Page 18 of Wild Card

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 poundingon 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?”

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