by Ashley Munoz
The walls were too close, the smells too intense. Suddenly I was seeing my dad on that couch with my mom, his arm wrapped around her, laughing at the television…his hands playing with her hair in that way he’d done my entire life.
I knew deep down that my mother was just heartbroken. She was hurt in a way I didn’t understand. She couldn’t function, and I needed to let her go through it, but I missed her. Kyle missed her. I needed her to come out of this pit of grief and be my mom again. I needed her to sell this house and let us start over. Together.
“Well, maybe we can go over it some other time,” I muttered, looking down at the worn carpet at my feet. Wrestling matches with my dad had taken place right where I was standing.
“You headed out?” Kyle asked.
I knew he needed me to stay, if not for mom…for him. But…I couldn’t.
“I’m headed over to Westfield, if you wanna come with?” I turned my neck toward the door. Kyle gave me a knowing look and dropped his head, letting the peas drop on the counter.
“Yeah, I’ll come.”
We both kissed our mom on the cheek then loaded up some blankets in the back of my truck. After stopping for a six-pack of beer and food from 7-11, we drove over to the opposite side of town.
Kyle carried the food and drinks while I carried the blankets. Then we set our things down around the moon-white headstone under the weeping willow.
“You seemed off tonight.” My younger brother looked over at me from his place beside Dad’s grave.
I put my arms behind my head and watched the stars, thinking of the incident…what I had said to that girl, what I had felt. I was more pissed about that than losing Taylor Beck. My entire plan had hinged on the information my little brother had delivered to me last week, after learning of the meeting Elias had called at that fucking restaurant. The Devils never met outside of our team house for upcoming games, yet the night I was actually free and available to attend, he’d changed the location, so I missed it. Fucker.
Regardless, I still learned that he had made plans to break his one rule by joining the game himself.
The Devils played this stupid-as-fuck game where four team members chose four women to hand out a card to. Your game stats and rankings allowed you to choose which base and which girl you picked. It was stupid, but it was also tradition. It was supposed to act as a carrot on a string, making each player do their best so they’d get the high card. Elias Matthews, team captain and motherfucker extraordinaire, had never played a card.
He helped keep track of the games, the players, the roster, and the ranks. He’d never played. Not even for a first or second base card.
Before the incident the previous year, he would joke about how he wouldn’t be risking a night of fun for a girl who’d poke a hole in the condom. So, when I learned that he’d not only chosen a girl but was playing the high card on her—I couldn’t help myself.
I wanted her, and I wanted him to walk in on me burying my dick inside her.
The only details I could gather before the game were that her name was Taylor Beck, she was shallow as fuck, and she drove a white Beemer.
I figured it would be fine, seeing as she had her card and would arrive in the room before me, but no. I had to fuck that up too.
I didn’t usually share things like that with my brother, but something had me spilling the entire story to him—about my pathetic attempt at revenge then seduction.
“What a shitshow.” Kyle laughed, popping a taquito in his mouth.
“Yeah…” The chill in the air was a stark reminder of how much time had gone by since our dad had passed. Time just kept going, regardless of how much we wanted it to stop or slow down, to just let us get used to life without him…but time just kept flipping us the bird.
“So, why are you just trying to bang her?” Kyle turned on his side, watching me.
Was it morbid that we came out here and spent time on our dad’s gravesite? Maybe…but the groundskeeper, Joe, was a good guy and had actually known our dad as he’d coached Joe’s son in little league. So, we were allowed to come here whenever we wanted, as long as we weren’t doing anything shitty.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just…if Elias is really doing with this girl what we read in the report, you need to do more than just bang her…you need to completely fuck this up for him. Hit him where it counts,” he clarified, sounding much more mature than his sixteen years.
I considered it for a second. The report in question explained a plethora of deplorable things our Uncle Scotty had dug up for us. Ever since that night on the field, he’d gotten involved, and I was unsure why Elias wasn’t six feet underground right now. Scotty didn’t exactly deal in ethics or morals, but we didn’t ask or judge. He’d gotten enough dirt on the guy to build a fucking baseball field.
“You know I don’t really like her, right?”
Kyle laughed. “Duh, dumbfuck, but you’re playing her regardless—might as well play an ace, right?”
I thought it over again, considered what kind of damage that could do to E if I was actually dating Taylor.
“It would fuck with him…” I trailed off, watching the stars.
We both sat in silence, but my mind kept wandering back to the moment I opened that door and saw her standing in that room.
I hadn’t ever been in love, not that I knew of, but the punch to my chest when I saw her wasn’t something I’d ever forget. My eyes greedily drank in her luscious curves, her round ass, and those fucking breasts…full, real…perfect. She was all woman and entirely perfect.
I remembered, up close, I could see her eyes were forest green with tiny specks of gold from the reflection of the light in the room. She had a cluster of freckles across her nose, splattered along her cheeks, with just one above her left eyebrow. She was beautiful. The kind of beauty that would take years to fully appreciate, and even longer to fully discover. The kind you’d want to wake up to every day, the kind you’d want to see in your kids and their kids. The forever kind.
I couldn’t seem to forget the way her hands fit against my chest, the way their warmth seemed to spread into the icy cavern that existed under my skin…it was enough to make my breath hitch.
I tried not to kiss her bowlike lips, but the closer I got, the more entranced I became. The way her reddish brown hair glowed under the lights…
“Duggar, where’d you go?” Kyle asked, waving a hand in front of my face from where he laid beside me. The stars came in and out of focus as I laughed. I was being ridiculous. This wasn’t going to work out for me; it wasn’t like I could get the girl in the end. I was Frankenstein now. Rumors swirled about me around school, my hand was a jagged mess, and I had pennies to my name. I’d lost the scouts; no one wanted me. I wasn’t headed anywhere, and mostly everyone knew it.
“I’m here…just thinking about what I’m going to do,” I lied.
I was still completely consumed by a pair of green eyes and russet hair. If I ever did see her again, she’d likely kick me in the balls on sight. She was like one of the stars shooting overhead, beautiful but fleeting…not someone who would ever last or be a part of my life.
Chapter Eight
The pounding on my bedroom door was aggressively unique. The person on the other side drummed out a staccato beat from a Mariachi song. I pulled the covers over my face and groaned into the sunlight that had slipped in between my blinds.
“Mal, wakey-wakey!” an obnoxious voice yelled through the door.
I knew that voice, I adored that voice…but today was just too early to deal with him. I threw my pillow at the door, as if it could hurt him or tell him to go jump off a cliff.
“I know you just threw something toward me—that’s rude, Mallory Nicole!”
“You are abusing the key I had made for you!” I yelled before tossing the covers back and gingerly crawling out of bed. Why hadn’t I drunk anything the night before to at least give purpose to the pounding in my head or the thudding pain in
my chest?
I blinked against the bright hallway and briskly poked my head through Taylor’s open doorway. Her room was empty, which meant she probably had asked Gareth to come get her the previous night. I’d have to text her later to make sure.
“She lives!” Juan sang out from the kitchen, where he had a dish towel tossed over his shoulder.
“Barely,” I replied, scratching at my head, realizing a little too late that I still wore just my underwear and a black camisole.
A loud appreciative whistle sounded between what I believed was the fridge and where I was standing.
“Ouch, Juan. Holy shit, what’s wrong with you!” I covered my ears.
“Open your eyes, Mal, and stop being such a baby. Explain this look. Right the fuck now,” he ordered from his spot at the sink. Juan was always flirty, which always lightened the mood in the room. I’d met him during one of my philosophy classes two years earlier, and we’d been sharing coffee every Saturday morning ever since.
I blinked open my bleary eyes, wishing I could just shut them again and go back to bed.
“Why are you here so early?” I reached for a Danish he must have brought with him. No way in hell Taylor had purchased the white box of delicious fluffy bread.
“You first.”
He bit into a pastry, giving me a sexy smirk.
His eyes hadn’t stopped roving over my form—or its lack of clothes. Juan was one of my best friends, completely platonic, but he liked to give me shit when I actually found a way to look attractive. I could count on one hand the number of times he had given me that look. I really needed to start putting in more effort.
With a sigh, I sank into the stool and took a bite from the Danish.
“I went to a team party last night…it’s a bit of a long story, but let’s just say Taylor can never know what I’m about to tell you.” I paused mid-bite and narrowed my eyes. “Ever.”
Juan paused his chewing as well, his eyebrows rising in curiosity.
I moved on, taking another bite. “Anyway, the guy I almost banged ended up walking out on me and telling me I ruined everything.”
The truth tasted bitter on my tongue, ruining the cherry taste left behind by the pastry.
“I’m sorry.” Juan choked on his food. “You looked like that”—he waved his arm at me, crumbs flying toward my face—“and he walked out, saying you ruined everything?”
I sighed. “Yes. It wasn’t great for my ego, in case you were worried.”
My best friend bent over the counter, laughing. Some of his food flew from his mouth, making me tilt backward on the stool.
“Juan, seriously?”
“I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat, grabbing for water. “Was the dude gay?”
“How am I supposed to know? He essentially went down on me, was about to fuck me, but stopped with his hand on his zipper.” I banged my head against the counter a few times.
“He went down on you?” Juan ran the water at the sink for a second before turning. “How was it?”
I lifted my head with a smile I couldn’t hold back.
“That good huh?” He whistled again.
“He knew exactly what he was doing, Juan. Oh my god, and…he went, like…lower too.” I stood, moving toward the coffee machine.
“Lower?” He raised an eyebrow, following me with an empty mug.
“Lower, you know…like stuff we only see in porn.”
Juan choked on his food again. “I think we might be too comfortable in our relationship, but Mallory, my sweet flower, that is not just stuff you see in porn. Men and women eat ass all the time.”
Turned away from him, my eyes widened, and I was suddenly super interested in the warning label on my Keurig.
“I can see that I’ve somehow made you uncomfortable, so let’s move on.” He laughed, turning away from me. “Why aren’t we telling Taylor about you getting an orgasm?” Juan opened my fridge, knowing I’d want the creamer.
“How do you know I…”
“Because you look like you had the best orgasm of your life last night, and well, with what he did to you, it’s hard not to come from that.”
I blushed, feeling my face heat. Just thinking about his tongue inside me, his fingers moving, and that thumb he pressed…god. I needed a fan.
Clearing my throat, I shook the creamer. “I told her I wasn’t going to do anything with the guy…I just don’t want to hear anything about it from her since I gave her such a hard time about it.”
“Okay, but can we at least tell Hillary?” My friend sipped a glass of water while watching me fiddle with the coffee maker. I was doing everything backward today, as I realized too late. Juan noticed and thought it was hilarious.
“Of course we can tell Hillary—hell, she’ll probably die from laughter then I can have those strappy shoes of hers that I like,” I joked, finally getting the top of the machine to engage and shut.
I didn’t want it to slip that Hillary was the one who’d made me look so cute to begin with, or that she had been in on this entire thing from the beginning. Juan would feel left out. I explained the entire card situation and game and everything I had planned to do to my second best friend, watching as his face took on different expressions, until finally he let out a heavy sigh and asked, “So, this guy…who was he?”
Juan was a solid six feet tall with whiskey-colored eyes and dark brown skin. His hair was a deliciously soft black, almost like feathers, and it was always falling over his eyebrow or forehead. Hot was an understatement. He was drop-dead gorgeous, and I had wished a million times that we had any kind of chemistry, but we just didn’t.
“Elias Matthews?” I wrinkled my nose at the question in my tone, because it was stupid. I had no idea who he was, and he’d had his tongue on my nipples and on my mouth. He had kissed me, and something told me he wasn’t the type of guy to kiss on the lips. So why did he?
Juan spit his water out.
“Elias Matthews, as in the pitcher for the Devils?”
I shrugged. I still had no idea what position he played, and thanks to Elias’s dark and broody answers, I hadn’t gotten any real information about the freaking card game.
“Girl…that’s…” Dark hair fell into Juan’s eyes as he shook his head at me, as if I had done something wrong to make Elias ditch me in his bedroom.
“I know,” I muttered, totally irritated all over again. “He was hoping for Taylor…guess he only knew her by name or something because he thought I was her the entire time.”
“The entire time?”
“Yeah, until he asked what kind of car I drove…isn’t that a weird thing to ask?” I sipped my coffee, looking outside. The sun was bright, nearly zero clouds in the sky. The heat was already setting in, like a preheated oven. My mind raced with all the things I had to do. I needed to hit the gym before my shift at the bookstore, run by the bank, get gas, and go to the library to filter through school newspaper clippings from the last two decades.
Sigh.
It was going to be a long day.
“And you told him…?” My best friend waved his hand forward, waiting for me to answer.
This was the part I wanted to forget, because the reporter in me was disappointed in myself. How could I fuck up so horribly? He’d already assumed I was Taylor; the correct answer was supposed to be ‘white Beemer,’ but no. I’d messed up, because for two seconds there I had wanted the gorgeous man devouring me to want me, not her.
“I slipped” was all I admitted before fixing my coffee with more creamer. Creamer made everything better.
Juan just smiled at me with his straight white teeth and shook his head.
“Maybe he’s stalking Taylor, but hasn’t gotten a picture of her yet…but that’s a weird thing not to get first, ya know? Like, you should stalk someone based off their looks, then get into the other freaky stuff—what if they’re butt ugly? What a waste.” Juan licked the cherry filling off his fingers while shaking his head back and forth, like Elias not doin
g his research was a total disappointment to him.
“I don’t know…the entire card situation was weird to begin with. None of the girls knew who would be meeting them in the room. It’s entirely possible that the guys didn’t either, at least not beyond name.” I shrugged, still itching to investigate.
“I agree that Taylor probably shouldn’t know about it, but do you think she’s in trouble, or in any danger?” My best friend’s voice softened with concern.
“I didn’t get the dangerous vibe from this guy…more like he was planning on something and I had ruined whatever the plan was, but not in a ‘kidnap you and bury your body way’…more like a ‘I wanted to surprise you with a new car’ kind of way.”
“Well, just be careful—both of you.” He pointed his finger while grabbing his cell phone. “If you guys need a temporary roommate, you know I’m down.” He leaned in for a peck on the cheek. Right as he pulled away, he smiled and said, “As long as it comes with the chance to share a room.” He headed for the front door with a quick, flirty wink.
I followed him, crossing my arms and feeling like I was wading through sludge. Damn high heels had killed my feet.
“Wait—you didn’t mention why you were here so early.” I held the door after he’d opened it.
He shrugged his shoulders, a bright smile meeting me as I waited for him to explain, but he didn’t. He just watched me, then when he was about to leave, he asked, “If this guy hadn’t stopped, if he hadn’t been a complete dick and ruined it…do you think you would have wanted to see him again?”
The question caught me off guard, mostly because I hadn’t considered the what-ifs. They were always too painful to take into consideration. Ever since Taylor had entered my life, I stopped thinking about ‘what if.’
“I don’t know…” I shrugged.
Juan’s brown eyes narrowed on me with a seriousness I hadn’t seen from him in a long time.
“Let’s just say he did it, all right. The next day he took you to breakfast and called to set up another date. Would you go?”