Wild Card

by Elsie Silver

Must be fucking nice because I’m ready to crawl right out of my skin. People sneezing without covering their faces, babies crying, the smell of stale bagels. I’ve walked laps like a tiger pacing his cage, and even that isn’t taking the edge off anymore.

“Yeah, canceled.” That too-happy voice floats through the air toward me. “It’s okay. It is what it is. I’m going to make the most of it! When life gives you lemons…” It squeezes the acid right in your fucking eyes.

“Yeah, it’s like when life gives you lemons, don’t be an asshole to the service staff. Or something like that.”

Her head tilts, the overhead lights highlighting the apples of her cheeks. “No bag. No phone. And you are giving off some serious stay-the-fuck-away energy.” I quirk a disbelieving brow at the woman. “Stay-the-fuck-away energy?” She hits me with a conspiratorial smile. “Yes. If you were a house, I would sage you.” Ah, more granola, woo-woo, make-lemonade, salt-of-the-earth shit. Exactly what I’m in the mood for.

Tripp leans close and drops another casual kiss on my hair with a light chuckle. “Easy, girl. Don’t eat too much.” Easy, girl? I pause, my brows furrowing as I stare down at the two bite-size pieces of food on the napkin in my hand, wondering if I misheard my “boyfriend.” Did he really just tell me not to eat too much? “The fuck did you just say to her?” Bash’s voice is cold as ice from across the table.

“Careful what you wish for, Gwen. I’ve got a laundry list of ways I’d like to watch you work for it, and none of them involve poker.”

🙊

She sucks in a breath, like her rant is over. But then she hits me with a killing blow. “I’ve already lived in the type of household where it was preferable for me to be seen but not heard, and I’m not signing up for that again. So get your shit together and let me have a moment to myself. Maybe you should go take one for yourself too. The sand is that way.” She points down at the water. “Go get grounded.”

She tilts her head and purses her lips, assessing me. Her eyes trail over my body in a way that makes my skin hum. “Your throat chakra is fucked because you can’t, for the life of you, say out loud what’s in your head. Never mind your heart chakra—you definitely won’t acknowledge anything going on in there. But based on your current behavior, I’m going to go say that one is positively brimming with jealousy.”

“Fuck it,” I mutter. Then I kiss her.

Gwen: Oh, fuck off. You’re being a petty little bitch. Just admit it.