Born Wild

Of course, the real reason his mouth was pulling the whole dry-as-the-desert- Southwest thing was because he could actually feel himself slipping closer and closer to the void with each passing second. Slipping closer and closer to that place where he threw caution to the wind and—

“I never did tell you how sorry I was about those pictures,” she broke into his frantic thoughts, a catch in her voice.

He turned, cocking his head and frowning. “You can’t blame yourself for those,” he assured her. “Not after today.”

“But I do blame myself,” she insisted, staring down at the half-eaten sandwich in her hand. “If only I’d had the guts to tell my father to…to shove it. If…if only I’d stayed true to you, kept the promise I gave you, then none of this would’ve happened. None of this…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “I’m just really sorry, Billy.”

A few months ago he would have been beyond thrilled to hear those words from her mouth. Now? Well, for some reason—probably because, in spite of everything, he just felt so friggin’ sorry for her—they were about as rewarding as a cheap, plastic trophy.

And for a moment he considered holding his tongue, for a moment he thought perhaps it might be better for him, and for her, if he just accepted her apology and let it all go. But the question of why had been burning a hole in his brain since the day that wedding announcement arrived in the mail. And he knew if ever there was a time to face the facts about what’d happened, to get the explanation he’d always felt he so richly deserved, it was now. So, he sucked in a deep breath through his nose and blurted, “Why did you agree to go out with Blake?”

Her graceful throat worked over a swallow, her blue eyes filling with tears. Again he considered holding his tongue, calling back the question, letting her off the hook, but when he opened his mouth, instead of the words forget it. It doesn’t matter now. It’s all water under the bridge…Instead of those words coming out, he demanded instead, or maybe it was his ego that demanded, “Was it because he was handsome? Or rich? Or smart? Or suave? Was it because he came from the right family, or—”

She shook her head, two large teardrops spilling over her lower lids to run down her cheeks and drip from her trembling chin. His instinct was to reach forward to wipe at the glistening trails. Instead, he curled his fingers around the plate in his lap as his heart thudded viciously in his chest, as his blood hammered through his veins, as he remained as still as the hot, humid air outside. Not daring to move. Barely daring to breathe when she blew out a puff of breath that ruffled the hair around her face, causing one dark strand to stick to her tear-wet cheek.

“I was a coward,” she said. Just those four words. And they explained so much, yet, at the same time, revealed so little. “My dad kept harping on me,” she eventually continued, her face twisting with derision and self- disgust. “And I was too chicken-hearted to keep saying no to him. So, you know, I thought, Hey, I’ll just do it. I’ll go out with Blake. That’ll get my dad off by back, and Billy never has to know.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, a thousand responses tumbling through his head. But how could you think to deceive me like that? Why couldn’t you have just stood up for me and the vows we made? Why didn’t you tell me what your father was up to? Why didn’t you—

“But it was a betrayal,” she cut in on his frothing thoughts. “I betrayed you the moment I agreed to that date. And for that I’m so very sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am.”

“But why did—”

“And then afterward,” she interrupted him, her eyes taking on a sad, faraway look that had him wondering if she’d even heard his attempt to ask a question, or if her mind had traveled back in time. “When you didn’t—” She stopped herself abruptly, timidly meeting his gaze. “I don’t know,” she finally shrugged. “I suppose it was just… maybe easy is the word for it. I was disgusted with myself, depressed and withdrawn, and there was Blake, telling me he wanted me, telling me I was beautiful and desirable. He was handsome and charming. My father loved him. My friends loved him. He knew all the same people I knew, did all the same things I did, so when he asked me to marry him, I figured, why not? It seemed like the thing to do, the thing everyone wanted me to do. Of course, that was the rationale of a young and incredibly stupid mind. Obviously, right?” She snorted derisively, picking at the crust on her sandwich. “Considering how it all turned out?”

And it was finished. The explanation was finished. Finally. Finally, he knew why.

He should’ve felt better. He didn’t…

Perhaps that’s because there was still one thing that didn’t make any sense. “Why did you send me that invitation?” The invitation that’d broken his fucking heart. The invitation that’d torn his entire world apart. “That’s the part I don’t get. I never knew you to be intentionally cruel.”

She cocked her head, her brow crinkling. “What invitation?”

“To your wedding. Did you send it to me thinking that it would be a sig—” he stopped himself when a series of emotions passed over her expressive face. First there was shock, quickly replaced by comprehension, morphing into unmistakable disgust mixed with more than a smidge of remorse.

His gut twisted, his ulcer burping up a cloud of stomach acid that warned him the peanut butter might’ve been a mistake. “You didn’t know,” he surmised, something inside him shifting, just a tiny bit. “It was your father.”

Her soft lips pulled down into a deep frown. “I…I suppose he just wanted to make sure you knew which way the wind had blown.”

He shook his head. “I guess I should’ve known.” And, really, he probably should have. Because even though she’d disappointed him, even though she’d gone back on her word, and even though she’d admitted to being a coward and had chosen another man over him because it was easier, the fact remained, Eve could never be purposefully unkind.

“How could you have known? I’d already screwed you over so badly, how could you have known I wouldn’t stoop to the next level?”

“You didn’t—”

“Don’t make any excuses for me, Billy,” she interrupted, her expression suddenly stern, her blue eyes boring into him. “I won’t be able to stand it if you start making excuses for me.”

Okay. So he wouldn’t make any excuses for her. At least not aloud. But inside himself he felt a categorical change, a shift in paradigm, in perception and—

“You should’ve been my first,” she said abruptly.

What the—

His brain turned to mush and slid out through his ears. His ringing ears. They must be ringing, right? Because he couldn’t have heard her correctly. “Huh?” It was the most astute question he could formulate.

“I’ve always regretted missing that chance.” And what was that expression on her face? Confusion, doubt…hope? All of the above? For some reason, probably because his brain was puddled on the mattress and stars were spinning in front of his vision, he was having trouble processing.

“Huh?” And there he went again, being all witty and clever, but really. He couldn’t think straight. Or crooked. Or any other way. He just couldn’t think. Period. Because if he wasn’t mistaken, Evelyn Rose Edens was propositioning him.

He must’ve been quiet for too long, because she rushed ahead. “I know how you feel about me. And I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t trust me either after what happened. So, I don’t expect this to lead anywhere. But I’m okay with that. If…if you’re okay with that, I mean. I…I just…” She stopped, rolled in her lips, and through the pinpoints of light dancing before his eyes, he could make out her imploring expression. “I just really want to see what it’s like to be with you. Even if it’s only this one time.”

And what did a man say to something like that?

Well, even with only a partially intact cerebral cortex, and despite the fact he was pretty sure it would undoubtedly blow up in his face, he knew what to say. Because what was that line from Catcher in the Rye? Something like, In my mind, I’m probably the biggest sex maniac you ever saw?

Well, when it came to Eve, no truer words had ever been written. So, yeah. He