Page 29 of Wilde About You

"Yep, that's what I meant about bad timing. Maybe Gary and Eric will move in with you. You've got three rooms, and they got kicked out of their rental."

"Yeah, because they're dicks. I don't want to live with those idiots. I'll just have to give up this place."

Ronan finally pushed off the doorway and sat on the edge of the bed. "Where will you go? And don't fucking say Dad's house. Then I'll feel guilty for leaving you."

"Might not have any choice for now. Besides, I'm better than you at ignoring him when he's being an asshole."

"Well that sucks. How'd you lose the sponsor? Seems kind of unfair that they didn't stick with you because of an injury."

"It wasn't the injury. It was Ace. He told them only one of us could wear their logo and guess what—they didn't pick the guy with the bad knee."

"What? No way. What an asshole. Does that have to do with his sister?"

"Yep, they hardly talk, and she can't stand him, but he's pulling the 'don't-you-dare date-my-sister crap.'"

"Why the hell not?"

"Because I'm a Wilde, and, apparently, that is taboo in his book."

"What a dick. And you two guys were best buds for years. Guess you know now that you've only got one real best bud." He pointed to himself.

"You mean the best bud who is now abandoning me in my time of need?"

Ronan dropped his head down. "That's harsh, bro."

I kicked him lightly on the back. "I'm happy for you, Ro. Rachel is the best. She's perfect for you. Almost thought I'd found my match, too, for a second, but like everything else this year—it's not in the cards. What a shit year I'm having."

Ronan laughed. "It's almost like my life turned around, so yours flipped upside down. We're like the yin and yang thing. Not that I know what that is, but sorry dude, I think I swept up your mojo. Not giving it back anytime soon though, so soldier on. You'll meet another hottie. They follow you around all season on the slopes. And in the meantime, have fun with the old man. I can stay for another month if you want."

"Nah, I'm sick of this place anyhow. Lease is up at the end of the month. I was about to renew it. Now I'm glad I didn't bother. Guess I'll go see Dad and see how he feels about a roommate."

"Damn, bro, what a shit deal."

"Yep. Like you said, you stole all my mojo. You can slide that back over whenever you want."

Zander was walking out of the barn with a full wheelbarrow. "Just in time, Colin, grab a mucking fork."

"Just need to talk to Dad first."

Zander tilted his head toward the barn. "He's inside, sitting on a bale of straw listing everything I'm doing wrong. I'd like to pass that fun on to you now cuz I'm ready to send the old man right out through the hayloft window."

"Like to see you try." I caught Zander flinching when he realized Dad had heard him. Old habits. It was hot outside, but Dad was wearing one of his flannel shirts. But to break the image of an old man layered to keep out the chill, he had his sleeves rolled up, revealing his thick forearms and the mass of tattoos he'd gathered through the years. He looked older and dressed warmer, and his heart was on the verge of giving out, but he was still the formidable Finnegan Wilde in all our eyes.

"Hey look, Dad, you've got another son to annoy," Zander said. "I'm going in. I'm hungry. Colin, finish mucking, would ya? Don't know why all of this always falls on to me to do."

"Uh, because you were given a free house on the ranch," I said. Zander and Nev lived in the old cabin. That was what we called the cabin where Dad first lived on the ranch. His dad built it and the place was cool but small. We'd lived there until the new cabin, a much bigger and nicer home, was finished. Ronan and I were still babies at the time. No one knew exactly how Dad funded the building of such a nice cabin, but with Dad it was always better not to ask. The big house and massive acreage made our chaotic and unstable childhood more than bearable. We had horses and dirt bikes and tractors, and there was even a swimming pond with a tire swing and pier. The ranch was an easy place to hide when Dad was in a bad mood or something shady was up with his business. He also never thought twice about kicking us all out with our sleeping bags if he was busy entertaining a woman inside. And that happened a lot.

"How's the knee?" Dad asked. "When are you able to get back on the slopes?"

"Maybe never." I picked up the mucking rake and glanced in a few stalls to find one that hadn't been cleaned yet.

Dad pushed over an empty wheelbarrow and leaned his forearms on top of the stall door while I cleaned. "Bullshit. The doctors don't know what the hell they're talking about. You'll know when you're ready."

"My knee is fine as long as I don't stand too long on it or run or jump or you know do anything other than walking slowly."

"I'll bet it hasn't slowed you down in the sack. I once fucked a woman for three days straight with a broken vertebrae in my back."

I looked up from the stall floor. "Please shut up about you and your animal years. Not interested."