Page 56 of Wild Card

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 onDancing with the Starsor 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 wasbarefoot, 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.

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