Wild Card: A College Sports Romance (Rake Forge University Series Book 1)

by Ashley Munoz

  I was actually itching to go browse the selection and see what new books might be in. I was a closet book nerd, something I didn’t share with many people, but the second a new Sanderson or Rothfuss novel was available, I was front and center for a copy. It was something my dad had made me do at a young age. He had started my love for reading by taking me to the library during story time then letting me get lost in stacks too mature for my age, letting me read things that would keep me up far past my bedtime, always sneaking me a flashlight to read by.

  The front door of the bakery opened, a soft bell jingling as it swayed shut. Mallory’s hair was the first thing I saw, its reddish brown coloring at odds with the golden sun snatching the highlights in her strands and broadcasting them to anyone who was watching. And I was watching. I couldn’t stop.

  Her unruly hair was braided into a crown on top of her head, taming some of her raw features, making her seem demure…sweet. It didn’t fool me; I knew a tiger lay beneath her skin, something with teeth and claws. That beast didn’t even compare to the one I had discovered that night in Elias’s bedroom. The way she’d tugged at my hair and arched her back…the way she had cared that we stopped… I still didn’t know if it was just the rebuff from someone on the Devils or if she’d actually felt anything when I put my hands on her body, but there had been something there when I pulled away and she realized we wouldn’t go any further.

  It was dangerous that I wanted to know. It was territory I needed to stay away from.

  “Decker.” Mallory gave me a thin smile while sliding into the spot across from me.

  I gave her a genuine grin, unable to hold back. I liked seeing her in the daylight…I liked seeing her period.

  “I’ve never been here before. It’s a pretty cool place,” I said, gesturing toward the bookstore at her back.

  She didn’t even turn to look, which made me curious about her reading habits. I liked girls who read. A silly, very stupid dream of mine was to wander around a bookstore, hand in the back pocket of the girl I was with, her nose in a book, her thumbs running over the ivory pages while I searched for a classic.

  It was stupid.

  “The bakery has amazing cinnamon rolls.” She flicked those green eyes at me and gave me a real smile. It was reserved, maybe even a regret …like it was something she hadn’t meant to give away.

  “Can I order you one, maybe a coffee?” I asked, weirdly hopeful that she’d accept the offer.

  “No, I ate before I came.” She didn’t look up.

  “Okay…”

  “Let’s get started.” Her eyes stayed on the notebook in front of her, little strands of reddish-brown hair kissing her neck.

  “What do you want to know?” I moved my hands until they were under the table; otherwise I was going to brush those stray strands away, force her to look up, and let me see those eyes.

  “So, the games…when did they start? And this is all on the record, by the way.” She looked up quickly with another tight smile.

  “As far as we know, they’ve been going on for over fifty years, but there’s not really any proof of that. Just old letters and newspaper clippings—gossip and whatnot.”

  “Okay, so how does it get passed to the next generation?” She pressed her pen to the corner of her mouth, and those green eyes locked on mine with such curiosity that I wanted to drag out my answer just to keep her looking at me like that.

  “You saw underclassmen at the party, yes?”

  She blinked and leaned forward. “Yes…so?”

  “So, yeah. They deliver the cards, getting involved their first year, and then they participate their senior year and have already started the next graduating class on the game…and so it goes.” I waved my hand in a forward motion.

  The smell of cinnamon rolls permeated the air, and suddenly my stomach was screaming at me to try one. From the way Mallory’s nostrils flared and those eyes roamed toward the glass case of goodies, I knew she wanted one too.

  “Hang tight.” I stood and jogged over to the counter.

  I wished I knew how she took her coffee, but she’d have to settle for it black and the cinnamon roll. Once I paid, I took our coffees and the water bottle I had purchased for her and walked back to the table.

  A small blush crept into her face as she gently took the water from me.

  “You didn’t have to do that.” It was a tiny mumble quickly followed by her twisting the cap on the water and tossing her head back to take a drink.

  I smiled. I didn’t want to sit there and argue about me buying shit. She had seemed irritated enough when I was in her living room the night before. Thinking of it had me thinking about when she’d opened the door, that black thong running between her luscious ass cheeks. Then there were those hockey sweats she wore, which had me wondering if she was seeing someone. Or maybe it was casual…though the only reason someone would leave sweats behind was if they took them off pretty regularly, right?

  She cut into my thoughts. “Okay, so it’s passed down…is it like its own fraternity then? I’ve heard the baseball team all lives in that house, but I also know there’s no official label for them.”

  I sipped the coffee, moving past the image of her with another guy, and instead thought of this deal we’d struck. I wished she would have considered who was offering the deal before agreeing. Beyond just finding her attractive, I actually liked this girl, and well…she deserved better than the terms I’d omitted from our deal.

  “It’s an unofficial fraternity that doesn’t have to play by any rules, doesn’t have to answer to anyone. They operate more as a secret society than anything, but there are members who don’t live in that house. You don’t know it because they like to make it seem like everyone is there, but not everyone agrees with what they do.”

  The high school girl walked over with a plate the size of my hand, a massive glazed cinnamon roll in the middle. My mouth watered.

  “Here you go.” She set it between us then dug in her apron for two forks like I had asked her to.

  I grabbed mine and dug in. The first taste melted in a buttery sweetness that made me groan in utter satisfaction.

  “Good, right?” Mallory smiled as she watched me. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip while her eyes danced with excitement, as if watching me taste this for the first time was the highlight of her entire day. It made something in my chest twitch.

  “Share it with me.” I ducked my head before pushing the plate toward her.

  She blushed again. “No, it’s okay.”

  “Come on, I know you want some.” I took another bite, groaning obnoxiously loud.

  “No…I’m trying to eat better, and that is definitely not better.” Her eyes stayed pinned to the paper in front of her while her nostrils flared.

  “Why? You’re perfect…is it a medical thing?” I raised an eyebrow.

  She had the most delicious curves I’d ever seen; there was no fucking way she wanted to lose any of that.

  “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  I paused mid-chew, watching her—unsure of what she was talking about. The expression I wore must have spoken for me, because she let out a small sigh before explaining.

  “You were pretty mean the other night, kicking me out, telling me I ruined everything. Then the parking lot…”

  Right, shit. I had been a bit of an asshole.

  “I’m sorry about that…I guess I should have apologized for that last night.” I felt my face heat like I was in middle school again.

  “So why did you do it then?”

  I tried to ignore how cute she was when her head tilted to the side like she was trying to figure me out.

  “I was just mad…at the situation and the reason I was there. It’s complicated, but it wasn’t about you.”

  “I thought maybe it was something I did, or…just the way I didn’t look like her.”

  I choked on the sweet, sticky dough in my throat. Was she serious?

  “No, definitely not anything you did
. I was…uh…” I rubbed the back of my neck. I knew I shouldn’t say this, but… “I was definitely enjoying myself, but the questions you were asking tipped me off.”

  She brought her hands to her face and laughed. “I should have known.”

  I smiled, loving the shade of pink her face had turned. I briefly considered what it would take to make her do it again so I could sneak a picture. Would that be creepy? Probably.

  “So, tell me why you don’t want part of this delicious cinnamon roll.”

  “It’s just…a personal thing.” She tucked those loose strands behind her ears.

  I chewed, watching her closely. I’d been in enough nutrition, sports medicine, and psych classes to know this was probably deeper than I even knew, and it was also her own shit to sort through. Not my business.

  “The other night…was that your first time participating?” She meekly transitioned us back to the topic at hand.

  I nearly choked again just thinking of her that night, those perfect tits fitting perfectly in the palm of my hand.

  Fucking hell.

  If I kept thinking about it, I was going to get more than a semi here in this little bookshop café.

  “Yeah…it was.” I let my eyes roam down her form, not hiding the fact that I liked what I was seeing.

  Her green eyes, those freckles sprinkled under those dark lashes, and those full lips that were currently pinned between her white teeth all said she was remembering too.

  “Was that your first time participating?” I returned the question, hoping like hell none of my teammates had ever had their hands on her.

  She laughed and nodded her head. “Yeah, definitely.”

  “Why is it so shocking to ask if that was your first time?”

  “You don’t know me, but I’m not exactly the partying type. I’m usually working on the weekends, or writing for the paper, maybe reading…but parties? Not so much.”

  I fucking liked her. I liked her a lot. “So, you were only there for the article then?”

  “Yep. I wasn’t even invited, but…uh…you already knew that part.” Her face flushed red again. “There were a few guys who seemed to play specific roles in the game—do you know about any of those?”

  I wanted to press her about the topic we should have both been avoiding, but right as I was about to talk, the front door opened, and in walked Elias Matthews.

  He was on the phone, that gleaming, brand new device shoved up against his face. His eyes flitted toward me, then to Mallory. They lingered on her, traveling down her form, over her hair and down her shirt while he talked to whoever it was on the other end of the call, then he smirked and walked past our booth.

  “Who is that guy?” Mallory leaned forward, dipping her pointer finger into a glop of frosting that had fallen onto the plate. Her face was so much closer now that I almost met her halfway to taste that white sugar on her lips.

  “Remember the guy I pretended to be?”

  “Elias something?” she whispered, leaning closer.

  “Yeah.” I peeked over my shoulder, only to return to find her sucking more frosting from her finger.

  “Sorry.” She laughed, wiping at her face.

  My jeans felt too tight as I watched her pink tongue dart out and lick the cream from her fingers. Her eyes closed as she let out a little moan, and two other guys sitting nearby turned to look at her. My hard-on pressed against my zipper, and I wanted to take her right there. But fuck, it was more than that…I also didn’t want them looking at her or thinking about her. She was a vision in that green shirt she had on, the gold jewelry…and I just wanted to tell them they couldn’t have her. No one could.

  “Anyway, he’s the head pitcher for the team…kind of a big deal according to anyone in the baseball world.” I moved on from the frosting. I had to, or else I was going to lean over and do something I shouldn’t.

  “The competition,” she murmured, writing something down in her journal.

  I crinkled my eyebrows together in confusion. “What do you…”

  “He wants Taylor, you want her…” She moved her hand, pointing the pen back and forth between E and myself. “He’s your competition.”

  No, he wasn’t. I didn’t want whoever Taylor was. He could have her; I just wanted him to pay for ruining my career.

  “Right…yeah.” I cleared my throat and moved to stand.

  I suddenly didn’t want to be in the same room as Elias, especially not with the way Mallory kept glancing between where he was standing and where we were sitting. Did she think he was attractive? Most chicks did, but for some reason the idea of her thinking that way about him soured my stomach.

  “We’re just getting started…I…” She began to argue with her hands out and eyes wild, but I cut her off.

  “We’ll get together again soon. In the meantime, text me anything you think of for your article.” I grabbed her pen from her hand and jotted down my number in her notebook, unsure why my stomach knotted at the idea of her having it…or if she’d use it.

  Shit, this wasn’t a good idea. If I knew what was good for me, I’d ditch this deal, come clean, and cut ties. But even as I walked away, there was a part of me that wanted to turn around and see if she was still there. A part of me wondered if she’d use the number I’d given her, and the other part wanted to ghost her. I didn’t deserve someone like her. She seemed like someone good and full of dreams, someone happy and still untainted by life. Sometimes I wished I wasn’t a devil, because she was the kind of girl who deserved someone who’d never put her through hell. With me it was practically a guarantee.

  “How is your devious plan coming along?” my kid brother asked from his spot behind the lawnmower. I was impressed that he’d actually taken the initiative to cut the grass. Usually, he waited for me to come on the weekends to do it.

  “Uh…I think there’s some hope for it.” I smiled, thinking of my meeting with Mallory. I refused to acknowledge that I was smiling because of her. It was merely her cooperation with my ridiculous plan that had me grinning like an idiot.

  “Sweet. You know, we could totally nail him for some of the endorsement shit he’s been accepting since he hasn’t graduated yet.” My brother wiped his face with the shirt he’d taken off an hour earlier and tucked it into his back pocket.

  “Nah…not worth it. I don’t want him to think we’re onto him.” Scotty had shared a piece of information with both of us regarding Elias and I was currently in the process of exploiting it, but if he looked in my direction at all, it would all be fucked.

  Kyle sidled up to me, abandoning the yard. “I saw Elias driving out of the physical therapy office the other day.”

  I stopped with my hand on the engine, watching my brother, silently encouraging him to continue even if what he’d seen didn’t exactly confirm anything.

  “He’s supposedly only seeing one here in Pinehurst…that way no one at RFU knows,” Kyle continued, his hands tapping out a rhythm on the frame of the car. My little brother worried me just a little bit. He’d grieved our father’s passing, but instead of leaning into the things he knew would make Dad proud, Kyle decided to dig into our Uncle Scotty’s business dealings. I didn’t have the time to go to school full time, work, attend shit for the team, and keep an eye on my little brother.

  I shook my head back and forth. “Don’t say anything—don’t spread any rumors. It could be something completely unrelated.”

  “I wonder how his father feels about it.” Kyle laughed, wiping his forehead with the grease rag I had used for the dipstick. I cringed, grabbing for it.

  “Can you at least try to be aware of what you’re doing and what’s around you?”

  His eyes danced with amusement. “I can’t promise that, big bro.”

  I stuck my head under the hood, ignoring the tiny prick of pain in my chest. I knew he was running deals with Scotty. It would have been one thing if Scotty was some idiot, low-level runner, but he wasn’t. Scotty worked for some big-shot boss out of New York
and was in charge of lower-level deals down the east coast, but my little brother didn’t need to be anywhere near that shit.

  “So there’s another rumor…and it kind of connects to your devious plan.” Kyle leaned on his elbows while watching me work. The sun was high, forcing a sweltering kind of heat to swallow us up. I just wanted to be done and head back to school, but I’d promised Kyle I’d hang with him and my mom I’d fix her car for her.

  “What’s this one about?” I humored my baby brother.

  “Elias Matthews is broke. His family is banking on him going big to get them out of some big financial trouble.”

  I looked up, trying to understand what my brother was putting together. “That’s a problem.”

  “Indeed. I think we finally figured out why he made that deal…” Kyle gave me a knowing look before returning to his lawnmower. It left me considering a few different options. If money was the driving factor, it would make him more desperate.

  Which would make it all the more imperative that I start dating Taylor Beck.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The sun kept peeking through the trees as I walked with Juan and Hillary through campus. We were laughing about something Hillary had said—as per usual because she had no filter—so I didn’t even realize we’d ventured toward the massive baseball field on the opposite side of the school. We never came this way, and since I had no classes until later that afternoon, I wasn’t paying attention to where we wandered.

  “Why are we here?” I felt like everyone on the team knew what I had done, especially seeing that little group meeting I witnessed at the bar and knowing it was Elias who’d been leading it. I was finally able to connect a few dots after my little café date with Decker. Not a date—it wasn’t a date. I had to keep those thoughts categorized correctly, or else I’d get confused by his easy smiles and flirty behavior.

  “Figured Hil and I could scope out this man who had his tongue down your throat the other night.” Juan smiled brightly, his dark shades covering those whiskey eyes. I wanted to punch him, but I was also curious about the players on the team. It was about time I checked out their roster, see who played what…even though I had no idea what ‘what’ was.