Wilder

“So why do they call you Wilder?” Candy asked, her hand disturbingly close to my thigh. Usually I’d be all for it. Why not spend a night with a gorgeous woman and no strings attached?

But now I had Leah, and Candy was no Leah.

“It’s my last name,” I answered.

She pouted. “Is that really all there is?”

“Because he’s always up for any trick or any challenge. He’s got a wild streak a mile wide,” Landon answered.

“I like wild,” Candy said, moving even closer.

I slid another six inches away.

“And why are you Nova?” her friend asked.

“Casanova has a way with the ladies,” I helped him out. Not that Landon needed any help. Hell, he needed someone to yank back the leash and remind him who he was underneath the man-whore. It just sucked that the reminder was going to come at the cost of my own relationship.

She’ll understand if you tell her, one part of me argued.

You blew past the honesty door, bud. Enjoy this while it lasts, the other added.

But losing Leah… God, I couldn’t even think about it. A feeling between vomit-worthy nausea and midnight-black sorrow possessed my body every time the reminder crept in that I’d already fucked up the best thing I’d ever had.

“So I can see,” Candy said while her friend giggled.

I ran my thumb down my glass of ice water, wiping away a streak of condensation. Was this really how I’d spent my nights before coming on the Athena? Is this what had made me happy?

Hell, had I actually been happy?

Busy, yes. Challenged, sure. My life was demanding, and awesome at times, but I couldn’t remember feeling…happy. Not in the way I had been these last few days.

“…don’t you think?” Candy asked, looking at me for a response to a question I hadn’t heard.

And that’s what I got for not listening.

“I think Wilder might disagree,” Landon answered, bailing me out with a discreet nod. “Sure, Bermuda was great, but I think he liked Mykonos the best.”

I took the cue. “Yeah, there is something to be said for the beaches there.”

“Speaking of sex,” Candy said as the waitress delivered our shots.

Nice segue.

“To making unforgettable memories with no regrets,” Candy said, raising her shot, “and no strings.” She turned her blue eyes on me, and I nodded, slamming back the sickly sweet shot while I prayed for patience.

“Well, you two look like your dance cards are full,” Penna said as she reached the table, decked out in club wear that screamed, “look, but touch and I’ll throat-punch you.” It was her specialty.

“Penna,” I said, trying to keep the relief out of my voice. She’d always been good at fending off attention when I wanted to be left alone.

“Well, maybe he saved room for one,” Leah said as she stepped out from behind Penna, and my mouth dropped.

Her hair was down, framing her heart-shaped face, and Penna had done something to her eye makeup to bring out the gold flecks in her eyes. Given the plunge of that black halter neckline, I would have said she dressed her, too.

Leah glanced between Candy and me. “Or maybe you are full up?”

Shit. I was not going to get into a fight with Leah over this superficial bullshit. Before I could toss Candy out of the booth—cameras be damned—Leah gave me a smile that hit me a hell of a lot harder than that shot.

She arched an eyebrow at me in flirtatious challenge, and I took it. “I think I can squeeze you in,” I said with a serious nod. “If you’ll excuse me?” I said to Candy.

She huffed but moved so I could get out of the booth. Even with the stuffy, heated air of the club, I instantly breathed easier.

“Hey, have you met Justin?” Penna asked Candy, steering her toward one of the new Renegades. God bless her.

I turned back to Leah, who looked up at me and laughed. “I leave you alone for five minutes…”

“This is not what it looks like,” I started.

“You’re not putting on a Wilder act for Bobby?” she asked.

My mouth opened and shut a couple times. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I was doing.”

“Then it is what it looks like to me.” She fingered the rolled-up sleeves of the collared shirt I wore. “But you do look ridiculously good doing it.”

I glanced to Bobby, who was shooting me a death glare from where he was set up against the wall. Guess we’d ruined that shot. “You’re not mad?” I asked.

“Not at all.” She moved her hands to play with the buttons on my shirt.

The woman was a saint.

“It’s not like I didn’t know who you were when I agreed to whatever we’re doing.”

What. The. Fuck? “I’m sorry?” I asked her.

She looked up at me. “We never agreed to exclusivity, and if you’re supposed to keep up your image, there’s nothing I can do about it.” Her eyes lowered, and her forehead puckered. “I mean, I’m hoping it wouldn’t go past that booth—”

“We never…?” I shook my head then gave Bobby the “cut” sign. “We’re dancing.”

“We are?” she asked, but I was already leading her by the hand to the floor.

I pulled her into my arms as the slow song played, my hands a hell of a lot gentler than my tone. “What the hell do you mean we never agreed to be exclusive?”