He pulled away from her. "Don't hold your breath."
With a shake of her head, she yanked on the sliding glass door, knowing it would be unlocked. Stupid, trusting Becks. As soon as she stepped inside, she went to the light switch on the wall, flashing the light a few times before leaving it on and moving toward the next.
"Don't attack," she said as she flashed the kitchen lights next. "Becks," she imitated Darth Vader. "I am your sister. Do not attack." She went from switch to switch, flashing every light as Luke and Logan watched her with dumbfounded looks.
When she got to the living room and flashed on the overhead light, she found Becks and Nicky sitting on the couch, staring at her.
"Uh, Wylds." Nicky stood. "What are you doing?"
Now she felt like the world’s biggest idiot. Her cheeks flamed. "Making sure I don't get assaulted again."
"You texted us that you were coming." Becks grinned as he stood and crossed the room to her, pulling her into one of his world-saving hugs. "We've been sitting here waiting for you."
When she pulled back, she saw Logan trying not to laugh. Luke stood next to him looking anywhere but at Becks.
Becks wouldn't have that. He walked over to Luke, his steps confident. "Need my help, do ya?" He rocked back on his heels.
"Becks." Nicky scowled. "Cut it out. Luke, you're welcome here. Becks and I know a little about evading the paparazzi." He slipped an arm over Wylder's shoulders. "If it wasn't for this one, I wouldn't have survived the constant attention at the start of my relationship with Becks. She used to help me get out of work at the Main unseen."
"You worked at the Main?" Logan asked. "The place I went with you and Wylder?"
He nodded. "That place is like home. Let's just say, I know what you guys are going through, and it sucks. I'm sorry. You're welcome here for as long as you need to stay."
"I was going to say that." Becks pouted. "Eventually."
"Sure, babe." To the twins, he said, "I made coffee. It's late, so I made decaf, but I figured you might appreciate it when you got here."
"Yes." Wylder pressed a kiss to his cheek and walked toward the kitchen. "You are wonderful, Nick Nick."
"Hey," Becks called. "What about your brother?"
"You're okay."
Wylder pulled down mugs and poured coffee into them before passing them out. She didn't hesitate sipping hers, letting the scalding hot liquid warm her frozen limbs.
Logan slid his coat down his arms, and Wylder realized what a crap host she was. Setting her coffee down, she took both Logan and Luke's coats, hanging them on hooks along with hers by the back door.
When she returned to the kitchen, Becks and Luke's voices were all she heard.
"I just don't understand why you hate it so much." Becks scowled.
"Because it's completely ridiculous. You're ridiculous. I honestly don't know why this entire town is so obsessed with the great Beckett Anderson." Luke crossed his arms.
"Me? At least I'm not lying to them."
Luke's eyes narrowed. "You've never lied to them, huh? How about when you told the world you were gay?"
"I'm in love with a dude!"
"But you weren't then. Your relationship was a lie."
Wylder had to stop this. "Guys, come on."
"Stay out of this, Wylds." Becks shot her a glare. "I won't stop until he admits it."
"I will never in my life admit it."
"Admit what?" Wylder was so confused.
Logan sidled up on one side and Nicky joined her on the other.
"Do we have any idea what they're talking about?" Logan asked.
"I don't know what Becks is talking about half the time," Nicky said.
"This is ridiculous." Wylder sighed.
Becks rose up to his full height and stepped closer to Luke. "Say it."
"No." Luke's jaw tensed.
"Five bucks says Luke is the first one to throw a punch." Logan dug a five-dollar bill out of his wallet.
"I'll take that bet." Nicky slapped his own fiver down.
"Don't encourage them." Wylder definitely didn't want this to end in bloodshed.
Especially because she thought Becks would lose.
"I'm waiting," Becks growled.
Luke huffed. "You'll be waiting a really long time."
"Just four words." Becks ticked them off on his fingers. "Your. Hats. Are. Cool."
All the air rushed out of Wylder on a laugh. This? They were five seconds from killing each other over hats? Peals of laughter rolled through her.
"Is this really happening right now?" Logan whispered in her ear.
She nodded, wiping a tear from her eye. "Twitter, man. Twitter."
Nicky shook his head. "It's like we're getting a live re-enactment of the Twitter war. Why do I love Beckett again?"
"Because you know he'd die without you keeping him out of trouble." Wylder nudged him.
He nudged her back. "Sounds like a certain girl I know."
"Nope. My trouble is always carefully thought out. Call it smart trouble." She tugged on Logan's hand. "We're going to let you mediate, Nicky. Logan wants a tour of the rest of the house."
"I do?"
"Yes." She pulled him from the kitchen. "You do." Once out of sight, she led him to the stairs and up to the floor that had been remodeled from having four bedrooms to just two. A massive master suite with the biggest bathroom Wylder had ever seen took up more than half the space. But she turned in the opposite direction toward the room they'd designed specifically for her.
It had an en-suite bathroom and a walk-in closet that sat full of their Christmas decorations. She'd never kept much there except some old clothes and a bathrobe.
She didn't show Logan any of that. Instead, she shut the door and flipped on the light before turning back to him.
"Wow," he breathed, looking around the too-big room.
Yeah, wow. But she didn't voice that as she stepped closer, so close her chest bumped his. All she'd wanted to do since dinner at her parents—a dinner that now felt a million years away—was to kiss this boy, to feel the adrenaline he made surge through her veins.
Because kissing Logan Cook was trouble. Some might say it was wrong after everything with Sebastian. Some would tell her she only longed for these moments because she'd always craved the danger, the moments that could hurt her at the same time they made her soar.
Maybe it was the trouble she wanted. But Logan... he was a good kind of trouble.
"Wylds." His fingertips traced her jaw, settling in the hollow of her throat.
"Yes?" She lifted her eyes to his in challenge.
He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers, their breath mingling. It was the middle of the night, but being this close to Logan wiped all exhaustion from her.
"Are you just going to stand there all night?" she whispered. "Or do you plan on kissing me?"
His lips curved, and he tilted his head, but another voice made him freeze.
"Wylder," Becks called from downstairs. "Where are you?"
With a sigh, Wylder pushed away from Logan. "To be continued." She stepped from her room and walked down the stairs to find Becks and Luke standing on opposite sides of the room with Nicky strategically placed between them.
Becks’ gaze fell on Logan descending the stairs behind Wylder and narrowed.
"We need to set some ground rules for this house." He pointed to the couch. "Wylder sit. Logan, you take the chair." He perched on the arm of the couch.
Luke moved to stand behind Logan's chair. "What are these rules?"
Logan sighed. "What my brother means to say is thanks for letting us stay here, for waking up in the middle of the night to welcome us. It's very much appreciated." The brothers scowled at each other.
Becks only grunted.
Nicky rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "And Becks’ grunt means we are happy to do it."
"So not what I mean." Becks looked away.
"Yeah," Luke responded. "Me either."
&nb
sp; "Okay, children." Wylder clapped her hands together. "I'm tired and would like to get some sleep in this century. Becks, what are these ridiculous rules?"
"How do you know they're ridiculous if I haven't said them?"
She shot him a knowing look.
Becks ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Fine. The first and most important rule. Breaking this will result in excommunication and possible death." He paused dramatically. "Under no circumstances will either of you Cooks enter the bedroom of Wylder Anderson. It's off-limits. Capisce?"
"Like I would want to go in her room," Luke scoffed.
Becks shot to his feet. "And what is wrong with her? Any guy would be lucky to go into her room."
"Oh my gosh." Wylder buried her face in her hands.
"Babe." Nicky put a hand on Becks' shoulder. "You're supposed to be convincing them not to go in there."
"I'm sorry. It's just my sister is beautiful. Luke should count his lucky stars if she ever looked his way."
"Becks, please stop." She didn't lift her face. How could she face Logan now?
"Does he always talk in clichés?" Luke asked.
"Yep." Wylder finally looked at her brother. "He's also embarrassing. Let's move on."
"Fine." Becks shot Luke a glare. "The second ground rule is if you see someone breaking in during the night, make sure they don't know me before you tackle them to the ground."
Wylder shook her head. That couldn't be a real rule. They'd had a mishap once. And it wasn't like he'd mortally wounded her.
Becks continued. "Rule number three. No one touches my coffee maker but Nicky."
"Not even you?" Logan asked.
"No way." Nicky laughed. "He can't make coffee, and you don't want him to try."
Wylder stood. This was stupid. "We done?"
Becks opened his mouth, but Nicky cut him off. "Yes. I'm taking this guy upstairs to get some sleep. Will you show the guys the guest room and where to find towels and stuff?"
"Sure. Night."
Nicky hugged her. "We are really glad you're here."
"Even though I brought his nemesis with me?"
"Wylds, we want you here any way we can have you."
She smiled as she pulled away and gave Becks a quick hug. "Thanks, big bro."
He squeezed her tightly but didn't say anything.
Once the two of them were gone, Wylder led Logan and Luke to the guest room where one king bed sat in the center.
Luke glared at it for a moment before turning to her. "We aren't sharing a bed."
"Why not?" In the remodel, Becks got rid of all but one guest room in favor of enlarging others. This was usually just where her parents slept when they visited. Sometimes she crashed here when she didn't feel like being upstairs next to the guys.
Luke rounded the bed. "I need my sleep, and I won't get it if someone else is here snoring." His eyes settled on Logan.
Logan sighed. "Is it okay if I take the couch?"
"Of course." Wylder shouldn't have been surprised by Luke's attitude, but it still rubbed her the wrong way. He couldn't be more different from Logan if he tried.
Leaving Luke to get ready for bed, she went to the linen closet and found sheets, a blanket, and a pillow. "You sure you're okay on the couch?"
Logan shrugged. "Doesn't bother me."
"Do you really snore?" She smirked.
"No." He laughed. "That's Luke, but he's always making up excuses so no one hears him. Sometimes he has girls stay over and he gets very little sleep since he doesn't want to snore."
Wylder snorted. "That's really sad. I feel like I was just given the holy grail of secrets." She tucked the sheet over the couch cushions and pulled off the back cushions, setting them on the coffee table. "What else are the Cook brothers hiding?"
One corner of his mouth curled up. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"I would." She set the pillow down, and he grabbed her wrist, turning her to face him. "I really would."
His eyes searched hers, for what, she didn't know. "Wylder." He closed his eyes and released a breath.
As much as she wanted to kiss him and never stop, now wasn't the time. "Becks is probably going to do a bed check on me in a minute." She tried to laugh at the thought, but it wasn't a joke. He really would check up on her.
"Night, Wylder."
Reaching up on her toes, she brushed a kiss over his cheek. "Night, Logan."
She could feel his eyes on her as she climbed the stairs. In her room, she changed into the one pair of pajamas she'd brought—furry cat pants and an oversized sweatshirt that said "Hear Meow."
Slipping under the blankets on her bed, she realized there wasn't an ounce of tiredness in her. Not anymore.
She stared up at the ceiling and clapped her hands to turn off the motion sensor lights Becks insisted on putting in here.
Soon after the room went dark, the door cracked open, letting in a sliver of light from the hall.
Becks stepped in. "Psst, Wylds. You asleep?"
"Well, if I was, I wouldn't be now." She sat up and clapped her lights on.
He sent her an indulgent smile—which was much more Becks than the fighting she'd witnessed before. He wasn't petty or petulant. Not her brother. The guy she loved was kind and always willing to help someone in need.
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay." He lifted one shoulder in a shrug.
She smiled. "Yeah, Becks. I'm good."
"Okay." He pushed out a breath. "Okay, just checking in."
As much as it annoyed her, her brother's worry was also sweet. He'd probably check in on her for the rest of her life. There were worse things.
"Hey, Becks?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you." He’d know what for. Calling the school to break her free, letting her bring his nemesis here to hide him. Even checking on her before going to bed.
He offered only a smile before slipping back out through the door.
18
Wylder tiptoed down the stairs, trying not to wake Logan.
“Ouch.” She stubbed her toe on the bottom stair. Hopping across the room, she swallowed her cries, stumbling into the kitchen. “Oh, the pain,” she choked as she cracked the fridge open, careful not to make any noise.
“You can’t possibly be hungry.” Logan’s shadow moved to the bar.
“No. Ice. Pain. Foot.” Wylder grabbed a handful of ice from the freezer.
“Drop it.” Logan came up behind her. “Sit.” He pointed to the barstool.
“Stupid stair railing. It gets me every time.” She hopped to the seat.
“There has to be an icepack in here somewhere.” Logan shifted through boxes of frozen pizzas.
“See if they have taquitos.”
“You don’t need taquitos.”
“You don’t know that. Taquitos might be the magic cure.”
“Ah, here it is.”
“Pop them in the toaster.”
“It’s an icepack for your toe, Wylds.” Logan bent down to lay the icepack across her injured foot.
“Oh, that feels nice, thank you.” She wiggled her toes under the cool compress.
“What brings you downstairs in the middle of the night?”
“I was thirsty.”
“Water?” He turned to the fridge.
“Or hot chocolate.”
“Right, the perfect thirst quencher.”
“Keurig’s on the counter by the oven.”
“All right.” Logan turned the K-Cup tree to peruse the options. “You want white chocolate, dark, or salted caramel?”
“They don’t have chocolate flavored chocolate?”
“No… wait, yes, there’s one left. It has a sticky note on it that says, ‘property of superstar Beckett Anderson’.”
“That’s the one I want.”
“You sure you want to risk the superstar’s ire?”
“One-hundred percent.”
“It’s your funeral.” Logan popped the K-Cup into the machine and hit the brew
button.
“Marshmallows, we need lots of marshmallows.” Wylder waved toward the cabinet over Logan’s head.
“Got it.” Logan passed her the bag.
“And the melty peppermints.”
“And the melty peppermints.” Logan sighed and passed her the container of mints. “How are you not diabetic?” He retrieved her mug of cocoa from the machine and loaded a white hot chocolate pack for himself.
Wylder piled her mug with marshmallows and peppermints, stirring until they melted. “So good.” She hummed to herself as she sipped.
“All that chocolate and sugar won’t exactly help you fall asleep, you know.” Logan leaned on the counter in front of her, tapping his mug to hers.
“I will sleep like a baby with a belly full of warm chocolaty goodness.”
“How’s your foot?” He moved to check under the icepack and let out a low whistle.
“What’s the verdict?”
“I don’t know, is your toe usually that color?”
Wylder glanced down to see her big toe was red and swollen to twice its normal size. “Yikes, is it broken?” She tried wiggling her toes.
“Don’t think so, but you should probably elevate it.” Logan helped her up, and they moved to the couch.
“Ouch.” Wylder winced as she lifted her foot to the coffee table.
“One second.” Logan darted back to the kitchen to grab the icepack and their hot chocolates.
“More marshmallows,” Wylder whisper-shouted for Logan to bring the bag with him.
He shook his head with a grin. “You have the most epic sweet tooth, Wylds.”
“It makes me extra sweet on the inside.” She batted her eyelashes, and Logan snorted.
“Hey, I’m sweet.”
“And a little salty too.” Logan sat her hot chocolate on the table beside her along with the bag of marshmallows. He sat next to her and twisted her foot to rest on his lap.
“I am not salty.” Wylder scowled at him.
“Lift your foot, grumpy girl.” Logan scooted a pillow under her foot and placed the icepack on her giant toe.
“Now I’m grumpy?”
“You, Wylder Anderson, are not just sweet, or salty, or grumpy or any other adjective you can think of. You’re all of it rolled into one.”
Wylder and the Almost Rockstar (Reluctant Rockstars Book 2) Page 14
