Outmatched: A Novel

by Kristen Callihan

  Rhys wouldn’t cheat. Right?

  And what I saw wasn’t cheating.

  Yet, he didn’t tell me he was going to meet some gorgeous blond for lunch today.

  You told your girlfriend that kind of thing, right?

  Feeling sick, I slumped against the cold concrete wall. We’d never talked about the status of our relationship since that night at Fairchild’s lodge. Obviously, somewhere down the line I’d started to think we were more than we were.

  But that didn’t seem right either.

  Even Rhys had admitted there was a connection.

  Oh God.

  Maybe he’d realized that connection was just physical after all and the blond was more his speed.

  If that was true, I had to believe Rhys would be up-front with me about it, right? That’s the kind of guy he was.

  Or so I’d thought.

  My phone suddenly beeped in my purse. Fingers trembling, I fumbled for it.

  HotHarley: Hey, Tink. Do you want to meet up tonight?

  I stared at Rhys’s text, confused as hell. Was he going to meet me to tell me it was over? Or would we meet and he wouldn’t say a word about the gorgeous blond?

  Whatever was going on with us, I wasn’t sure I was ready to face him. I texted back:

  ParkerB: Sorry. They need me to stay late at the office.

  I’d been investing myself emotionally into this relationship, but analyzing the last few weeks, I realized I had been doing that while Rhys had been locking me out emotionally, even if he was not pushing me away physically.

  I was going to get my heart broken.

  I knew it.

  The only way to soften that blow was to put some distance between me and Rhys Morgan.

  Tears burning my eyes, I stayed hidden in the corner of the parking lot until I was sure I could return to the office without crying.

  Rhys

  * * *

  “Thanks for inviting me over for dinner. This lasagna is delicious. Did you make this, Rosie?”

  “It’s Rose.” Big eyes, the exact light brown of Jake’s, stared back at me with a clear warning. I had to grin. God, she had his sass too.

  “Apologies, Rose.”

  She gave a small sniff as if to reluctantly accept my gaffe and then tipped her tiny chin in acknowledgment. Jake had done that exact chin tip countless times. For a moment, it hurt to breathe. It hurt so bad, my eyes burned.

  How could a person be missed so much, it was painful? I didn’t like it. Didn’t want this pain. It never fully went away. Some days it would dull, but then moments like this brought it all back. Part of me wanted to jump up and get my ass out of the house.

  I kept said ass in the chair and ate the damn lasagna.

  “So,” I prompted when I could speak without sobbing like a baby, “did you make it?”

  Rose’s nose wrinkled. “Mommy did. I don’t like cooking.”

  Given that she was five going on fifty, I had to admire her bluntness and gave her a chin tip of my own.

  From the other side of the small kitchen table, Marcy laughed, genuine love and happiness lighting her eyes. “She doesn’t like cleaning her room or doing her homework either. Big surprise, huh?”

  “She has homework?” I blinked in shock. “She’s frick—uh, she’s five.”

  “I’m not a baby,” Rose pointed out in that very Jake-like “screw you” way. “Big kids have homework.”

  Marcy grinned, toying with her wineglass stem. “They have worksheets for math and reading assignments.”

  Personally, I was happy my kindergarten class focused on Reading Rainbow and sharing time. I told them so and got a scowl from Rose and a laugh from Marcy.

  “Amen to that,” Marcy said, raising her glass.

  I clinked mine to hers, and though I still felt the pain of Jake’s absence, there was something good about being here. They were a family, these two precious females. There was love in this house that Jake and I had restored years ago. Contentment.

  Coming here had been the right thing to do; I’d been away for too long. I had wanted to ask Parker to join us, but she’d been distant and busy when I’d texted.

  “What’s that frown about?” Marcy’s question pulled me back to the present.

  “Was I frowning?” I reached for the bowl of salad. Since training had resumed, I was hungry all the time. All the freaking time. Hungry for food. Hungry for sex.

  No. Don’t think about sex at the table. Bad idea, Morgan.

  Marcy tipped her head and examined me. “Well, I’d have called it pouting, but I didn’t think you’d appreciate that.”

  I laughed. “No, I wouldn’t have.” With a sigh, I sat back. “I’ve got a lot on my mind is all.” I glanced at Rose, then shut my mouth.

  Marcy followed the action. “Rose,” she said to her child, who was basically stabbing her food with a fork but no longer eating. “If you’re done, you can put your plate in the sink and go play.”

  Rose immediately jumped up, nearly knocking over her milk in the process. While I righted the glass, she grabbed her plate and turned to go, but then paused. “When you’re done talking to Mommy, do you want to play Minecraft with me?”

  Warmth spread through my chest. “Sure. But you gotta promise that you’ll protect me from those blockhead zombie things.”

  Her nose wrinkled as she smiled. “You’re a weirdo.”

  “Takes one to know one, kid.”

  We made faces at each other, and then she scampered off, heading for the family room.

  “God,” I said. “She’s just …”

  “Like Jake?” Marcy supplied with a tinge of sadness. But her eyes were lit with love. “I know. I see it more every day.”

  A lump filled my throat, and I swallowed hard. Earlier, when I’d met Marcy for coffee, I’d planned to tell her everything but found I couldn’t do it. The words got stuck in my mouth, filling it up like cotton. All I could do was reminisce about Jake and hug her when it became too hard for both of us.

  But this? It’s another level. I would rather be punched in the face, frankly. Yet here I was, ready to confess.

  “So,” she asked. “What’s up?”

  “I met someone.” Okay, so I wasn’t ready to confess about the fight.

  “You?” Marcy’s brows lifted high.

  “Yeah, me. What’s with the face?” But I knew. Marcy, Jake, and I had grown up together. She was the sister I’d never had; Marcy could read me like a well-worn book.

  She laughed, the sound uncomfortable yet hopeful. “It’s just … It’s you, Rhys. You’ve never been involved with a woman.” She paused and peered at me. “We are talking about a woman, right? You’re not yanking my chain and it turns out you really meant you met a good accountant and want to recommend him, right?”

  “Jesus, Marse.” I rubbed my tight neck with a laugh. “You’re that skeptical I’d commit to someone? And, yes, I’m talking about a woman.”

  She shrugged then grinned wide. “So, the mighty Rhys has fallen.”

  This time, when I smiled, it felt hopeful too. “I guess I have.”

  “Tell me about her.” Marcy followed this command with a pinch to my arm that had me yelping.

  “Easy, woman.” I rubbed my arm but was unable to keep the smile off my face. “What to say…?” I tapped my chin, stalling, but when Marcy made a move to pinch me again, I held up my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Her name is Parker. She’s … different.”

  “Different,” Marcy repeated.

  “She’s quirky. Cute. She wears these preppy dresses that cover her from neck to knee.” But turned me on like nothing had before; I kept that part to myself. “She’s wicked smart. Like Harvard smart. Technically, MIT smart. She gives me shit for everything but only recently started to cuss. Can you believe it? The woman wouldn’t so much as say damn.”

  I laughed at the memories of Parker struggling not to curse when ticked off. “She’s an environmentalist. Recycles everything. Hates my car, though I’m p
retty sure she’s faking that. But she can’t hide her love for my bike. She does this thing when she laughs. Her nose wrinkles and her cheeks plump up like a chipmunk’s …”

  Damn, it was cute when Parker full-out laughed. Especially when she was in my bed. Shit, I missed her.

  “Oh my god.” Marcy put a hand to her chest and gaped at me. “You’re in love!”

  “What?” My entire body twitched. “No. I… we’ve just started. It’s … I care about her, sure, but—”

  “But nothing,” Marcy cut in with glee. “Look at you. You’re going on about her chipmunk smile and her clothes. Her clothes, Rhys. And not in a ‘she wears sexy clothes that make me hot’ kind of dude-bro way.”

  “Dude-bro?” I huffed. “And her clothes are sexy.”

  Marcy spread her arms as if to say she rested her case. “Guys don’t notice stuff like that unless they’re totally gone on a girl.”

  I leveled her a long look but then folded like a card tower. “Fine. I’m into her, yeah? I really like this girl. But love?” No. No. No. Love was … pain. It was loss. Your parents. Your best friend.

  Jesus. The mere thought of Dean dying on me made my breath grow thin and fast.

  I couldn’t love Parker. I could enjoy my time with her. But love? No. Because one day, I might be like Marcy, sitting alone at my kitchen table, wishing Parker was with me with all my heart and …

  Fuck.

  I rubbed my chest and swallowed convulsively. A soft hand on my free one had me turning to face Marcy. Understanding lit her eyes.

  “It’s good that you found someone to care about, Rhys.” I didn’t miss the emphasis on care. She was throwing me a bone. I caught it and nodded like my heart wasn’t trying to tear itself out of my chest.

  “How did you meet?”

  Right there. That was my limit on evasion. “Funny thing …” I took a deep breath and started to tell Marcy the whole story. Her eyes got bigger as I explained.

  “You’re going to lose the gym?”

  “Either that or I have to sell it. Neither option appeals to me.”

  “But … how? You’re so responsible with everything.”

  I looked away. From the other room came the puffs and clangs of Rose’s video game. I could see a slice of the couch and her small legs swinging back and forth as she played. She moved like a kid who hadn’t a care in the world. But I knew she suffered nightmares now and then. She’d scream out for her daddy, even though she’d only been two when he died. When Marcy told me that, it just about killed me.

  I rubbed my chest again. “My dad. He …” I forced myself to meet her worried gaze. “You know he liked to gamble.”

  Understanding dawned. “Oh God. Rhys. It was when he gambled on Jake, wasn’t it?”

  She might as well have kicked me in the chest. I flinched, the air rushing out of me. “You knew about that?”

  I felt sick. Pushing my empty plate back, I rested my face in my hands and tried to breathe.

  Her gentle voice broke through the darkness. “Your dad visited me before he died. He confessed what he’d done and apologized.”

  “Fuck.” I rubbed my aching jaw and looked up. “I’m sorry, Marse. I didn’t want you to deal with that.”

  “But why?” She looked genuinely confused. “It wasn’t your mistake.”

  “Jake was my friend. My dad took advantage of him. I don’t …” I blew out a harsh breath. “It feels like my mistake too.”

  Suddenly, Marcy was at my side, wrapping her slim arm around me. “No, Rhys. No, it wasn’t.”

  “I should have seen how bad Dad was getting.”

  “He was your dad,” Marcy insisted. “You weren’t responsible for him.”

  I grabbed her hands and held them in mine. “Marcy, you don’t understand. Jake, he knew Dad had bet on him that night. He knew that Dad had everything riding on him.” My vision blurred, and I blinked hard. “He knew, and I think it distracted him.”

  Marcy blew out a breath and rested her forehead on mine. “Rhys. It was a bad hit. It could have happened to anyone. Please,” she whispered. “Please, for me. Don’t put this on yourself. Let it go.”

  After all she’d been through, I couldn’t deny her anything. But letting it go wasn’t easy. My guilt wanted to remain sitting on my shoulders. It had been years, and the burden had become a beast of its own. Marcy wanted me free of it. Dean wanted me free. Parker wanted me free. I could do that for them, for myself.

  I closed my eyes and felt it melt away. Lightness expanded in my chest and lifted my shoulders. I squeezed Marcy’s hand, so damn grateful that I had people like her in my life. Not for the first time, I wished Parker were here to meet her. I had a feeling they’d become fast friends.

  We sat like that for a while until she eased away and met my gaze. “If you need money …”

  I lurched back. “No, absolutely not.”

  Her mouth firmed. “I have some left from the life insurance.”

  “No!” I stood and paced, trying to calm my voice. “No, Marcy. I appreciate the offer, but I’m never taking money from you. And I don’t need it.” When she started to protest, I told her the rest of the story, including the fight and the sponsors that had come from it. “That’s why I came here,” I said. “To let you know that I was boxing again. To … I don’t know …”

  I looked down at my feet, suddenly feeling foolish.

  “To get my permission?” she asked with a small smile. “You know you don’t need that.”

  “It just felt wrong, doing this, getting back into the ring without talking to you. I don’t have Jake anymore. You’re like his representative or something.”

  She laughed lightly. “You’re kind of adorable, Rhys Morgan.”

  I shot her a glare, but she only smiled wider.

  “You are. You care so much, with your whole heart.” Marcy hugged me. I stood there, wooden and unable to move. But she didn’t seem to mind. She only hugged me tighter. “You give everything to protect the people you love. But you have no idea how to protect this, do you?” She pressed her hand to my thudding heart.

  I could only stare down at her and shake my head dully.

  Marcy searched my face. “What’s really bothering you about this, Rhys?”

  “I’m afraid.” The words tore out of me without permission. I winced, humiliated at the truth.

  “Afraid of what?” she asked softly.

  My mouth just kept spewing. “Afraid of getting hit like Jake, leaving Dean behind, and now Parker …” I bit my lip to shut myself up and turned my head away from Marcy’s knowing gaze. Boxers weren’t supposed to fear. It was an anathema to the sport.

  “So,” she said thoughtfully, “you came here tonight to see how Rose and I were getting on without Jake, didn’t you? To see if we were suffering as much as you feared.”

  Blood rushed in my ears as I nodded, still unable to face her.

  “We’re okay, Rhys. Yes, we miss Jake. But death is a part of life.” Her fingers found my chin and gently guided my face back. Her blue eyes were glassy as she peered up at me. “It happens to all of us at some point. But if you don’t let anyone in, you’re never going to fully enjoy living.”

  I exhaled, battered inside, but couldn’t speak.

  “What do you want out of life, Rhys?”

  “What Jake had. A family. A home.”

  I wanted to tend to my gym, teach kids the art of boxing, then come home and make dinner for the brilliant girl with the biggest, prettiest brown eyes I’d ever seen.

  The realization stuck in my throat and pushed at my chest until I made a sound of distress. Marcy gave me a sympathetic squeeze. “Then go get it, Morgan.”

  By the time I left Marcy’s house, I felt pulled thin as rice paper. One wrong move and I’d tear. Ordinarily, when I got like this, I ran, no matter the time or the weather. I’d run through my problems, push my body to the limits of exhaustion, and then fall into a deep sleep, dead to the world.

  But I didn’t want th
at now. I wanted to see Parker.

  Problem was, she wasn’t answering her phone. Or texts.

  Doubt began to niggle at the pit of my aching stomach. She always answered. Always. My doubt turned to fear when I thought of who I’d been antagonizing lately. Would that fuck Fairchild actually harm her? Ice coated my gut as I hopped on my bike and drove to Parker’s condo.

  It was pouring rain, and I was thoroughly soaked by the time I got there. I rubbed the rain out of my eyes to clear my vision and headed for the stairs, forgoing the elevator, needing to run, needing to get to her as fast as I could. No one answered when I banged on the door. My fear turned to dread.

  “Parker!” I shouted. “Are you there? Open up!” My shouts rang through the hallway, sounding more than a little desperate. “Parker! Don’t scare me like this. I need to know you’re okay.”

  Movement sounded on the other side of the door, and finally—finally—she opened the door. My body sagged in relief, and I stormed in, hauling her close and hugging her tight.

  “Jesus, Tink,” I rasped. “You scared the hell out of me. Why didn’t you answer your phone? Or the door?” She felt stiff in my arms, and I realized I was probably freezing her. I stepped back but kept a hold of her upper arms. “Were you sleeping?”

  Her eyes were puffy and her face blotched. But she shook her head and stood like a plank of wood staring at me as though she’d never seen me before. “I was … distracted,” she finally said.

  Distracted? The uncomfortable pinch of doubt returned to my gut.

  “I’m getting your floor all wet,” I said.

  Water dripped from the ends of my hair and ran over my face. But I didn’t let go of Parker. I feared if I did, she’d somehow be lost to me. A ridiculous idea, but I couldn’t shake it. Not with the cold and withdrawn way she stared back at me.

  “Why are you here, Rhys?” Her voice was thick and stilted.

  “What do you mean, why? You’re my girl.” My throat felt constricted. This whole night was off, filled with too much emotion that I didn’t want to face. “I needed to see you.”