Chapter 2The Mute and the Wild

"Put the pen down," I whispered. "Meeting in person is for kissing and holding each other. It’s not a study hall."

Wyatt went entirely rigid. Earlier, I’d been annoyed that the cafe staff had seated us in this secluded, high-walled booth in the back corner, but now, I wanted to leave them a massive tip.

My gorgeous little mute boyfriend couldn't speak, but he was incredibly sweet. He was clumsy at it—he didn't know how to pace his breathing, and he kept his eyes wide open, staring at me in sheer wonder.

I had to hand it to Weston Prescott. He had sent me an absolute treasure.

Before we left the cafe, I gently took Wyatt’s phone from his hand. "Let me see our chat. I want to look through our old messages."

When I opened the thread, a wave of irritation washed over me. Weston’s performance as an online boyfriend had been incredibly lazy. His texts consisted of nothing but 'Good morning,' 'Have you eaten?' and 'Going to sleep.'

And Wyatt, completely oblivious to the fact that his brother was using him as a pawn, had responded to every single dry text with adorable, customized little rabbit emojis.

I opened the contact settings, deleted the old number, and added my actual personal line. "I got a new number," I told him, dropping the phone back into his hand. "Use this one from now on."

Wyatt still looked dazed, his lips slightly swollen and dark, his eyes carrying a soft, watery sheen. Looking at how beautifully ruined he looked after a simple kiss, my chest tightened with a strange, possessive thrill.

I leaned in close, pressing my cheek against his, and snapped a quick selfie before he could protest.

Wyatt walked me to the bus stop, turning back to look at me every three steps. He was still clutching that little blue paper heart like it was made of solid gold.

I hummed a song all the way back to my apartment, utterly delighted by my stroke of good luck.

As soon as I sat on my bed, my phone buzzed. The contact name Baby—which I hadn't changed yet—flashed on the screen. It was Weston, obviously texting from the burner account he’d used to catfish me.

Are you satisfied with my performance today?

He had probably just gotten home and was eager to hear how much of a fool I'd made of myself. I opened my camera roll and selected the selfie I’d just taken with Wyatt.

Wyatt's eyes were glassy, his lips flushed and parted, his hair beautifully mussed from where my fingers had tangled in it. I hit send, adding a quick text:

I like you even more in person, baby. But next time we kiss, try not to tremble so much. It'll make things easier.

The floating text in the air above my desk filled with a long string of ellipses.

“Holy hell, this girl is savage. Wes is probably turning green right now.”

“The golden boy wanted to humiliate her, and instead his innocent little brother got absolutely devoured.”

“To be honest, with the exact same face, Wyatt is so much cuter and sweeter. If he weren't mute, he’d easily be the campus heartthrob.”

It took a long, agonizingly quiet ten minutes before a reply finally popped up on my screen.

I didn't do well today. Let's meet again tomorrow. Same time.

I curved my lips into a cold smile but didn’t reply. The chat comments in the air were equally baffled.

“What is Wes doing now? Is he going to play the mute brother again, or is he going to show up himself?”

“I think he’s losing his mind. Why is he staring at that photo like he wants to tear it apart? He’s literally zooming in on her face...”

“He’s probably memorizing her features so he can destroy her tomorrow.”

I scoffed, opening Weston's contact info. I deleted the name Baby and changed it to The Jerk.

Then, I tapped into my actual chat with Wyatt—the real account we’d just set up.

Did you make it home safe, baby?

He replied instantly with a rabbit nodding emoji, followed by the blinking text: Typing...

I waited patiently, watching the little bubbles dance. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of hesitation, a message appeared.

Baby, I'm home?

He was so nervous he’d accidentally added a question mark at the end. I laughed out loud, rolling over on my mattress.

He quickly deleted the message, replacing it with a simple: I'm home.

I didn't let him hide. I hit the FaceTime button. He answered on the very first ring, his face flushing a deep, lovely pink the moment my screen connected.

"I saw the first text before you deleted it, Wyatt," I teased, leaning close to the camera. "Can you call me baby again?"

The screen went silent. Wyatt’s eyes dimmed slightly, a quiet vulnerability flickering in his gaze. I immediately realized my mistake. He couldn't speak, and asking him to "say" it was a thoughtless slip.

"I had a really good time today," I said quickly, changing the subject and pressing my face closer to the lens. "Did you?"

On the screen, the boy’s shy, beautiful smile returned. He nodded eagerly, looking exactly like his favorite rabbit emoji. He was so incredibly precious.

For the next two hours, we stayed on the call. Wyatt couldn't talk, so he simply sat at his desk, his chin resting on his hand, watching me talk about my day. His eyes were wide and clear, reflecting the light of his screen like a pair of quiet, brilliant stars.

There was a strange, deep sense of familiarity in the way he looked at me, but before I could search my memory to place it, a sharp knock sounded on his bedroom door.

Wyatt jumped, his posture instantly stiffening. He pointed toward his door, his eyes wide with sudden apprehension.

"Kiss me through the screen before you go," I whispered.