Wild Card by Ashley Munoz

Chapter Twenty

Elias Matthews was an idiot,a jock with no substance whatsoever. He was perfectly suited for a jersey chaser or anyone who didn’t mind a little bleeding in the ears, and yet I sat at the bar listening to his stories of how he’d been endorsed early on in college for all of his athletic gear, his cell phones and laptops…basically all his fancy shit. Oh, and apparently, he was already being scouted by two different pro teams. I was fairly certain at some point he used the term ‘best of the best’ in describing himself. His face flushed when he said that, leaning closer to me as he trailed a finger down my arm, but he’d still said the actual words.

“So…what’s the story with you and Decker James?” I asked coyly.

Elias’s light brows dipped, a line formed right between them.

“Duggar?”

I bit my lower lip, leaning forward. “Yeah, something like that. I’ve seen him a few times, hung out…but I’ve heard rumors about you two.”

Please work.I wanted more info on why these two hated one another, and I knew Decker would never give it to me.

Elias took a long swig of his beer, the foam left behind a white mustache along his upper lip. It made me smirk at how ridiculous he looked.

He let out a whoosh of air, which made me tense. “He tried to ruin my career, but I think God must have been looking out for me. I managed to hit the ball in a way that protected me. Another time, he attacked me, tried tripping me…ended up getting that scar on his hand. He’s bad news.”

My stomach hollowed out, tipping with defensiveness.

“So, you know him pretty well then?” I sipped my water. I wasn’t getting wasted with this guy near me. I’d bought a water bottle from the vending area near the ATM machine and had been nursing it while he drank his beer.

“Yeah, guess you could say that. We grew up together actually…you know, it’s a funny story.” He crossed his arms, leaning them on the tall table, his face sliding just inches from mine. “So I’ve actually been into your stepsister for a while…I invited her to the party that night, and now she’s with Decker, I guess.”

I wrinkled my brows in frustration and confusion. Did Taylor have a magical vagina or something? What was I missing?

“What makes you say they’re together?”

His boyish looks only amplified when he smiled and showed his dimples. He pulled his phone away from where it sat in front of him and slid it toward me. There on the screen was Taylor’s Instagram feed, with a picture of her and Decker cuddling on the couch, her face nuzzled into his neck while he smiled at the camera.

My chest seized. It literally felt like someone had just launched a missile at us then asked me to absorb the impact on behalf of civilization.

I grappled with my water bottle lid and begged the tears lining my eyes to stay the fuck inside my tear ducts. I didn’t need to show this prick that I cared that Decker had actually followed through with dating Taylor.

“Wow…didn’t realize they were so close already,” I muttered, tipping my face back to gulp back more water.

Elias watched me carefully then slowly slid his phone back to his side of the table.

“You see, that’s just it. I have known this guy for a really long time. I know what he looks like when he likes a girl. That day in the bakery…he looked at you in that way. He likes you. I wonder if he’s maybe playing a game with Taylor or something.” He shrugged his massive shoulders like it didn’t mean anything.

“Why do you say that?” The prick had me hooked and he knew it.

“He still has it out for me for whatever reason.” A palm the size of a dinner plate came up and over his shoulder, rubbing at his neck.

I was curious now; I wanted more details, even though I knew I shouldn’t. Decker had Taylor…whatever his reasons, he wanted her, and now he had her. I should have left it alone.

“What happened between you guys to make him want to ruin your career and have it out for you?” I resisted the urge to use air quotes because I wasn’t buying this guy’s bullshit.

Elias let out a heavy sigh then dipped his head, letting his hair fall along his forehead.

“Let’s just forget it…want to dance?” He held out his hand, giving me a sheepish smile.

I held back a glare. I didn’t want to dance. I wanted more information, but instead I decided to just go with the flow of the night, see if I could squeeze more from him. Even if Decker had made his choice clear, questions led to answers, and some of them might help with my article. So, I put my hand in his.

“Lead the way.”

Elias pressed his body against mine while we moved along the floor, shifting our feet briskly to the fast-paced music. I tossed my head back and laughed a few times when he sang along with the lyrics or exaggerated the moves like he was a contestant on Dancing with the Stars or something. It was nice. My lungs filled with artificial air, lifesaving but not fulfilling. I would survive the heartbreak of Decker James choosing Taylor. What I wouldn’t survive was if I didn’t choose myself.

I needed to start choosing me, no matter what…even if it was the villain in the story, the one guy who wanted to spin me around the floor and make me laugh.

Elias and I stayed out until two in the morning. At one point my defenses lowered with him, especially when he drove off toward the back of the bar, laid a blanket across his hood, and watched the stars with me. He didn’t mention Decker again, but he did talk about the game—not the card game, but the sport. Still, tidbits led to some questions I had about what I had seen in that bedroom.

He’d mentioned to me that he had invited Taylor to the game that night. I had finally registered that he might know I had gone in her place. My mind briefly considered if that meant the other team members knew as well.

I shook it off. There was no way Elias would be this nice and open with me if he knew I was writing my article. It had probably just been a slip of the tongue.

* * *

It was nearlythree in the morning when I finally slipped my key into the lock of my front door. The lights were out, and thankfully Taylor and Decker weren’t having sex in the kitchen or living room. I immediately let out a sigh of relief.

My wedged heels were off, already dangling from my fingers as I secured the door and headed for my bedroom. I never liked turning on the overhead light; it was too obnoxious. Instead I opted for smaller lamps and hanging lights. Clicking the switch for the hanging lights, I shut my door and started unbuttoning my jeans.

It wasn’t until I was shimmying out of them that I turned back toward my bed.

“Holy fuck!” I threw my hands over my mouth.

“Shhhh,” Decker said, moving to sit up.

He was shirtless, in just his jeans…and barefoot. The man was barefoot, in my bedroom…in my bed.

“What are you doing here?” I pulled the rest of the denim material free of my legs then grabbed the same pair of sweats I’d worn the night Decker first showed up at my house.

His eyes narrowed again, just like they had then.

“Why do you have those?”

I ignored his mussed hair sticking up in all directions and the fact that he was in my freaking bed! I was totally going to smell my pillow as soon as he left.

“Why are you here?” I drew out the words, indicating that I wouldn’t be answering any of his questions without him first answering mine.

Finally, he let out a sigh and threw himself back on the bed.

My. Bed.

“I kind of need to sleep there. You gotta move,” I said after a few seconds of silence.

“I need you to come here.” His voice dipped, nearly shuddering with something I didn’t recognize but that pulled at something deep inside me. It reminded me of the storm we had gotten caught in, the vulnerability of seeing him in his childhood home.

Taking a step forward, I was nearly to the edge of my bed when I crossed my arms, protecting my chest. He was so handsome, so perfectly out of my league that it was painful to even acknowledge his existence.

“You need what?”

Fast as lightning, his hand shot out and grabbed me, pulling me on top of him. We rolled, and he was suddenly hovering over my body.

“I need to hold you tonight, Mallory. Don’t fight it, and I’m too fucking exhausted to explain it, but please just give me this.”

I swallowed, staring into those murky eyes of his, wondering how they shone with topaz colors in this lighting.

“And take these fucking sweats off.” His hand shoved the hem of the sweats down my hips, his fingers brushing against my skin, and suddenly I was fevered and desperate for more of what he’d given me that night in Elias’s room.

I hesitated, hating my physical reaction to him. He didn’t get to just come back into my life and suddenly demand things, not after he ghosted me for a week and humiliated me by ignoring every single text I’d sent. I knew I was being that girl who was demanding too much and I hated myself for it, but I was worth more than what he was offering. I was worth a text back. A heads-up. Something.

“You need to leave.” I kept my arms folded across my chest, looking up at the ceiling.

“No.” He let out a heavy sigh, settling into my side.

Frustration and something like relief sailed through me at a frantic pace. This wasn’t good for my heart.

“Decker, I’m serious. You’ve ignored me for an entire week and only came around once I said you could hang with Taylor…this is fucking crazy. You can’t be in my bed right now.”

His body shifted, curling around mine, pulling me closer to his chest.

“I know, and I need to explain myself. I know I do…but let me do it right. Let me look you in the eye and tell you how I feel without bedsheets between us.”

I laughed, rubbing my eye. “Great, then you can sleep on the floor, or go home and see me tomorrow.”

Was he shaking? His body seemed to vibrate next to me as he waited to respond. I was tempted to move my face so I could see his eyes. They always told me what his voice wouldn’t.

Finally, after a few silent beats, he breathed slowly through his nose. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him he should breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth.

“I know the right thing would be to do what you’re asking me to do. I know you deserve a gentleman who’d respect your space and what you’re asking…but I’m not a gentleman. I’m a devil, through and through. I can’t be away from you tonight. I need to feel your skin, hear your heart…feel the heat from your fucking breath…” He propped his head up on his elbow, looking down at me. “I’m not leaving you. I won’t touch you or do anything at all to you…I just need to be near you tonight.”

Well fuck.

Butterflies, pterodactyls, and fucking bats were set loose in my chest at his admission. I’d let the suckers fight it out while I turned away from him to get some sleep. I was past fighting him on this. I just wanted to forget.

“Fine.” I made a point to let out an irritated sigh. “But I’m keeping my sweats on.”

“I’ll literally cut them off your legs.”

God, the fire in his tone set me ablaze. I wanted to push him, see if he’d strip me and then challenge whether or not he’d touch me. I was a mess, a fucking too-hot kitchen on a too-hot day with no air. He’d ghosted me, and I needed to cling to my anger over his indifference toward me.

For starters, I would finish removing the damn sweats, but only because if he removed them or touched me in any way, I would beg him to do more than that. I just fucking would, and I hated myself for it. Slowly, I pushed the waistband over my hips and down my thighs until they were off. Then I settled into bed, feeling the warm sheets against my silky legs.

Decker seemed to settle into me. His arm went up under my neck, which allowed him to pull me close until I was twisted toward him. His bare chest was an inferno against me, but it was that place low in my belly that started to flare to life, going even farther down; my core ached for him to touch me. Even knowing he may have touched Taylor, even knowing he may be gone in the morning…I wanted him.

I brought my hand up, covering his firm chest, carefully running my finger down the lines and into the grooves of his impressive stomach. I kept touching him, listening to him breathe, feeling his own finger trail over my skin, back and forth like a lullaby. We were in sync with one another, rubbing, touching…breathing. In and out, up and down. There were words, stories, and songs in the prints we left on each other’s bodies. Mine spoke of desire, of how badly I wanted him, how I wished for him, and how I knew I could never have him.

His…well…every swipe of his finger over my arm was a tiny flame dancing on my skin. I wanted him to brave going lower, trace the curve of my hip, the dip in my back. The darkness seemed to settle around us, our breaths silent…and just when I thought we’d fall asleep or ignore everything that had happened—or hadn’t happened—between us since that night in his bedroom, he spoke up.

“Thank you for this.”

I kept my cheek plastered to his chest after his words rumbled under me. “Why did you need it?”

Seconds passed. More darkness. I was fighting sleep, batting and swatting it away as I waited for him to answer.

Finally, the pad of his finger brushed over the tattoo under my ear, just like it had that night in his house.

“This.” He applied pressure to the Nordic symbol under my lobe. “And I needed to know you were okay…” He trailed off, and I knew if I had been looking at his throat, I would have seen it bob.

“Why this?” I whispered, brushing my fingers over the ones he had fastened to my neck.

More time passed, more swipes of his finger against my skin and more moments for me to contemplate what on earth was going on here.

“You make me feel less lost. I saw you over those five days, that raggedy red hoodie, and suddenly it felt like I’d finally found a compass…a way to get back home.” That gruffness in his voice made every word seem like it had been dragged through gravel.

My throat was tight, tears clogging my eyes as I processed the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me. Then anger swept it all away.

“That doesn’t feel fair, Decker. You can’t say something like that, be here in my bed, and still try going after my stepsister.”

Another long pause met me as I ran my finger along the trail of hair drifting into the elastic band of his boxers.

“I need him to care that I’m with her. It’s…shit that’s from the past but affected me and still affects me. It’s just something I need to do.”

I began connecting the dots, seeing the bigger picture it created.

He wants revenge.

“The rumors…they aren’t true, are they?”

A shudder ran through him, and the hitch in his breathing was the only answer I needed to know Elias had done something horrible to Decker and the story I had heard about the two of them might not have been true.

“If you heard the same ones circulating the halls, about me hitting Elias on purpose or trying to attack him…no, that’s not how it went down at all.”

“Will you tell me about it?” I whispered, not wanting to ruin the flow of information coming from him.

“Someday…but for now, I just need you to understand that I want to hurt him in the only way I can.” His hand trailed down my body, that finger finally brushing against my hip, splaying along my thigh.

“By sleeping with Taylor?” The words hurt coming out, and I knew the answer would hurt even worse, but I had to face it. So did he.

Another painful pause, almost too long to be comfortable, passed between us. His fingers moving were the only indication that he was still awake.

“Just tell me. I already know the answer, but I need to hear you say it, and I think you need to hear you say it too.”

A huge swell of air left his lungs as his chest deflated. “I don’t know.”

“So, it’s not off the table then…” I didn’t phrase it as a question, because we both knew it wasn’t one.

“You knew, that night we met…that was my intention. Sleep with her, have him see it…ruin him.”

Pain pierced my chest, barreling into my stomach like a lightning bolt. I knew. He was completely right, but I just thought…

“I guess I thought you were just trying to date her.” I sounded small, almost childlike, unsure of why my voice wouldn’t work right.

“Nothing has changed from what I originally planned,” he whispered.

I believed him, but his hand was now firmly placed on my hip in a possessive way, sending me a mixed signal.

I whispered the only truth I knew to him and hoped he’d see it for what it was. “Everything has changed, Decker.”

Tears begged to be freed, and after the week I’d had where he pushed me away, I just wanted to let them free.

“I think you should go.” I was so damn proud there wasn’t a single shudder in my voice, nothing betraying that I had somehow fallen for him, regardless of knowing the deal.

“I can’t,” he replied roughly, like he was suppressing bigger emotions than I might realize.

I couldn’t help it. I blinked, and the flood gates opened. I turned away from him, out of his embrace, and let the pain flow from me, wishing and hoping that once I woke up, he’d be gone and so would the remaining feelings I had for him.