitable for the occasion.Thinking back to last week when we hung out, he was so open and vulnerable with me; it made me realize my little crush has grown legs. My head and my heart are currently at war over what to do about that.
Twenty-five minutes and two mental pep talks later, I walk into my living room, stopping just short of the archway. “What in the actual?” Greyson is on the floor flat on his stomach; his brother is sitting on his back, Greyson’s left leg is pulled up behind him at a 90-degree angle. Did I just walk into a WWE match?
Abby, bless her soul. Sweet, sweet Abby. “Abs, you’re drooling.” She gasps and whips her head towards me at top speed.
“I am not.” Her signature “I’ve been caught” scowl is on her face.
“What’s happening here?” I ask, not even attempting to hide my amusement.
“They were arguing overwho the stronger brother is. Greyson bench-pressed Tatum, but now Tatum is showing how scrappy soccer players are as he literally tripped Greyson, rolled him to his stomach, and has been sitting on him like this for...” She glances at her watch, “Three minutes and twenty-seven seconds.”
“And what exactly are they waiting for?”
“He needs to say mercy,” Tatum explains, sounding as bored as one would be watching paint dry.
“NEVER!” Greyson yells while raising his fist to the sky, reminding me of a lost boy from Peter Pan. A sense of longing passes through me, one which Abby catches because, as I’ve said before, nothing gets past her.