Page 37 of Wild Rivals

WYATT

I’m sitting in my truck outside Maddie’s house, the engine running as the air conditioning blasts into the confined space of the cab. There’s a couple of lights on upstairs, and I wonder for a minute if she’s with him. The guy from the diner. I don’t even remember what she said he was called; all I could focus on was the heat flowing through my body and the pressure on my chest as I watched her sit across from him. Laugh with him.

I haven’t been able to get rid of that feeling all night. What’s worse is I left before getting my food, afraid that I’d do something stupid like drag him out of the booth and fight him.

Fuck. I don’t know what she’s done to me, but it needs to stop.

When I saw her with him, something flipped inside me. Something hot and sharp until it was impossible to ignore. It’s the only reason I approached them and why I’m sitting outside her place.

Before I can stop myself, I reach for the door handle, pulling on it as I switch off the engine. Any worry I had about intruding on her personal space is gone, replaced with the desire to know if everything I’ve been feeling is one-sided. Has she had sleepless nights too? Is she plagued by flashbacks, and walking around constantly turned on by them?

I don’t have a plan, or any idea of what I’ll say, but it doesn’t matter as I step out into the humid summer evening heat.

Gravel crunches under my feet as I cross the driveway. I’ve never been to Maddie’s before, but from the outside, her home looks just how I expected it to. Flowers fill the front yard, and there’s a porch wrapped around the white western farmhouse. Its pale blue shutters add a pop of color that I can imagine would look fresh and inviting on a summer day.

Before I know it, I’m knocking on the front door with nothing but a burning desire for answers.

It feels like an eternity before Maddie opens up. Her hair is down and looks like she’s been running her fingers through it in frustration. There’s a tugging ache in my chest that makes my brows draw together.

I dismiss the overwhelming urge to pull her into me and ask if she’s okay. Instead, I focus my attention on her body, allowing my gaze to travel the length, taking in the oversized T-shirt that falls around mid-thigh and the bare expanse of her toned, golden legs. The blush in her cheeks reminds me of how she looked when she ran out of my house. It’s enough to remind me why I’m currently standing on her doorstep; she fucked me when she had someone else.

“Is he here?” I growl, looking behind her as my anger grows.

I’m pissed that she used me. I’m normally the one tossing women aside once I’ve had my fill, or running out of their beds because they want more. Maddie has thrown me through a loop, that’s all. She’s making me feel things I’ve never felt.

She pulls the door closer to herself, blocking my view and forcing me to look at her. “Are you jealous?” she asks, almost incredulous at the idea that I could be.

I’m not jealous. Hell, the word isn’t even in my vocabulary.

Ignoring her question, I puff out my chest and demand, “Is he here?”

She folds her arms, and my eyes drop to the cleavage on show in the V-neck of her T-shirt before I force them back to her face. “I thought we covered how what I do and who I do it with is none of your business?” She juts her hip, looking at me expectantly.

“It is my business; when you fucked me a matter of days ago, you made it my goddamn business,” I snap.

Blinking as if she doesn’t quite understand how I’ve reached that conclusion, she asks, “Do you follow up with every woman you sleep with to check who she sees next? Do you vet them, and if you don’t deem him worthy, demand that she stops seeing him? Because the last time I checked, that isn’t what you’re known for.”

“Stop trying to be smart.” The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as my skin prickles under her assessing gaze. I feel like I’m losing control.

“I’m just trying to understand how it is your business. We had sex,” she whispers, as if the other guy might be listening in. “And we agreed it was a mistake. One that won’t be happening again.”

“No.” I take a step closer, keeping my voice low. “You asked me not to tell anyone; we never agreed it wouldn’t happen again.”

Maddie rips her gaze away from mine, a hint of something I can’t quite name filling her features. “Well, if that’s why you’re here, let me spell it out for you. It won’t be happening again. Ever.” She lifts her chin, standing taller as if she’s bracing herself for war.

“Mad, is he here?” My tone is soft, the kind I’d use on a scared animal to get it to trust me. Desperation makes a man do funny things.

She narrows her eyes, and I see the moment something clicks into place. “Oh my God.” She covers her mouth with her hand, her eyes widening just a fraction with her surprise. “You are jealous. The great Wyatt Wilde is jealous of me having dinner with another man. I never thought I’d live to see the day,” she mocks.

I huff out a breath, turning away from her as I run an agitated hand through my hair before facing her again. “Will you put me out of my misery if I say yes? Would that make you feel better to know that you’ve got me all twisted up inside?”

She tilts her head, giving my questions serious consideration. Taking her sweet time, she finally nods. “Yes, I think it will.”

The word spills from my lips far too quickly and I silently curse myself for being so weak. “Yes,” I rasp.

What the fuck has she done to me?

“Yes, what?” she asks, fluttering her lashes at me.