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.

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.

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.

“At least then I wouldn’t have to spend all my free time with a guy who cries as he masturbates while thinking about his son’s ex-girlfriend.”

“Did you say ex-girlfriend?” Now the older man laughs and shakes his head, like I amuse him greatly. “Caught that, did ya? You little pervert.”

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

“Goddamn, you must be good with your hands.”

Eyes wide and pleading, she adds, “I mean, you must be handy.” “I’m both.”

“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.”

“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.”

She’s fucking breathtaking. And the fact that she didn’t roll out of my bed is downright criminal.

“I wish Bash were in love with me. Then maybe he’d make me nice breakfasts too.”

“Sorry, concentrating is hard right now. Have you heard of competence porn? It’s kind of my thing. And you, Bash, are extremely competent.”

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

haven’t asked you if you’ve done this before,” Bash says through the headset as the plane rolls along. I can hear him clearly over the loud engines. “No, Bash. You’re my first, so be gentle with me,” I reply with a smile. A smile that only grows bigger when I hear him grumble “For fuck’s sake” in my ears.

“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.

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

Now he’s out there getting all wild. Bare feet, shirt buttons undone one too far…” I smile and nod along with Clyde’s assessment until I realize that, without his corduroy jacket, the skin on Bash’s chest and neck is far more visible than I realized. Clyde continues like a steam engine down the tracks. “A beer in his hand, big old hickey on his neck.”

“The only thing I’ve been able to think about is that I don’t want him so much as looking at what’s mine.” His voice drops to a growl. “It’s driving me fucking crazy, knowing he’s had you.”

I reach forward, cupping a hand over her mouth. “Gwen, baby, I need you to be quiet. You can scream for me later. But right now, I need you to shut your mouth and take this cock like the good girl I know you can be.”

“No, but I wanted to.”

“Admiring you.” His words come out quiet, raspy, heartachingly tender. “You looked so fucking pretty. Sleeping in my bed, all these delicious curves on display. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Check on me or parade around in that slutty little outfit?”

He sobers for a beat. “I’m never going to get enough. I can promise you that much. I’ll always be coming back to you.”

the man I love and also want to punch some sense into.

“All right.” Doris’s voice fills the bar. “The question was: What is the driest place on earth? The answer is the Atacama Desert—Team Four, you got it right. But I would like to give an honorable mention to Tabitha Garrison for submitting Terence’s bed as the answer for Team Two.”

But then, like a hammer shattering a mirror, his raspy voice breaks the calm. “Everything from my Maya is in that house.”

The second he sees my truck, he goes from pacing on the spot to gunning for me.

But, of course, Tripp has to offset that by adding, “Gwen, I’m never calling you Mom, though.”