Chapter 18

Daria

I sneakily study Wilder through my eyelashes, baffled by my hyperawareness of his presence. I'm drawn to him, but I'm confident I can't be the only woman pinning for him.

Wilder got that kind of aura that can make every head whip in his direction, and when you get to know him—damn, he is kind!

It was a bit scary when Wilder raised his tone earlier, but right now, we are watching a super old romantic movie, and I can tell he hates it, yet he is enduring it for my sake.

"Do you usually watch this kind of stuff?" Wilder licks the ice cream from his spoon. We have spent the entire day together, painting until it got dark, and now we are lounging in my bed. "And I love this ice cream—where did you get it?"

I snort. "The supermarket, I take it you have never been? Poor rich people and not having experienced normal stuff."

A smile tugs on his lips, and he shoves my shoulder. I laugh in response, entertained by the expression Wilde