The Simple Wild (Wild, #1)

by K.A. Tucker

I’ve just kept on giving this man parts of me, not realizing that I was losing myself in the process.

But somewhere along the line, things have changed. The flowers don’t come every week anymore; the text responses sometimes take hours. And the kisses only come as a prelude to more.

That wanting someone to be something they’re not won’t make it happen.”

We get caught up in “what if” conversations all the time.

She sighs heavily. “Just don’t make the same mistake I did and fall in love with one of those pilots.” I chuckle. “I’ll try my best not to.”

“Fine. I know. But there’s something about those guys that work up there. I can’t explain it. I mean, they’re crazy, landing on glaciers and mountain ridges, flying through whiteouts. They’re like . . .” Her eyes search for words within my walls. “Sky cowboys.”

But I’m suitably distracted from wondering too much about any crude guy jokes, more focused on the plane that’s supposed to carry me through a mountain range and on the yeti who’s going to fly me there. How the hell did he even fit into that plane?

They can’t sense my loneliness, or the knot in my stomach. That’s the magic of social media, I guess. But there’s also an odd comfort to hiding behind the illusion.

“By being in his favorite place, high up in the sky, getting away from everything he’d lost down on the ground.”

I had a fish one time, though. For Christmas.” He frowns in thought. “You know, I think I remember that.” “His name was Guppy. He was . . . a guppy.”

I’m dead 🤣

“Not unless you count Tim and Sid.”

I don’t even know what rudders are. More importantly, “Where’s the barf bag?” “You won’t need it.” “My one experience flying with you says otherwise.” “You’re not gonna get sick.” “You can’t just will me not to. Where is it?” He shakes his head and sighs heavily. “Under your seat.”

“So, I was your first time?” Jonah murmurs mildly. “What?” “That’s what you just said. I was your first time.” It clicks and I roll my eyes, even as my cheeks flush. “Yes, and you were subpar. You should be embarrassed.”

“You look the same as yesterday, with all that crap on your face.” He reaches up to drag his fingers through his beard. “What’s wrong with this?” “Nothing, if you’re planning on living alone in the mountains and foraging for food. And not walking quite upright.” “So you’re saying you don’t like it.” There’s no mistaking the amusement in his voice. “Definitely not.” He shrugs. “A lot of women like it.” “No they don’t.” “It’s my style.” “No. Hipster is a style. Rockabilly is a style. Yeti is not a style.”

“That girl ran like I’ve never seen anyone run before,” my dad murmurs. “She wanted to make sure the ground finished me off.” I wanted to make sure you’re okay. Because I was worried. Because I care. “No. I figured you’d jump at the chance to ruin my favorite sweater,” I say instead.

Because you’re insane.

“I can’t give her what she wants. I’m not at that place in my life.”

“You asked why I kissed you.” I hazard a glance upward, to find his piercing blue eyes alight with heat. “And you said it’s because you wanted to.” “That wasn’t the right answer.” He reaches up to smooth the wet strands of clingy hair off my forehead, his gaze wild as it skitters across my features. “You have been driving me fucking insane for days and I couldn’t hold myself back for one more second.”

“Take them off,”

“I think I’ll clean this up a bit more for you.” My head, settled against his chest, shakes with his deep chuckle. “What am I, your doll?” I drag my fingers south, down the center of his chest ever so lightly, along the ridges of his stomach. I smile with delight when his muscles spasm. “More like my well-groomed action figure.”

I want Jonah to grow attached to me. To pine and hurt for me after I’m gone. To care that I’m not there. Because then I won’t be alone in it.

I want to do it on my own terms.”

I get it god i get it but fuck it still hurts like a bitch

I found him, and now I’m going to lose him all over again. This time, for good.

“Fine. I don’t care how you do it, so long as you’re in my bed tonight, and every other night that you’re in Alaska.” He sounds so resolute. “What if I’m here for the next six months?” His eyes drift to my mouth. “That’s kind of what I’m hoping for.” I have to tell myself to breathe. “Deal.” Because suddenly I can’t imagine myself anywhere else.

“What the hell did you feed me, Jonah?”

Do me a favor and, if you forgive him enough to go to his place tonight, can you wake me up when you sneak back in in the morning?”

“I am still sorry about the wallpaper. I didn’t know how much those ducks meant to you, but if it helps at all, it was all Jonah’s idea and I was drunk as a skunk.” And thus, the mystery of the duck nipples, solved.

I’ve spent the last twelve years dwelling on all the things Wren Fletcher isn’t. I should have had the guts to come and find out all the things he is.

“This is my last flight, kiddo,” he announces with grim certainty. He reaches over and takes my hand, and the smile on his face is oddly at peace. “And I can’t think of a better person to have spent it with.”

Mom takes one look at me and, with a hand over her mouth, begins to cry.

IM SOBBING

“I did warn you about falling in love with one of those sky cowboys, didn’t I?” “Yeah, you did.” I try to laugh it off. Until finally I relent to the onslaught of tears. Because I’m not going home with one giant hole in my heart. I’m going home with two.

I push aside my sorrowful thoughts and crawl over to rope my arms around his chest from behind. I press my body in a tight hug against him, reveling in the feel of him this one last time.

A deep, warm chuckle from our front porch fills the silence. My lungs stop working. There’s only one man who laughs like that. I dart up the stone path, ignoring my heels in the cracks, to find Jonah settled into one of the chairs, his legs splayed, his arms lying casually on the rests. As if it’s not cold out. “How do you know which one’s which?” he asks casually. “The white patch above Tim’s eyes is wider,” I mumble, still trying to process this. Jonah’s here. Jonah’s in Toronto.

“As long as I’m flying my planes and you’re with me, I’ll be happy. But this going-our-separate-ways bullshit? This isn’t working for me, Calla.”