Page 29 of Wild Card

He watched me, every second turning more and more intense. It was like I’d just turned him down or said no to something, and that was just strange. How hard was it to confirm that you actually cared about someone and wanted a real shot at having a date with them?

“Okay” was all he replied with. I resisted the urge to walk over and punch him in the arm.

“What’s in it for me then?” I needed to stay focused on the idea that he’d serve up this story on a silver platter, regardless of the fact that I wanted to cry because he was here to get a shot with my stepsister, the girl who got every guy. Memories of my junior and senior years of high school came back like a punch to the throat. So many guys had pretended to get close to me, when in the end they either wanted my dad’s money or my stepsister.Never me.

“Whose sweats are those?”

His right finger lifted just the smallest bit, pointing toward my legs.

I stared at him. He stared back. What in the hell was with this guy? He’d clammed up about Taylor but couldn’t stop asking me weird questions.

“Why?”

“Because that emblem on the side…it’s familiar.”

I ran my finger gently over the stitched hornet that fell at the hip. I wasn’t sure what the hornet situation was or what it meant to Juan, but I knew he was a sports guy and he had like five pairs of these sweats. He seemed to leave them everywhere. I knew Hillary had a pair at her house, maybe a pair in her car too.

I waited a few seconds to reply because I wanted to control the situation. This guy had been an ass to me both nights, and now he was here in my home, asking me about sweats when I had asked him point-blank about what was in our deal for me. I felt like he was toying with me, so I decided I’d toy right back.

“They belong to a guy.” I leaned forward. “Now, what’s in this for me?”

He looked like maybe he’d slammed his back molars down or ground them together. I couldn’t figure him out. He seemed to be all over the place.

“I’ll give you whatever answers you were trying to dig for that night.” His eyes were still on my sweats until he finally flicked them up to my resting bitch face. My knuckles pressed into the side of my head as I relaxed against my fist.

“I want info on the card game…a lot of info.”

His silky dark hair was covered by that hat, but I remembered how soft it felt, how good it felt under my fingers.

“I can answer anything about the Devils, whatever you want.” He waved off the question, keeping his gaze lowered.

“And in exchange, I talk you up to Taylor…get you a date, or invite you over and see if she warms up to your charming personality?”

He laughed, his white teeth flashing, but he smothered it with his hand.

“Something like that. I want her to give me a real shot.”

Painful heat seared my chest, but I ignored it.

“Deal.” The sooner we were done with each other, the better. “The only condition I have is that you don’t hurt her…physically or emotionally.” I held up my finger toward his face like I was telling him off. “And don’t fuck where I eat or sit.”

He shuddered, his eyebrows drawing in tight. “Who the fuck does that?”

I smiled at him, standing and needing him out of my space so my stupid idiot heart would stop trying to convince all the other parts of my body that we liked him.

“Taylor does. Frequently.” I leaned forward to open the door, despite the fact that he was still sitting. “I’ll meet you tomorrow at the bookstore on Fifth. There’s a small coffee shop inside.”

Decker sat, watching me and waiting like he wanted to say something else.

“So, you’ll meet with me, I’ll give you info, and then we’ll figure out a way for me to start hanging around Taylor?” he clarified. He still sat in the chair, his greenish eyes dancing with amusement.

I heaved a sigh.

“Yes. We meet first, let me get some notes on the game. We will probably only need to meet three or four times to get the information I need for my story…and at those meetings, we can schedule playdates for you and Taylor.”

His eyes narrowed, those gorgeous lips pressing together in a way that told me he didn’t like the term playdate being used. Whatever.

Finally, he stood and moved until he was towering over me. I could smell his spicy, woodsy cologne, and just like that night, I wanted it to wrap around me until I couldn’t breathe.

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