Even Wilder

by Bria Leigh

  She leaned close so she could read for herself. “At least he’s sincere.”

  I set my phone back down and picked up my cards. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Kat set her cards down and stood up. “Guys, we’ll be right back.”

  Crystal gave a thumbs up, and Monica smiled. And they quickly went back to talking about makeup tutorials they watched on YouTube. Crystal was a tiny Asian girl with a love for Instagram and the latest fashion. And Monica was very similar to Kat besides the blonde hair and small tits. She wore black boots with short skirts and even had a septum piercing. The three of them together made sense.

  Kat took me into her room and sat down on her bed. She patted the spot next to her, and I sat down, making myself at home amongst her squishy pillows shaped like unicorns and cats and her polka dot comforter.

  “There’s a lot of parts to this mess,” she started. “First, let’s discuss the sex.”

  There was no sex. But I got where Kat was going. “I’m not that upset about the blow job. I’m more upset with his attitude right after. He was so quick to tell me to get lost. It makes me feel like none of it mattered to him. Like I was just another girl.”

  Kat rubbed the spot between her eyebrows. “That’s not the case. I can tell Wilder is into you. So, let’s chalk that up to the situation. He was stressed, and he lashed out at you. Guys do that. They shut down when things get hard. Even when their dicks get hard.”

  “He shut down for sure,” I agreed.

  “You sucking his dick was the best thing that ever happened to him. And I promise you he will never forget it.”

  So, sex wasn’t the issue. That wasn’t bothering me anymore. What Kat said made sense. I could accept he was lashing out at the world.

  “Now, for the hard one.” She blew air through her red lips. “Your stepfather and what he said about what happened.”

  I nodded. It never got more comfortable to talk about it with anyone.

  “It was fucked up. Wilder is an asshole for saying shit like that to you. But he knows he was wrong, and he did say sorry.”

  “I know. It just wasn’t anything I ever imagined him bringing up like that.” It was cruel and heartless things that Wilder never was.

  She touched my hand. “If you forgive him then tell him. Don’t let this be the end of the two of you. I only have seen you guys together one time, and I know you both love each other.”

  I looked away. That was so hard to admit out loud to other people. “What would you say?”

  Kat dropped back on her bed, her hands resting on her stomach, and she studied the ceiling. “I’d say if you’re sorry, you should come prove it.”

  I laughed and dropped down on the bed beside her. Her ceilings had little glow in the dark stars on it. I imagined every night before she fell asleep, she probably wished on them.

  “And what if he does? Then what?”

  She grabbed my hand, and lifted it. “Then you guys have some hot make up sex.”

  My cheeks were on fire just talking about it. Kat was a professional sex expert. She oozed sex and confidence. She was the kind of girl who took what she wanted. She didn’t walk by a table of guys and drop her gaze like I did. She looked at them all dead in the eye and gave them her demure little pout.

  “Okay. Okay. I’ll do it.” I ran and got my phone off the table and came back in diving on her bed.

  If you’re really sorry you should come prove it.

  I hit send and covered my face with one of her pillows. “Oh my god. This is going to be so bad.”

  She slapped me on the ass. “Or so very good.”

  Wilder

  I COULDN’T STAND IT any longer. I walked back into the living room and picked up my phone. I had a text. Relief flooded my body. And then anxiety because I was afraid to read what she said.

  I opened her text.

  If I was sorry, I should prove it. I walked across the room, a big ass grin on my face. Violet wasn’t mad. She was flirting with me. This was different.

  I could prove it — any way she wanted me to.

  My smile turned into a frown when I saw Bing’s shoes by the door. I couldn’t just take off hours away from home. I couldn’t bring my twelve-year-old brother either.

  I texted Lorna and asked her if she would keep Bing for a couple of days while I went to see Violet. She assured me she would love to and told me how glad she was to see me putting in the effort to fix things.

  I packed up a duffel bag and set it by the door. I was going to leave first thing in the morning.

  “ALRIGHT, KID. I’LL see you in three days.” I told Bing, loading my bag in the trunk of my car.

  “Alright.” Bing stood next to Lorna, happy that I was leaving to see Violet. It still didn’t make me feel better about taking off and leaving him. But he said he would be fine.

  “Have a good time. And tell my daughter I love her,” Lorna said, giving me a wave.

  I walked over and pulled them in for a hug. “Thank you, guys. I love you both.”

  I let them go, and the old house caught my eye. The first time I saw Violet was on that porch. I was playing with my cars, driving them off the porch, and watching them fall down the steps when she came up.

  She was beautiful, full of light — a big smile on her face. I pretended I didn’t notice her and whipped another car down the stairs, and I’ll never forget the sound of her laugh—it made me laugh.

  I wanted to know everything about her.

  I used the road trip to clear my mind. Making things right with Violet was my chance to be the person I knew I wanted to be, to do things right for Violet and me.

  I left all the negative shit I had done lately behind, and I focused on what was waiting for me in the big city.

  I played all of Violet’s favorite songs and spent the ride singing at the top of my lungs like a lunatic. I was nervous, scared even. I white-knuckled the steering wheel trying to forget about the fear and focus on the outcome. I was going to win back Violet’s friendship and maybe even more.

  When I pulled up to her apartment, I let out a huge sigh and checked myself in the mirror. A couple of girls were sitting out on the picnic tables studying. When I headed up the sidewalk to the doors of the apartment, they stopped what they were doing and smiled at me.

  “Welcome back,” the blonde one said, her smile getting even bigger.

  They knew who I was. And that wasn’t a good thing seeing I left after smashing my fist into Mac’s face.

  “Thanks. Glad to be back.” I gave them a wink and went inside the apartment. I took the stairs two at a time on edge. I needed to get the surprise over with as soon as possible.

  When I made it to her door, I knocked right away, readying myself for the moment when I laid eyes on her again.

  The door opened. But it wasn’t Violet. It was Kat.

  “She’s not here. She’s in class.”

  “Fuck.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I didn’t think she had any classes today.”

  Kat shook her head. “No. You’re not understanding me. She went to an art class.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me into the apartment.

  “What am I supposed to understand?” Was she telling me she was busy fucking Mac when I came to see her?

  A pretty little Asian and a blonde sat on the couch, staring at me. Apparently, Kat had company.

  “We are meeting her there. And we have the perfect way for you to surprise her,” Kat explained, hands clasped in front of her chest. They all nodded in agreement.

  The blonde one stood up and handed me a little gift bag. “You will need this.”

  I took it totally confused and peeked inside. “I don’t get it.”

  Little tiny Asian stood up and looked me over. “Oh, you will.”

  “Let’s go. You can ride with us,” Kat said, grabbing her keys. “This is going to be the best.”

  They all giggled, knowing their little secret. And it didn’t seem like any of them were willing to fill me in on it.


  “I’m Crystal,” the tiny Asian one said. “And she’s Monica.”

  “Nice to meet you guys.” They shoved me in Kat’s little SUV and giggled all the way to the art class.

  I BALANCED THE SKETCHBOOK Kat bought me on my leg, looking around for Kat, Monica, and Crystal. She said they were going to meet me. It was the only reason I even agreed to go.

  Sitting by myself in a little art studio, off-campus, was not the way I planned on spending my night. I wasn’t artsy. I didn’t know how to draw. But I wanted to venture away from what was normal and give something new a try.

  Wilder never replied to my text. I guess he didn’t want to prove anything. At least I had Kat and her friends.

  I was going to have to accept that our friendship wasn’t going to make it. Just like everything else, anything that meant something to me always came to an end. All the good things anyways. The bad parts stuck around in my dreams and my memories.

  Kat came through the door first. Then Crystal and Monica. I gave a wave, so they could find me, and they all took spots next to me.

  “Sorry we’re late. There was a lot of ...traffic.” She adjusted her leather skirt and pulled her sketchbook out of her backpack. Monica and Crystal did the same.

  “It’s okay. So, what exactly are we doing?” I knew it was an art class. Maybe the kind like back at home where a bunch of friends got together and painted some birds on a wire and took a bunch of pictures for Instagram. I wasn’t sure.

  It was a big crowd. All sorts of college kids eagerly waiting for whatever was about to happen.

  An older woman in a black flowy dress came out and walked a stool into the middle of the room. She had beautiful silver hair swept up in a twisted braid. Pearl earrings hung from her ears, and her fingernails were a dark sultry shade of red.

  “Evening everyone. Welcome.” She looked around the room at all of us. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

  I looked at Kat. She was grinning. So were Crystal and Monica.

  Everyone opened their sketchbooks and prepared themselves: a few dry coughs, and a little chatter here and there as we all waited. I fumbled with mine getting it open.

  A girl next to me gasped. And the guy in front of me elbowed his buddy. I secured my page and my pencil and looked up gasping.

  “Holy shit,” I said a little too loud. Wilder was on stage in a small white robe. And when he saw me, he grinned, pulling the belt and freeing himself. He handed the robe to the teacher, and she gestured to the stool.

  Kat grabbed my arm. “Surprise.”

  Surprise was right. I was not expecting to see my best friend, naked or anywhere near my school. I was staring at Wilder’s dick. All of him on display for me and the entire room to see. Every beautiful part of him. And it all was impressive. Smooth and muscular. All the things I imagined it would be.

  “Alright. Start working.” She brought her hands behind her back and started walking around the room. Wilder stayed still, eyes on mine every time I looked back up.

  One leg on the rung of the stool, the other resting on the floor.

  I touched my face, biting my lip. Drawing Wilder was a lot harder than I imagined.

  “Beautiful...good work,” the teacher said to the girl next to me.

  She stopped at mine. “Oh, honey. It’s a lot bigger than that.” She moved on to Kat, and I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. I mouthed sorry and started erasing my attempt at his penis.

  “A little less focus on the penis and more on the other parts of him,” she said to Kat.

  “How can I not? It’s right there,” Kat giggled. “Oh, man. If only every class in college was this delicious.”

  “This is insane.” I dropped my gaze back to the paper, a million butterflies in my stomach at the thought of Wilder sitting up there naked.

  I was going to have to talk to him after this. How would I talk to him after this?

  Forty-five minutes finally ended, and she handed Wilder back his robe. He put it on, and students thanked him on the way out. Some even showing him their work. Wilder was nice, he shook hands and complimented anyone who approached him.

  “Go get him,” Kat whispered in my ear as they packed up their things. “I will see you later.” She hugged me, and Monica and Crystal followed her out.

  There were only a couple of people left. The teacher was already cleaning up. I walked over to him and smiled when it was finally my chance to speak to him.

  “I can’t believe you’re here first of all,” I said. “And I can’t believe you got naked.”

  He took my sketchbook out of my hands and opened it. “Wow. You’re really bad at drawing.”

  I rolled my eyes. And he gave me a quick hug with one arm, admiring my terrible attempt at drawing him.

  “You know I suck at drawing.”

  “I know.” He jerked his head to the back room. “Come on.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I can’t go back there with you.”

  The teacher walked by with a stack of chairs. “Honey, this is college. You can do whatever you like. I’m not going to tell anyone.” She winked at the two of us.

  “Come on,” Wilder said, grabbing my hand. I let him lead me into the back room. Metal cabinets lined one wall. The other was full of paint and supplies for classes on shelves, a little counter with a sink, and a big braided rug with a big beanbag on it in the center.

  “Lock up when you two are done,” she called out. “Enjoy your night.”

  This was really happening.

  He laid down on the giant beanbag. And when I say giant, I mean giant if it could house the likes of Wilder. He was six foot four on a bad day. Even taller on his good days.

  I sat my sketchbook on the counter and crawled across the beanbag to him. He was still in his little white robe, and I was aware of how close I was to his naked body.

  I got lost in his green eyes, telling him everything with one look. We connected like that. I didn’t have to speak for Wilder to understand how I felt.

  “I never meant to hurt you,” his warm breath smelled like the minty gum he was always chewing, he lowered his face to mine. “And I hope you forgive me. Because I don’t think I can ever make you understand how sorry I am. I’m so sorry, Vi.”

  I slanted my mouth to his, I believed him. And he tugged me to him. He deepened the kiss sliding his tongue between my lips. Our tongues dancing with each other. He kissed me like a man in danger of losing it all.

  His hand slid underneath my sweater, he cupped one of my breasts and squeezed my nipple. I moaned against his mouth. Hearing such a noise escape me, he tugged up my shirt, his mouth on my nipple. He swirled his tongue over it.

  I moaned some more, goosebumps crawling across my skin at his touch. Everything he was doing felt so good, and we had just begun.

  Wilder helped me out of my jeans. I shook my legs free, kicking them off the bean bag onto the rug. I tugged the belt on his robe and helped him out of it. I didn’t want to draw his dick anymore. I wanted it inside of me. I wanted to know what it felt like. And judging by the smile on his face, I think he knew just how bad I wanted him.

  His hands slid up my body, grazing the front of my underwear, and he took them off. He added those to the pile.

  I touched his face, admiring how handsome he was. How perfect he looked in the soft moonlight coming through the window.

  “What?” he murmured.

  “Nothing. You’re just perfect. I don’t want to forget this.” I pursed my lips. “This is perfect.”

  He swallowed, taking me in too. “You’re perfect. I’m never going to forget this. I’ve wanted this for a long time, Vi. You and me.”

  We said what we needed to say. This was it. Our moment. The inevitable moment. Everything brought us right where we were.

  Wilder was everything I wanted. He had a beautiful mind, a perfect heart. And a perfect body. I ran my fingers across his chest, enjoying his skin and the way it felt against my fingers. His heart was beating so fast in his
chest.

  My hand went lower. I wrapped my fingers around the length of him.

  “I love you, Vi,” he promised. “Always have. I’m in love with you. Totally, completely, fucking in love with you.”

  “Good because I’m in love with you too. Wild, crazy, insane love with you.”

  “And I’m sorry for hurting you,” he said, fighting with the words. They were hard words to keep admitting.

  He didn’t need to keep admitting it. I forgave him. I didn’t hold it against him. Because I knew his heart and I could see it in his eyes. He never wanted to hurt me. The pain in his eyes, I only wanted to take away.

  “I know you’re sorry. We don’t have to talk about it anymore.” I touched his lips, and he pressed kisses against my fingertips making me smile.

  “Okay.” He pushed into me carefully. And he kissed my lips, my cheeks, my neck. He pressed two kisses against my forehead.

  I gripped his shoulders, and he continued to ease himself in slowly. I relaxed my grip on his shoulders, and he began making love to me — hot, sweet, beautiful love. We moved together so perfect. Wilder moved in and out of me at a glorious pace giving me what I wanted, what he wanted. He connected with more than just my body. He was giving himself to me and only me. I was his. And he was letting me know that.

  My thighs shook around his waist.

  His hands tangled in my hair. He kissed me hard, stopping the moans escaping my lips. I didn’t know a lot about sex. But this felt good. Sex with Wilder wasn’t awkward or awful.

  “Your arm is pulling my hair,” I said, and we both laughed. He helped me free my hair from beneath his forearm and kept right on moving.

  “Some people like hair pulling,” he smirked, kissing me on the nose.

  We slid off the beanbag, half on the floor, and we kept right on going. Even when Wilder got a leg cramp, we kept going even when we both were sweaty and breathless.

  Wilder was here with me. I couldn’t believe it. And finally, after all this time, we were having sex and admitting our feelings. Doing all the things I only daydreamed about for most of my life. It was happening.