Wild Card by Ashley Munoz
Chapter Nineteen
“Hey, it’s party girl.”
I turned to inspect the face of the guy from the night prior, standing with his back straight and a broad smile on his face. It was Elias Matthews—the real one. He’d cornered me at a random party I’d decided to attend with Hillary and Juan. They could tell I needed some cheering up. I guess I wasn’t great at pretending being ghosted didn’t bother me, but whatever. Elias brought his A game with the smiling, flirting, and trying to get me to go out with him. I was trying to keep a low profile, just wanted to get out of the house so Taylor didn’t pick up on my mood. I wasn’t expecting to catch the attention of the captain of the Devils, but here I had it, two days in a row.
“It’s you again.” I held the loaf of bread between us, hugging it to my chest like it was a life preserver. The aisle was narrow, and people kept trying to cut between us, making my anxiety spike as a few people drew too close.
He must have picked up on my issue. His body twisted to block the entrance entirely.
Elias was tall and thick. He looked like a typical bodybuilder or steroid abuser with veins in places I didn’t even know veins could be. Today he wore a black tee, a Devils baseball hat covering his blond hair, and the insignia for the Devils tattooed onto the side of his shaved head.
“You were playing hard to get last night.” His shoe touched the tip of mine in a flirtatious way. The lights overhead were obnoxiously bright, and I itched to grab my sunglasses out of my bag to help ward off the impending headache I knew was coming. I’d drunk more than I usually did at the party, and I wanted to punch something when I considered how I was reacting to this entire Decker situation. I wasn’t a big drinker, especially when I was up against a deadline. The hangover was punishment enough, but I still felt a little foolish.
I shrugged. “Wasn’t playing at all, just not interested.”
“Why?” His blue eyes narrowed on me. He probably wasn’t used to being told women weren’t interested in him.
“I don’t know.” What was I supposed to say? That Decker didn’t like him and obviously wanted to hurt him in some way, which seemed like a good enough reason to avoid him?
“Give me a shot.”
The words stung. I didn’t even know why they did, but I’d imagined what had happened that night between Decker and Taylor so many times I now had actual words in my head for what he had probably said to her. Who knew, maybe they’d exchanged numbers and had been texting this entire week, and that was why Decker had decided to drop me out of nowhere.
“Why?” I asked.
Another patron wanted the discounted loaves of bread at my back, but one glimpse at the giant next to me had them pushing their cart down the opposite aisle.
“Do I need a reason?” He shrugged.
He did, yes—although, again, it wasn’t like I actually trusted this guy. Then again…if Decker was done talking to me about the games and the story, maybe this was my chance to get a different view, a different side of things. Besides, I couldn’t go back to watching my cell phone for any sign of life from Decker. I’d seen him around school a few times, but I was way too ashamed to approach him. I had literally come off as the world’s most pathetic cling-on. I couldn’t believe how many times I had texted to see if he wanted to hang out. My face burned at the mere memory of my attempts to see him after the trip to his mom’s. I’d thought we had a moment or something. It had felt real, but the way he’d woken up, turning away from me and quickly snatching up his shoes…I guess I realized it then.
Still, on the way home, he’d been quiet but not silent. I had figured he was just emotional after sleeping in his childhood bedroom after not being able to for so long. I was wrong. He’d dropped me like a bad, annoyingly clingy habit.
With that fresh feeling of embarrassment burning in my chest and a deep desire not to deal with Decker James any longer, I smiled at the man in front of me.
“You want a shot? You have it. What exactly did you have in mind?”
* * *
“It’s crispy out here.”Hillary rubbed her arms through her jacket. She had on two massive sweaters underneath it, a pair of gloves, and a hat. It was North Carolina in early March—not exactly cold, yet my best friend was layered like she was about to be abducted and taken into the Alaskan wilderness.
“Feels good.” I settled into the cold bleacher seat. Never mind—holy shit that is cold.
“Told ya.” Hillary smirked, laying down a blanket for us to sit on.
So much better.
“So, why are we out here on a random Wednesday, watching the Devils practice?”
I narrowed my gaze, trying to sort out who exactly was on the field. They seemed to be in practice jerseys, so I didn’t know who was who. It was just a sea of white with that red D on the front left side of their shirts. Some of the players had hats twisted around, others had padding and face masks, and there were gloves and balls being thrown faster than I could blink.
“Uh…we’re researching.”
“Researching what?” I didn’t have to see Hillary’s face to know her nose was scrunched and her chin was dipped into the collar of her coat.
Question of the year.
“Hey…that guy keeps looking toward us.”
I followed her line of sight, and sure enough, there he was—Elias Matthews. Tall and broad-shouldered, maybe from throwing all those fastballs, or the steroids. Either way, the guy was stacked like crazy. I internally compared him to Decker. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but Decker was a permanent fixture in my head and would forever be the standard I measured all men against.
“He’s smiling at you.”
Yes he was. What a flirt.
Hillary’s face whipped my direction only to return forward, facing the field.
“What’s going on?”
“He asked me to come watch today,” I explained, like that could answer all her questions. She knew he’d talked to me at that party, but she didn’t know about the grocery store. She was team ditch Decker though, so I had that going for me at least.
“How does this work into your plan?” my best friend whispered conspiratorially, brushing up against me.
“If you keep doing that, Miranda is going to kick my ass.” I leaned away from her.
“She doesn’t think there’s anything going on between us—she knows you’re straight.” She waved me off.
Yeah right. Hillary had just started seeing Miranda. My best friend didn’t know that her girlfriend had made it very clear that if I made any physical contact with Hillary at any time for any reason, she would cut that part off of my body. Girl had issues.
“So, what…is Elias your new lead?”
“I think so. There’s a story there…I just need to dig it up.”
“No.” Hillary stood and started stomping down the metal bleachers.
“Wait—where are you going?” Hil! Oh my gosh, stop.” I nearly fell face first into the dirt toward the bottom of the bleachers. Coordinated I was not.
“You aren’t risking your heart or your pussy for this story, not more than you already have. You can’t tell, but you’re already changing.” She stomped ahead, crossing her arms over her chest.
I quickly looked around to ensure no one had overheard her little tirade before running to keep up with her.
“Hil, what are you talking about?”
She spun on her heel, her face set in hard lines, her mouth a firm dash against her softer face.
“You spent last weekend with Decker…in his house. You talk about him more than you realize, you light up when you tell me the details about this little deal—but you also look like you lost your puppy when you explain the Taylor part of the story. And the fact that he totally ghosted you! You’re in pain over it, and here you are risking even more.”
I watched the grass at our feet as I considered her words.
“Yeah, maybe so…but I know the deal. This will actually help me distance myself from him. He’s not the only one who can spin a deal to his advantage.” The hairs on my neck rose as if I was being watched. I took a second to twist my neck and look behind me. Elias was watching us, but so was someone close to the dugout. A clipboard was perched in front of him, a dark ball cap covering his dark hair, and from where I stood, it looked like a glacial stare was aimed my way. I didn’t care. I couldn’t.
He’d ignored me for days, and now that Elias was smiling at me and—fuck—jogging over, he suddenly cared.
“He’s coming over here.” Hillary gripped my arm.
“Ow, tone down your grip, crazy.” I pulled my arm free, rubbing it.
“What are you going to do? Is that the other guy? He’s running over here too—my anxiety can’t take this.”
I reached down, threading my fingers with hers to hopefully help keep her calm. Hillary was a hit first, ask questions later kind of person. Decker ran behind Elias as the captain slowed to a light jog in front of us. The fence separated us, but I could see his flirty smile and appreciate the way the sun glistened off his sweaty neck and face. He had a group of freckles along his cheeks and nose, which was cute. They paired nicely with his navy eyes.
“Party girl.” He beamed, grabbing the bill of his hat.
I shifted forward, about to ask if that was his intended nickname for me because it wasn’t my favorite, but my tongue wouldn’t work as I noticed Decker’s speed. His face was set in hard lines as he drew closer and closer until he rammed his shoulder into Elias’s side, forcing him a few feet away.
“I fucking warned you, E. Don’t.” Decker’s tone cut the distance; his eyes could have killed someone on the spot. His mossy green gaze narrowed, his dark brows forming a shelf, highlighting his dipped expression and severe jaw.
Elias began laughing, righting himself, until his fingers were wrapped through the metal links in front of me.
“Back off, Duggar. She’s here because I asked her to be.”
Decker’s gaze left Elias, landing on me. A shudder overtook him as he adjusted his footing in the dirt, his scarred hand stretching at his side.
“That true?” He tipped his chin toward me.
It was such a simple question, but it burned me like a brand. He was asking if I had shown up for Elias, but I knew my answer would hurt him. Regardless of what Decker had done, I didn’t want to hurt him. Still, I wasn’t a liar either.
“Yeah, he invited me to come and watch.” I could have explained about the story, probably should have…but Decker had ghosted me, so who was to say he’d even care?
Decker’s body went rigid, his chest heaving up and down in angry gasps like he couldn’t get enough air. Rage radiated from him, and I knew as his fists clenched that some of those rumors about him might be true.
I watched, holding my breath as I waited for him to decide how he’d handle this information. I assumed he would throw a punch at Elias or drag him into the dirt, something violent, but a second later he let out a little scoff and began shaking his head.
Those eyes darted to me one last time before he spun on his heel and walked away.
Heat overwhelmed my face as I watched his retreating form. There was a name stitched into the back with red lettering—‘Duggar’—with the number four below it. I’d never seen him in his gear before. He was handsome with the way it fit his chest snugly and the pants wrapped around his strong thighs. It was all in a package, covering the man who’d held me in his childhood bed just days earlier while facing down some of the scariest demons in his life.
The coach yelled something from his spot near the catcher, which made Elias turn before returning to face me again. His pinched features indicated he needed to get back.
“Come out with me tomorrow.”
I didn’t want to. My eyes sought Decker on instinct, but I had to stop pining over someone who didn’t want me.
I nodded, unable to voice what felt like betrayal on my tongue. He smiled before dipping his head and running back to the middle of the diamond.
Hillary waited until he was gone before crossing her arms and turning on me.
“So, you’re going after Elias now?”
I shrugged. “Why not? Maybe he’ll give up some juicy bit about the game or—even better—about what happened between him and Decker. There’s a lot of water under that bridge, and I’m just building myself a little paddle boat, Hil.” I continued to watch the players move, my eyes betraying me by wandering over to the dugout and the guy inside bent over the clipboard. What did he do for the team? Did he still play at all? What had really happened?
Hillary seemed to think it over for a second, her brown eyes scanning the ground as though the answers were scattered there. Finally, she looked up and said, “Then we have some work to do.”
I waited while she spun on her heel once more, heading toward the car. She knew I’d follow because I was curious as hell about what kind of work she had in mind, and my lime-flavored chips were in her bag.
* * *
I facedthe mirror in my bathroom, pressing in closer and closer until the reflection looked familiar. My hair was shorter, but somehow with the layers, it seemed longer. The sleek strands framed my face, adding dimension to my jawline. The makeup she’d had me buy had all been meticulously selected by her older sister, who was an influencer with millions of followers on some social media platform that was trending like wildfire. She knew, because of Hillary’s big fat mouth, that I had access to credit cards, black cards with no limits. I had never once touched them for a single thing in my college career, but I was certain Kendra and Hillary had put a hefty dent in them today.
I couldn’t find it in my heart to care. Taylor had even applauded me for finally using it for something good. I withheld an eye roll because makeup and makeovers didn’t sit on the list of something good in my book, but she had a point—my father obviously wanted something from both of us if his cryptic text reminders about his event were any indication. Why not use the cards every now and again?
I heard the knock on the front door and exited the bathroom, shutting off the light as I treaded toward the foyer. I took in a quiet breath to calm my nerves, shoving down the urge to smile or even preen knowing who might be on the other side.
I knew who would be standing there. I’d texted him, telling him tonight would be a good chance to spend time with Taylor. It felt awkward after our encounter on the field, but even if he didn’t want to hold up his end of our bargain, I still would. For the first time in a week, he had finally responded to my text, telling me he’d be here by six.
Go figure.
Of course, it splintered my heart like a piece of brittle wood…but this had been the deal from the very beginning, and I couldn’t be angry at him for it.
I swung the door wide, letting him in. My eyes stayed on the floor because I didn’t want to see his lack of reaction to my makeover changes, or worse, the obvious surprise that I’d fixed my moppy head of curls and finally applied more than just mascara to my eyes. He was here for Taylor, and that was all there was to our relationship. He’d more than made that clear.
“Come on in. Taylor will be out in just a second.”
I moved so he could come in, my eyes trailing over his brown boots, untied and gaping open around the dark denim. It was sexy, and I had to force my eyes shut so I wouldn’t notice.
“Mallory.” My name on his lips, spoken in that timbre…it conveyed a different story than the one he was telling, a story of a different deal he wanted to broker than the one he’d fixed. We were two sides of the same coin, playing a game neither of us would win.
“Decker.” I finally lifted my eyes, shifting everything internal to align with my decision not to care about him. It was no use. My heart leapt within my chest at the sight of him, like the tip of a mountain in the middle of winter, an avalanche of desire cascading through me, ruining me. He wore his practice jersey with the red D for the Devils on the right side and red lines running down the white cotton, split open and gaping over a plain white tee.
My throat dried at how hot he looked. His dark brown hair was lightening from being in the sun, but the longer strands were messy, like he’d run his fingers through them recklessly. I wanted to demand that he explain himself, that he tell me why he’d ignored me. There was even a small part of me that wanted to ask what I had done wrong, but that tiny part needed to die. Which was why I wouldn’t give in to him.
He stepped inside, and before I could move or create space, his hand shot toward my hip, gripping me to stay put.
Dangerous. This was nothing but dangerous.
He needed Taylor to want him. For whatever reason he had, he needed her…but the way he looked down at me, pulling me flush against his chest made it seem like he needed me too.
“What have you done to your hair?” He leaned in until his nose ran along the smooth strands that hung near my ear.
His eyes closed as he inhaled and skimmed the sensitive skin there, right over my tattoo. I wanted to sink into his arms, beg him to take me back to my bedroom and close the gap that had widened between us over the past week.
“I cut it.” I cleared my throat and grabbed his forearm, desperate for space.
His eyes blazed as they ran a path along each change on my face and slowly worked their way down to my thin fitted tank top, showing tanned, freckled skin. He dipped his head to see my skinny jeans that ended above my bare toes, which were painted white. That confused gaze swiftly worked back up to meet my calculated one. I wanted to understand that look he wore, the pinched eyebrows, the worry lines, and the concern softening his gaze.
“I liked the way your hair was before…your shirts and jeans too.” He finally stepped back, and the air that was suddenly available between us burned like a heat wave.
I nodded, knowing he probably did like those things.
“Guess I’m not going for someone to like me. I want someone to want me. You know…the way you want my stepsister.”
“Hey.” A sultry, soft voice spoke up from behind me. Speak of the devil.
We both turned to see Taylor walking toward us, drawing closer to Decker, wearing tiny sleep shorts that showed the bottom of her ass cheeks. She had a sleep tank on as well, showing her perfect silicone breasts and those nipples alert and ready for Decker’s touch.
I swallowed a lump that had suddenly formed in my throat as I looked at her shiny blonde hair and tan skin, her legs that had zero cellulite, and the lack of a single hint of a muffin top at the band of the shorts hugging her hips.
I was confident in myself. I loved my body. I did…it was just that, when we were teenagers, as I blossomed into the curvy hips and awkward bust, I became aware of how different I was from her. I began to notice how the boys our age would look at her and ignore me, unless they saw a way to get to her through me. Becoming my friend, hanging out…all so, in the end, they’d get to her. Subconsciously, I had handed over a few cards to Taylor that never belonged to her. I was so careful to ensure no one else was given those things freely, but it was so hard to get them back once I’d let them slip free.
I looked up and realized Decker’s gaze was still on me. He had that look on his face like he was chewing gravel again. I waited him out, not giving in to that look or what it might mean, until finally he slid his eyes toward Taylor. There wasn’t appreciation in his gaze, or desire…but maybe that was just what I wanted to see or didn’t want to see. Maybe I was just creating this entire thing in my head.
I needed clarity, and more than anything, I needed space.
“You kids have fun. I’m headed out.” I reached for my red hoodie, like my own little security blanket.
Decker swung his head back in my direction. “Where?”
“Elias wants to take me out tonight, wants to go dancing.” I grabbed for a pair of wedged heels, withholding a wince at how stupid of an idea it would be to dance in them all night. I wanted my Converse tennis shoes.
Decker took a step toward me and gripped my arm in a tight hold. “You fucking joking?” he angrily whispered, leaning toward my ear so Taylor wouldn’t hear.
“I’m not.” I gave him a tight smile.
“Mallory, he’s not—”
“He’s here, gotta run.”
“Mallory, don’t,” he warned, but I couldn’t let it land because I was doing exactly what he was…at least I hoped he was. There was a chance he did have feelings for Taylor, but a part of me knew he was doing this out of obligation to something. I had games to play too, and I didn’t need Decker making me feel things when he couldn’t give me what I wanted.
I pulled my arm free, waved at Taylor, and ran out the door, swinging it shut behind me.
Elias was outside his truck waiting for me, leaning against it, watching the house like a cat who’d just cornered the pesky mouse that had gotten away from him one too many times.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself.” He smiled, but it flew over my head, did nothing to me. Might as well have been Juan smiling at me.
“You ready to go?” I asked as his gaze fixated on my house. It bounced between the truck in my driveway and the front door.
“Yeah.” He pushed off the truck and headed toward my door, opening it for me. He even tried to lean over me to buckle me in, but that shit was weird.
“I got it, thanks.” I gave him a tight smile and a warning look to back off. I didn’t know him that well, and I sure as hell wouldn’t be lowering my defenses around him.
I took one last look at the house and the man who was staring at us from the front door before I closed my eyes and faced forward.