Wild Card

by Elsie Silver

For the ones who were told their dreams were too dreamy but who went on to make them come true anyway. And for my awful high school English teacher, Mr. C, who looked me in the eye at sixteen years old and told me I’d never be a good writer. Thanks for the motivation.

When life gives you lemons…” It squeezes the acid right in your fucking eyes.

And that voice? It’s the furthest thing from girlish. That voice is all grown-up. It’s not giddy or overly bright. It’s all honey and spice, smooth with a hint of heat—borderline sensual without even trying.

“Oh, tonight? Tonight is just our meet-cute. It’s the night we’ll tell our kids about one day. Remember?”

This is me. I still want to be silly sometimes. I love to explore. I like to look at the glass as half-full. Hell, I will happily make lemonade.

I tell myself it’s just goodbye for now and not forever. Because the world works in mysterious ways, and it would never squander a meet-cute like ours.

To the outside observer, it would appear that I’m staring at the guy I showed up here with. But they would be wrong. I’m staring at his dad.

“The fuck did you just say to her?” Bash’s voice is cold as ice from across the table.

I promised I would, and if there’s one thing I am, it’s loyal.

All I know is that the first thing that comes to mind is, If I live, I’m coming after you.

“The thing is, Gwen, next time you want to watch me, you should just ask.”

“Or what? You might man up and take something for yourself for once?” I snap. I take something for myself for once. My hands dart out and grip Gwen’s waist. “You know what?” I snarl, yanking her toward me, staring at her plush mouth as her lips softly part—no doubt to say something infuriating. But I don’t let her get a word in edgewise. “Fuck it,” I mutter. Then I kiss her.

“That he was a fool to let you get away. But that it was just as well because I could fuck you better.”

Rose Hill isn’t just beautiful—it’s majestic. “Wow,” I sigh. Because no other word seems to do this view justice. “This is beautiful.” “Yeah. It is,” Bash agrees. But when I turn back to face him, he’s not looking out the window. He’s looking at me.

Soon, all I can hear is her breathing, and it makes me realize I’m not breathing at all. After all the time I’ve spent dreaming of this moment, I need someone to pinch me so I know it’s real.

I grin. “In that uniform? You’re a filthy tease, Rousseau. I hope you know that.” “Sorry, I’ve been called out to a bushfire. I don’t think I’ll be gone too long, but I wanted to come check on you before I left.” “Check on me or parade around in that slutty little outfit?” He smirks and my panties disintegrate.

“You’re a fucking wild card. Unpredictable and never what I expect. You scare the hell out of me every damn day. But today more than any of them. Because I thought I lost you.” His voice cracks. So does my heart. “And I love you, and I hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell you.”