CHAPTER FOUR

My suitcase was open on the bed, meticulously organized with perfectly folded clothes I was still undecided on. The dryer buzzed downstairs, signaling the last load, and I made a mental note to grab it when I was finished. My fleece robe clung to my still-damp skin, the soft fabric a small comfort as I paced back to the closet, trying to figure out what else to pack.

It shouldn’t have been so hard to pick out a few outfits for a single weekend, but Daniella wasn’t all that descriptive about what we’d be doing. She was a nature girl, so if she wanted to go hiking and I only had leggings and slipper boots, that would be a problem. Whatever she had in mind, I desperately needed this little getaway.

The past two weeks had been a relentless battle to avoid any possible run-ins with Wilder or his friends in our small-ass city.

Despite not crossing their paths once, he was still everywhere, in every corner of my head and deep inside my chest. What surprised me most was that he hadn’t shown up at my house. In fact, he’d made zero effort to reach out. He had to know he was blocked, and there hadn’t been a single peep unless you counted flowers. Each arrangement was different and accompanied by a note that the florist had probably debated reporting to the authorities or at least a shrink.

My sister and Ella were starting to see just how obsessive Wilder was. They’d always joked about it, teasing me over his intensity, but it was another thing entirely to witness it play out the way it was. While I didn’t want to give his actions any space in my mind, I couldn’t stop myself from reading between the lines of every note and each chosen bloom. It was as if he was speaking directly to me through them.

I didn’t miss their looks of concern when the flowers arrived, especially from my sister.

They didn’t say much, but I knew what they were thinking. After I got a little too overprotective, snapping at them for making it into a bigger deal than it was, I think they silently agreed to keep their opinions to themselves.

I didn’t mind the notes.

If I weren’t so fucking angry and hurt, I might’ve been a puddle on the floor reading them. That was the worst part—knowing that, despite everything, Wilder still had a hold on me. The cards were simple but devastating, the kind of obsessive, unhinged shit that left no doubt about what he thought.

"Every night without you feels like dying. Come home."

"You can block me, but you can’t run from me. You’re mine. Always."

"I would burn this city down to have you in my arms again. Say the word, Mint, and watch me do it."

One of them had been nothing more than a single sentence. "Tell me who to kill to fix this, and I’ll do it with a smile if it makes you happy."

Each time, I told myself to throw them out without reading, but I couldn’t because as much as they terrified me, they also made my heart twist in a sick, needy way I hated. The flowers were beautiful, of course. Wilder didn’t do anything half-assed. Roses, lilies, orchids—blooms I couldn’t even name, their meanings layered and deliberate. Once, he sent me a bouquet of asphodel and yarrow, which my sister had googled.

"Asphodel means eternal regret and yarrow is for healing wounds," she’d explained, her voice hesitant. "That’s… a lot."

Yeah. A lot.

That was Wilder, though.

Even in his silence, he was still finding ways to invade my life, leaving me reeling in the aftermath of him.

For fourteen days.

Fourteen fucking days.

It didn’t sound like much, just hours and seconds when you broke it down, but when it felt like part of you was missing, when the pain twisted itself into something physical, clawing at your chest, fourteen days was endless. Each second dragged, and each minute felt like a lifetime. Nights were the worst. The silence and the absence of his warmth were a constant reminder of everything I’d lost.

Part of me was relieved, thankful for the space to breathe and sort through the mess he’d made of me. Mostly, I was crushed. I hated the tiny voice in the back of my mind whispering that maybe I didn’t matter to him as much as he always claimed. It was relentless, eating away at the fragile pieces of my heart I was desperately trying to hold together. Every day had been a battle, a rollercoaster of hysterics, rage, and a sickening emptiness I couldn’t shake.

The anger kept me afloat, burning bright enough to drown out the hurt, but it was fleeting. Always so damn fleeting. I wasn’t sure what I would get out of this spontaneous vacation, but a change of scenery couldn’t hurt. Right?

The faint beep of the security system announced the front door opening, pulling me from my spiral. I didn’t think twice about it. Cherish had run out to grab ice for the coolers; she didn’t want to deal with it in the morning before we headed out. I backed out of the closet with a pair of sweatpants in hand, wondering what to match them with.

“Taking a trip without me?”

I yelped, my heart slamming against my ribs. Whipping around, my pulse thundered in my ears as my gaze landed on him.

“Wilder?”

He was leaning casually against the wall beside my now-closed bedroom door.

His eyes fixed on me with the unrelenting intensity that always stripped me bare. He looked infuriatingly perfect as if the last two weeks hadn’t gutted him the way they had me. He was so damn gorgeous this could have been an image in a men’s magazine. The smirk tugging at his lips was one I knew too well.

For a moment, I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. The storm of questions that had haunted me every day since that night surged forward, demanding answers. I wasn’t sure I wanted them anymore. I certainly didn’t need them. Whatever answers he had would not be beneficial to me moving on. I was pretty certain they would just split me open all over again.

“You like the flowers?”

What a stupid, rhetorical question. I had been going out of my way to make them all live for as long as they could. He knew I liked flowers. There were four massive vases in my room. More were downstairs.

“What are you doing here?” I asked in place of answering.

“I needed to see you up close.”

That implied he’d seen me from a distance. I scoffed, crossing my arms like it would protect me from the weight of his presence. “So, you show up in my bedroom?”

“I just need you to listen,” he said, cutting me off, his voice soft but commanding. “Can you do that for me?”

“How the hell did you even get inside the house?”

He smiled, and my stupid heart flipped. “Cherish left the door unlocked. Convenient, isn’t it?”

“More like reckless,” I shot back, my arms tightening. “You need to leave.”

“I’ll go,” he assured, way too smoothly, his tone almost playful. “After we finish talking.”

That word felt like a cruel joke, given the way he looked at me, like I was still his.

“You don’t get to decide when we talk, Wilder,” I snapped, desperate to drown out the war raging inside me. “And you sure as hell don’t get to just show up here like this just because you can.”

“But I did show up, Mint,” he replied, his tone softening, “You’re going to listen to me whether you want to or not . We can always do this the hard way. I know that’s your favorite.”

My face flushed. I tried to hold his gaze, but my mind betrayed me, spiraling. It felt much longer than two long, miserable weeks since I’d felt him inside me. We’d always been insatiable, unable to get enough of each other, stealing moments whenever and wherever we could. Sometimes it wouldn’t even be sex, he’d just hold me close and everything else melted away.

The memories twisted something sharp and ugly in my chest. It disgusted me how much I missed him.

My body ached for someone who clearly wasn’t mine, not wholly. My heart was one thing. It had belonged to him and only him for years. He was my first everything beyond a few meaningless kisses. I thought I was safe in his hands. My eyes began to burn, and I silently cursed.

“I can’t stand that look on your face.”

Why did that sound so sincere? He pushed off the wall, closing the distance between us in a few quick strides. My breath caught as I really took him in—slacks and a button that hugged his fit frame. I shifted, instinctively stepping to the side, keeping my eyes locked on him. I wasn’t afraid of Wilder, I never had been, but I knew he thrived on control. I had always happily given it to him. Now he could go fuck himself.

“You need to leave,” I repeated, my voice firmer this time, though it still wavered under the weight of his stare. I was starting to sound like a broken record, but I didn’t care.

“I’m not going anywhere. Not until we talk. You owe me that much.”

I couldn’t do this. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to. I’d blocked him for a reason. God, I wanted him close as much as I wanted to put his beautiful face through a wall. Is this what they meant by there was a thin line between love and hate? Did it apply when you were trying to force yourself to stand on one side of it?

“I owe you?” My voice cracked. “I’ve given more than enough, and it wasn’t—.”

He was suddenly right in front of me, his arms pulling me in before I could stop him. His warmth, his scent, it hit me all at once, like a battering ram on the resolve I was clinging to.

“Get off me.” I pushed against his chest, but it was useless. He didn’t budge like he had before.

“Calm down.” He spun me around, pressing my back against his front.

He carried me to the bed like I weighed nothing and sat down, pulling me with him until I was perched on his lap, my robe rising up. My pulse raced, my breath shallow as his hands gripped my hips, keeping me in place.

“Wilder,” I ground out, my voice shaking with frustration and nerves.

“Mint,” he countered playfully. “We’re going to talk.” He moved some of my hair aside and brushed his lips over my shoulder blade. “I’ve missed you. Missed us.”

“And all the bitches in your phone seem to have been missing you too.”

I felt his lips curve into a smile. “Right. That’s what I wanted to talk about.”

I stiffened instantly, my body going rigid. “I don’t want to talk about them,” I snapped, fighting against his hold. “Let go of me!”

He ignored my struggles and held onto me with ease. “Do you honestly think I would cheat on you? Risk us ? Risk you?”

His hand pressed firmly over my mouth, silencing my next tirade of protests. My chest heaved in a way that made my pulse hammer in my ears.

“I never would have touched Hughes if I’d known I would one day have you. The thing with her can’t even come close to what you are to me. She is nothing. You’re everything. ”

At the mention of Amber, a fresh surge of fury bubbled up inside me. I jerked my arm, trying to free myself, aiming to elbow him, but his grip only tightened, pinning me more firmly against him.

“None of that,” he chided. His lips brushed against my neck this time. “I know you’re angry. I know you’re hurting. That is the last thing I ever wanted. We’re going to have to work through this together until you’re better because, above all else, you’re mine.”

My anger flared again, but so did the traitorous ache inside me, the one I hated for being there at all.

The way he claimed me without hesitation left me feeling maddeningly conflicted.

“You don’t get to fix this by sweet-talking me,” I seethed against his hand, my voice muffled but no less defiant.

“Of course not.” His lips grazed the curve of my neck again. “I’m going to show you exactly how committed to you I am.” He pressed a kiss just below my ear. “But first,” he continued, his hold on my mouth loosening just enough to let me speak clearly, “tell me how much you miss me.”

“Go to hell.”

He laughed as if I’d said exactly what he wanted to hear. “Only if you come with me,” he countered, his grip tightening on my hip.

“I haven’t missed a damn thing.”

“Lying to me will you get fucked until you forget what you just lied about,” he teased. In one swift, fluid motion, he shifted his weight, pushing me flat onto my back.

His body covered mine instantly, a wall of heat and power pinning me down. “Why don’t we start with the fact that you’ve been crying yourself to sleep?” His tone shifted to something dangerously intimate. “You’re barely eating. And those fingers you’ve gotten so acquainted with?” His lips hovered just above mine, his breath warm against my skin. “A pitiful imitation of what I give you. No matter how hard you ride them, they’ll never be me.”

How did he know any of that?

“That’s not--.”

He cut me off by sealing his mouth over mine. The kiss was hot, and demanding, a collision of dominance and unrestrained need. His tongue slipped past my lips, claiming me in a way that left no room for argument.

Without thinking, I bit down hard, the metallic tang of blood spreading across my tongue.

He pulled back sharply, a sharp intake of breath escaping him. He groaned, a deep sound that turned into a laugh. Then he smiled, licking the corner of his lip. “Fuck, I love you.” He gripped my throat and kissed me again, stealing the air from my lungs.

A moan escaped as he pressed against me. I cursed myself for not wearing anything under my robe. Then again, I never would have expected this to happen when I put it on. His hand slid between my legs, fingers expertly finding their mark as I whimpered and gasped against his mouth. Panic and desire waged war within me.

“Wilder, no.” My voice came out breathless, a mixture of protest and pleading. “Shh,” he murmured against my skin. “Just let me take care of you, Mint.”

Tears pricked my eyes. “Wilder,” I tried again, weaker this time as his grip on my throat tightened just enough to silence me.

His fingers worked in and out of my pussy, his thumb circling my clit. It had been way too long since quitting him cold turkey.

I curled my hands around his solid shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt as if holding onto him could anchor me. I bit down on my lower lip to hold back my moans.

“Don’t.” His eyes locked onto mine as his fingers continued their devastating rhythm. “I want to hear you.”

I shook my head, refusing.

He leaned in, brushing his lips against my ear. “I love when you fight it, but you know I’m not stopping until you cum.”

A whimper escaped before I could stop it, the sound spurring him on. My legs trembled as he rocked his fingers in and out of me, increasing the pressure on my clit. I couldn't hold back any longer as he brought me closer and closer to the edge.

“Wilder,” I gasped, his name a plea on my tongue as the pressure finally snapped, sending a wave of heat crashing through me.

My nails dug into his shoulders as I rode out the wave pleasure.

I pulsed around his fingers, my breaths coming in short, gasping pants. He held me steadily, his other hand still firm on my throat, guiding me through the sensation.

“That’s my girl.” He pulled back. His eyes roamed over every inch of my face, lingering on my lips, flushed cheeks, and trembling form. “You’re so beautiful, Mint,” he murmured.

His words felt like both a balm and a wound, stirring up emotions within me that I didn't know how to handle. I watched in a daze as he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean of my release. “I needed something to hold me over,” he explained, his voice low but unapologetic. “Not fucking you right now, is the hardest thing I've ever had to do.”

My mind scrambled for a response, but before I could find one, his lips were on mine again. The kiss was rough and gentle all at once, leaving no room for escape.

“I promise I’m going to fix this.” He drew back and his breath mingled with mine.

His gaze roamed over my face one last time before he straightened.

“Enjoy your trip, baby.” He strode out the door, leaving me there confused, vulnerable, and too furious with myself to process anything else.