Wild Card

by Elsie Silver

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.”

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.

I’m not the guy who strikes up conversations with strangers. Hell, I barely like striking up conversations with the few people in my life that I consider friends.

If you were a house, I would sage you.”

“Come on. Don’t quit on me now. I have a deep inner need to make you like me, and I feel like I’m getting close.”

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.

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

Man, you’re even more miserable than usual. Were all your good moods in the kidney that you gave away? Are you stuck with the bitchy kidney?”

“Gwen, I just want you to know that if I were you, I’d fuck my ex-boyfriend’s dad, and I wouldn’t even feel bad about it because that other guy sounds like a fucking loser.”

“You that fucking eager, Gwen?”

“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.”

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

“I did hear you. And I heard you whisper my name when you came too. So maybe if you wanted me to watch, you should have told me.”

She’s beautiful. More than that, the way she sees the world is beautiful. She’s good for me. Hell, she makes me laugh. Living in my head feels like a constant battle sometimes, but standing next to Gwen with my feet in the sand makes everything feel a little bit better.

“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.”

Maybe if things get awkward downstairs, I can try my hand at impersonating a fainting goat.

I love that big doofus like he’s my own, and to be frank, you’re feeling an awful lot like my second doofus.”

If you want to be Gwen Dawson, mother of raccoons, then I won’t stand in your way. I support you in that venture. You can be seen and heard in my house. And you are welcome to befriend overgrown rodents who may or may not carry diseases. I won’t judge you.”

What my girl wants, she gets.”

“My head’s been in the gutter since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

“Gwen, this is my job. It would be like me clapping when you roll out a yoga mat. Even though when I see that ass in leggings, it makes me want to.”

“Yes, what, Gwen? I’m going to need you to use your words. Because I’m about to snap and fuck you right here in this plane, but I need to know you want it first.”

“It’s about fucking time, Rousseau,”

“Lose the fucking jeans, Gwen,”

“Leave ’em. I can’t wait. I’ll pull them to the side.”

“I am really regretting this small space because I want to see you from every angle, Gwen.” “Then let’s do this thing so we can try again at home.”

“I love you like this.” “Like what?” she murmurs, entranced. “All mine.”

“Atta girl,”

“I’m fucking obsessed with you. Do you know that?”

“Fuck me…that was⁠—” “Just the beginning,” I finish for her before dropping a kiss to her back. “Dear universe, I forgive you,” she murmurs with a delirious giggle, and I can’t help but shake my head. Yeah, the universe messed with us. But it also gave us this. And we’re only getting started.

“Strikes me that the party just moved up here and no one else was invited.”

He’s been nervous cooking since he got up. This man is so obsessed with you, he doesn’t even know what to do with himself.”

“Gwen, how am I supposed to trust you to name our first child if you can’t even give this raccoon a respectable name?”

“Because what I keep coming back to is this: I can’t live without you.”

“Dude, go. I got this. You have zero game. If there’s a girl who actually likes you, you need to go find her.”

him. His head shakes and his gaze drinks me in. “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.”

“And I love you, and I hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell you.”

Gwen, I need you. Like my next breath. It’s… I can’t breathe without you. If you leave for Costa Rica, I’m coming with you. Where you go, I’ll follow. I don’t care where we are as long as we’re together.”

“You’re my limes, Bash. I’m the tequila. You and me? We’re gonna spend the rest of our lives making margaritas, okay?”

I breathe him in. I breathe my anxiety out. I breathe him in. I breathe my doubt out. I breathe him in. I breathe my fears out.