Wild Side (Rose Hill, #3)(63)

Rhys: The cat would protect me.

Tabby: She wouldn’t know. I’m sneaky like that.

Rhys: You’d have to move her to get under the covers.

I bark out a laugh, head shaking in disbelief at the screen in my palm.

Tabby: RHYS DID YOU JUST ADMIT TO SLEEPING WITH CLEOCATRA?

Tabby: THE CAT YOU ARE “ALLERGIC” TO AND DO NOT LIKE?

Rhys: I’m not allergic to her.

Tabby: Clearly.

Rhys: Listen, I’m not a cat person. But as far as cats go…that one is fine.

Tabby: That one? Fine?

Rhys: How is she?

He ignores my jabs, so I send him a picture of Cleo coiled up with white paws tucked tight.

Tabby: Good. But now that you mention it, I caught her meowing by the basement door before I brought her on the couch.

Rhys: She can sleep down there while I’m gone.

I actually laugh. This big, tough, emotions-locked-up-tight man for whom I adopted a cat solely to piss off is now worried about her coping while he’s gone.

Tabby: Adorable.

Rhys: The two of you are like a fungus. I can’t get rid of you, so I’ve just learned to like you.

My head tilts. As far as Rhys goes, that’s pretty expressive. And kind of…sweet?

Good lord, this guy has really fucked with my head.

Tabby: I wish you had put that in the wedding vows. It’s very romantic.

The dots swirl as he types, and I glance up at the TV to see what I’m missing. In the center ring stands his current nemesis, Million Dollar Bill. He’s wearing a tailored suit and a cocky smirk, one hand on his championship belt and the other wrapped around a mic.

And he’s shit-talking my husband.

I know it’s loosely scripted and they’re following a storyline, but my brows furrow and my molars clamp down on each other all the same.

Tabby: I hate Little Willy and his stupid, smug face.

The dots stop and start up again.

Rhys: You’re supposed to. Everyone loves to hate him. If it helps, he’s a nice kid. Young and eager, but a natural. I like wrestling with him.

Tabby: It doesn’t help.

Rhys: Lol. I will let him know.

The opening notes of loud music cut off his tirade about how Wild Side is old and past his prime. Out walks a gorgeous blond woman with a belt slung over her shoulder. She smiles at the crowd, waving like a pageant queen. Her silky hair is poker straight, and her bike shorts and crop top do her nothing but favors.

Tabby: Damn. Who is she? She’s so hot.

The woman struts down the ramp to the ring, taking the mic that’s handed to her from someone on the side. “Will, Will, Will. You sure have a lot to say for someone who hasn’t beat a world champion without the help of all his little goon friends.”

“Elle, how lovely to see you. Looking good, as usual. Did you come to beg for me back?” Will’s gaze roams up and down her body like she’s a piece of meat, and he licks his lips for extra dramatic effect.

“Careful, trust-fund baby. I’ve traded in and traded up. If my man, Wild Side, catches you looking at me like that, he might beat your ass harder than he’s already going to.”

I go still. My man?

The crowd’s response is a mix of surprised gasps and oohs. Will’s face goes slack as he does his best to look terrified by this revelation. I’m assuming it’s a revelation. Rhys’s character having a love interest is news to me. Or maybe I’m out of the loop. It’s not like we are in the habit of telling each other lots of things.

I make a mental note to google it later. Or bring it up casually with Cora next time she babysits.

My phone vibrates in my hand.

Rhys: I didn’t know about this. I haven’t been back to HQ yet to talk with the writers.

My brows furrow. I know it’s not real. Nothing about it matters, but it still feels like a bucket of icy water down my back, and obviously it’s caught Rhys off guard too.

“Oh, don’t look so scared, Little Willy.” Elle pouts at the suit-clad wrestler across from her as she circles him. “You had to know this was coming. Wild Side just needed a little nursing back to health.” She gives him a suggestive wink. “And I was the perfect girl to get him back on his feet.”

Hoots and hollers sound from the audience as my cheeks heat.

“That’s right. I’ve been keeping him locked up safe with me. Working out hard to get ready for that championship match. In fact, we have a little message for you.”

Then she points up at the Jumbotron. It crackles to life, and on the screen, playing to tens of thousands of people, is the promo I filmed. The one that led to teasing, and chasing, and a hot and heavy make-out session that is burned into my brain. Seeing it on TV hits me with a thrill I didn’t expect. And the screaming of the crowd hits me with a realization that Rhys is a much bigger deal than I’ve been giving him credit for.

Tabby: That’s ours! We did that! I filmed that!

Rhys: Tabby, I swear I didn’t know about this storyline. No matter what, it’s fake.

I swallow. He seems very fixated on that point, whereas I was trying desperately to move on. And while he may not have been entirely honest with me in the past, I get the sense that he’s an earnest and thoughtful person.

So, I opt to cut him the slack he needs, playing it off like hearing some hot-as-hell chick talk about working out hard with him doesn’t make sparks of jealousy flash in my chest at all.