Page 54 of Wild Card

Gwen: Well, you’re the one who keeps bringing them up.

“What’s the deal with you and Bash?”

Tabitha is leaning across the center seat, staring at my screen, and I didn’t even notice. I go still now, flipping my phone over in my lap and peeking out the cab’s windshield.

Bash’s place is just a little farther beyond hers, so we split the ride. We’ve had a fun night. I needed it after the intensity of Clyde’s post-op care. And after sharing two bottles of wine with the girls, my brain is just a little too foggy to properly respond to such a direct question.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re sitting here texting him with a creepy smile on your face. And Rhys told me that you”—she drops her voice and leans toward me with a dramatic whisper—“dated his son.”

My heart rate accelerates like it always does when this topic comes up. I feel guilty over Tripp, even though I had no way of knowing. If I could go back in time and un-date him, I would.

“Yeah. But it’s…complicated.”

Almost as complicated as dodging Bash every day in his house. Trying to keep away because he asked me to.

“Pfffffft.” Tabitha blows a drunken raspberry as she flops back in her seat. “Complicated is just an excuse. Ask me how I know. Rhys and I were complicated once.”

My lips press together. She and Rhys are a different story. They were made for each other, where Bash and I were apparently made to torture each other.

“You know what’s complicated?” Tabby’s head rolls toward me. “Life. Life is complicated. And short. Gwen, life is too damn short not to wade through all the complications. And you guys are too hot not to bang. I’ve seen the fuck-me eyes you give each other.”

I bark out a laugh. “Tabitha. You’ve had too much wine.”

The tiny woman just waves me off. “You heard me. If you’re allowed to tease Rhys and me about chakras, then we get to talk about Bash. He needs chakra 911. The only cure is doing naked yoga with the hot teacher.”

I slump back and throw an arm over my eyes to hide from the embarrassing conversation. Sex doesn’t make me uncomfortable—but the thought of everyone around us knowing our sordid history does. “Bash wants to settle down,” I counter. “I’m not the right person for that.”

And it’s partially true. Bash does want to settle down. He straight-out told me as much.

“Why not? You act like he’s looking for a woman to keep pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen or something.”

“Rose Hill is a temporary stop. I like moving around. I like to travel. There’s a lot I want to see and do still. I can’t be tied down—it stresses me out. I watched my mom do it. It’s not for me.”

What I don’t tell her is that this morning I received a job offer that would take me to Costa Rica teaching yoga at a resort for the winter. It’s the perfect combination of travel and professional development. It’s an escape from Canadian winters.

It’s an escape from Bash.

And yet, I didn’t instantaneously accept the position.

“You can’t leave. You love it here. Our trivia team would be fucked without you. And I’d miss your big titties.” Her gazedrops to my chest, where my breasts are indeed pressed against my thin black sweater. She sighs wistfully. “You sure there’s no way to share just a little of all that with me?”

I laugh. “My titties and I will miss you too. I’ll definitely have to come back and visit.”

Tabby shrugs. “Why do you have to be tied down? I tend to think the right person would be happy to go on those adventures with you. Or not. Rhys and I do lots of things on our own. Having a partner doesn’t mean being tied down.”

My head wobbles, but I don’t respond. I don’t know what to say to that. I’ve never seen that kind of relationship in action. My mom was always rushing to get dinner on the table before my dad walked through the door. Packing his lunch in the morning. Pressing his clothes for him like she was a maid and not a partner.

If I tiptoed around him, shecateredto him. No savings, no education, no job experience.

No way out if she even wanted it.

Yeah, no. I won’t let that be me.

When we pull up in front of Tabby’s craftsman house in the center of town, she pats my leg. “The world is your oyster, Gwen. But eating oysters with someone else is the best. Do you know why?”

“Why?”