Wild Card

by Elsie Silver

Because Gwen isn’t just hot as fuck. She’s kind. And fun. And thoughtful. And flexible.

“Almost as impressive as the depth of my daddy issues and the uniform kink my upbringing sent me out into the world with.”

“Goddamn, you must be good with your hands.” We freeze in time, and I watch pink splotches pop up on her round cheeks as she slowly turns her head in my direction. Fuck, she’s so pretty, I can’t even stand it. Eyes wide and pleading, she adds, “I mean, you must be handy.” “I’m both.”

“What I was about to say is that Bash isn’t nice—he’s kind. The two are not the same.”

“Well, I think being nice has more to do with behaving in a way that’s driven by social expectations. Whereas being kind is behaving in a way that’s driven by a concern for other people’s well-being. And the two are not necessarily mutually exclusive. I’d be rather wary of someone who is nice but not kind.”

“So it’s like how he’s being generally not nice to you in an attempt to be kind to his son?”

“You’re confusing, you know that?”

“And kind of exhausting,”

“I know” is all he s...

“When I built this place, I thought I’d have kids.”

“The room you’re staying in was supposed to be the perfect kid’s room. The bench. The window. I figured by a certain age, they’d want to use the balcony too. But then I worried that when they were small, it might be a safety issue. So I put a dead bolt on the outside so my wife or I could⁠—”

“Oh, quit constantly flattering yourself. That statement doesn’t need to mean more than it does.” I swear I see a dimple flash in his cheek, so I forge ahead. “I just meant that I’m not put off by all your snarling.”

“The really hilarious update is that I ran into her when I left Tripp’s birthday party all those months ago. I was waiting around at the airport, hoping to get onto a flight, and bam there she was. Remarried. With a toddler. And very, very pregnant. So now I know it wasn’t that she didn’t want a family. She just didn’t want it with me. And all I’ve done is spend years licking my wounds, wishing for something I’ll never have. Too scared to even try.”

“Turns out it’s not that easy to find a person you actually connect with.”

We connected. We had that spark. The one you can’t force. The kind that sneaks up on you when you least expect it. And the worst part is, we both know it.

“Gwen. I can’t fuck it all up. I can’t cross that line, no matter how tempted I am.”

A familiar feeling stirs inside me. The one where I’m in the way or not good enough—a burden. I know it’s not true. I know that’s not what he meant. But I feel the sting of it all the same.

The entire mess feels monumentally unfair. Because I like Bash. I really like Bash. Unfortunately for me, I like Bash enough to keep my distance.

Were all your good moods in the kidney that you gave away? Are you stuck with the bitchy kidney?”

“Bash, old boy, you’ve got a crush,” West announces eagerly, making me wince.

“Plus, she dated Tripp. That’s a line you just don’t cross. Even if I saw her first.”

If I had known. I ended it on the spot. I tried to find you.

“See that? Falling all over himself to protect her honor.”

“That’s actually⁠—” “Kind of romantic?” West guesses with amusement twinkling in his eyes. “No.” Ford shrugs. “Sad.” Fucking Ford. Direct to a fault sometimes. “Thanks, I’m really fine, though,” I reply grimly.

“You know, as someone who grew up without a dad, I don’t think this would bother me.”

“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.”

Me as fuck

I take her in. Teeth pushed down onto her pillowy bottom lip as she gazes down at her two new cards. A loose, cropped sweatshirt draped off one shoulder. Tight fucking yoga pants that show off every goddamn curve. Fuzzy socks with little raccoon faces all over them. I’ve dreamed of this. Her. Having her here.

She makes me fucking insane. That’s the only reason I could possibly be sitting here playing strip poker with the one woman in the world I shouldn’t want.

“Gwen, are you a fucking card shark? Did you play me?”

“Me? I would never. But also, playing poker is the only way I could get my dad to pay attention to me. So I got rather good at it.”

“You that fucking eager, Gwen?” I taunt. “Yeah. I am,” she breathes.

“I can’t decide if I want to keep winning or lose a few hands just to watch you work for it.”

“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.”

“God. I really should not want you this badly,”

“Oh, I tried to play strip poker with him. But I took my socks off and he got a massive boner, then acted all weird. Ran off to bed.”

His body seizes, going still for a beat before he lifts his discarded T-shirt, fucks his hand a few more times, and blows while moaning my name. “Gwen.”

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

“Pardon me?” “You heard me.”

“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.”

I keep my face impassive, disguising my shock over his presence as I search for words that aren’t your timing is shit.

All I can think about is…how good they’d be together. Not as good as she and I would be.

“You know what? It’s fine. Feed all the raccoons you want if it makes your energy flow or whatever, but if they come around and make a mess, you’ll clean it up.” “Oh, cute. Mocking my beliefs and career. Very original. No one has ever made that joke before,”

“Thanks, Daddy Buzzkill. You just chased him off for no good reason.”

“Yes. Just to be a dick, no doubt.”

“Just to be a dick?”

“Bash, whatever we’re doing, it’s not yoga. I don’t owe you anything. And if you thought being in touch with my mind and body means I have to be a soft-spoken pushover just to accommodate your shit moods, then you thought wrong.”

“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.”

“I think I’ve made myself pretty clear. I told you what I’d have chosen, and you told me to back off.”

“So now you’ll just mope around feeling sorry for yourself because the timing is all fucked up and you feel like you owe him something you don’t.”

“Or what? You might man up and take something for yourself for once?”