Outmatched: A Novel

by Kristen Callihan

  Dean shrugged. “Six brains are better than four.”

  “Six?” Ren shot Rhys an incredulous look, and while Rhys might have looked through my friend like his words meant nothing, anger suffused me.

  I slammed my foot down on Ren’s under the table. I was still wearing my heels from work, so that had to hurt.

  “Fuck!” Ren bit out. “What the hell was that?”

  I gave him my most disappointed look, and he had the grace to appear ashamed. With a grimace and a sigh, he turned his attention toward Bill. His next lot of questions, we answered easily, while Rhys watched on with a bland expression I couldn’t decipher. Was he bored? Irritated? Indifferent. He was puzzling and distracting.

  Why did I care so much?

  “Last question,” Bill finally said. “Which animal does not drink water?”

  We all looked at each other.

  “Camel?” Elijah asked.

  “I think they can survive a long time without water, but they still need it,” Dean said.

  “It’s a kangaroo rat,” Rhys said, voice quiet so teams nearby wouldn’t hear.

  “I’ve never heard of it,” Navin said, scowling.

  “Probably because it’s made up,” Ren huffed.

  “Write it down,” I said.

  Ren nudged me. “What? No.”

  Oh boy, he was really ticking me off. “If Rhys says it’s a kangaroo rat, it’s a kangaroo rat. Write it down.”

  “Whatever,” my friend muttered.

  I practically growled at him. He knew using the word whatever in that manner was a pet peeve. It was a word for petulant teenagers, not for adults. It made adults sound like immature morons.

  “Okay, you all got your answers done?” Bill asked as he approached our table. “Hand ’em over. Sorry they were so fucking hard. I think Della must’ve googled a quiz from the fucking MIT website.”

  Navin handed over the bit of paper and Bill scanned it. “Hey, looks like you guys might win.” He frowned down at it. “How the fuck did you know it was a kangaroo rat? I hadn’t even heard of that shit.”

  A smug smile spread across my face as Ren turned to me with a sheepishly apologetic look. I turned to Rhys, who wasn’t smiling until he caught my expression. His eyes glittered with amusement as he took a swig of beer; I felt an unwelcome flutter of attraction in my belly.

  Elijah pointed to Rhys. “Apparently this guy has.”

  “Rhys, didn’t even see you there.” Bill grinned as he came around the table to clap a hand on Rhys’s shoulder. “How’s it going? You haven’t been by in a while.”

  “Been busy, Bill. How’s you and Della?”

  I studied Rhys as he talked to Bill, my eyes drawn to the hand resting flat on the table. He had big hands, big knuckles, long, surprisingly graceful fingers. It had never occurred to me that a man could have attractive hands. But Rhys’s were. I imagined they must have gotten pretty bruised up when he was fighting professionally, and that made me frown.

  Thinking about him getting back in the ring was alarming. I was glad he no longer fought. The idea of him taking a hit made my stomach lurch.

  Uh-oh.

  I shouldn’t care if he fought or not.

  But I did.

  Oh hell.

  “You and my brother seem to be getting along.” Dean’s voice cut through my thoughts.

  I jerked out of my Rhys daze and turned to his younger brother. “Huh?”

  Dean grinned mischievously. “What were you staring at?”

  “Nothing.” I blushed furiously and sought to distract him. “You’re working with Rhys at the gym now, right?”

  “Yeah. Place is kind of a mess, but Rhys is determined to fix it.”

  Something about Dean’s derisive tone annoyed me. “His dedication to the gym is admirable.”

  “I know that.” Dean dipped his head toward mine. “But my brother is trying to save it because of what it meant to our dad. It shouldn’t be his burden. He would be better off walking away.”

  The idea that Rhys was stuck at the gym out of loyalty to his father’s wishes was more troubling than I’d like. My fake boyfriend’s happiness shouldn’t mean anything to me. “Surely he enjoys running the gym?”

  “He likes training young boxers. And he runs junior classes that help keep kids out of trouble.”

  “It sounds like a worthy job to me.” I scowled at him. “Why would he be better off walking away from that?”

  “Financially, he would.”

  “Money isn’t everything.”

  “Says the woman who has money.”

  “Fair enough.” I sighed. “But there are more important things. Like caring about your community.”

  Dean nudged me with his shoulder like we were old friends. “Why the fuck do you think I’m sticking around?”

  “What are you guys talking about?”

  Rhys’s voice drew our heads up and my eyebrows nearly hit my hairline at his dark expression.

  “The gym.” Dean shrugged and then looked at Elijah. “You guys go to MIT with Parker?”

  And thus began a night that went from awkward to even more awkward. The only people not affected by the epic levels of awkward were Elijah, Navin, and Dean. Eventually, Ren got over the fact that I’d kept Rhys a secret and joined the guys in their conversation.

  After Bill came over with our prize, Dean talked easily with my friends. Sometimes they tried to draw Rhys and me into the conversation, but they didn’t meet with much success. They asked Rhys a little about his boxing career, but his answers were short and didn’t invite further questions. He stared around the bar, merely an arm stretch away from me, but he might as well have been on another planet.

  And I didn’t like it.

  I had no idea what had crawled up his well-formed ass.

  “So how did you two meet?” Ren suddenly gestured to me and Rhys. “Because you’re not her usual type. And I’ve seen you on TV with your ring side ‘fans’… she’s not your usual type either. What gives?”

  Rhys’s expression didn’t change. “Not sure that’s your business.”

  Ren frowned at that. “Parker is my friend, so she is my business.”

  Looking between them like I was watching a tennis match I became increasingly annoyed. I opened my mouth to tell them the only person who had a right to my business was me, but Rhys opened his mouth first.

  “You think? Hate to burst your bubble, but the only men in Parker’s life who have a right to her business is her dad and the guy in her bed.”

  “Yeah? I’ve known Park for twelve years.” Ren leaned forward. “I have more right to her business than you. I know her better than anyone. Well, except Theo.” He shrugged. “And just a heads-up, no one’s getting in there like Theo.”

  Confusion and fury rooted me to my chair.

  “Ren, man, not cool,” Navin practically growled.

  “Yeah, think it’s time we got you home before Parker decides to beat your ass.” Elijah pushed back from the table and gave me a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, Parker.”

  I shook my head, mute with anger.

  “Aw, shit.” Ren rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Fuck, shit, I’m sorry.” He looked at me in horror. “One too many beers and a shitty friend am I. Sorry, Park.”

  “It’s fine.” It was not fine.

  “Let’s go.” Elijah nodded at Ren as he stood. He turned to Rhys. “Will you see Parker home?”

  Rhys’s expression remained confusingly blank. “Of course.”

  “Park, I really am sorry,” Ren said again as he stood. “You know sometimes I say shit without thinking. I’m an asshole.”

  It was true that for a very smart guy, he didn’t have a filter between his brain and mouth sometimes. “It’s okay,” I said, this time meaning it.

  He gave me a remorseful smile. “We’ll talk later when the memory of my assholery has faded.”

  This time I did smile. “We’ll do that.”

  Relieved I was no longer pissed, Ren grinned
. “See you later.”

  “I’ll see you guys out.” Dean stood, carrying the crate of beer that we’d won as he followed the boys out of the bar.

  “Let’s get you home.”

  Looking over at Rhys, I sighed. “You don’t have to see me home. I can get a cab.”

  His expression tightened for some reason. “I’ll see you home.”

  As soon as the cool night air hit, I felt a wave of exhaustion rush over me. “Well … that was fun.”

  “You know your boy Ren is in love with you, right?”

  The idea made me guffaw.

  My reaction did not make Rhys happy, or I was misinterpreting the way his jaw muscle ticked as he clenched his teeth.

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ve known Ren since freshman year of college. We’re best friends. He has a long-term girlfriend who is lovely and intelligent. Trust me, he’s not in love with me. He’s more like an overprotective big brother.”

  “You know, for a smart woman, you’re fucking clueless sometimes.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What is your problem tonight?”

  “Who’s Theo?” he asked instead.

  My breath stuttered. “Rhys—”

  “Ren might be a dick, but he brought up a good point. He knows you better than I do, and if we’re really going to sell this, you need to start telling me shit that’s real. Like who’s Theo?”

  “Ren is not a dick.”

  “Parker.”

  Hearing the warning in Rhys’s voice, I looked at him in surprise. He hadn’t used that tone with me since before we signed our contract.

  Cursing Ren to hell, I let out a shaky breath. How could I put much-needed distance between me and Rhys if I confided deep, emotional history to him? “It’s not relevant.”

  “I think it is, if your boy is making such a big deal about it. My guess … Theo is some rich little fucker who screwed you over. Is that why you don’t have a man? You don’t trust guys ’cause of a first love gone bad?”

  The memory of Theo still caused a deep ache in my chest, and Rhys’s supposition left a bad taste in my mouth. “He died,” I blurted out. “He was my childhood sweetheart. We grew up in the same town, started dating when we were twelve. He was my first everything.” I turned toward him as he drew to a halt beside me. “I loved him in a way I thought I would get to for the rest of my life. Until one night when we were seventeen, he walked home from a friend’s party, drunk, on a dark country road, and a car hit him. And they left him there to die by the side of the road.” Tears burned in my eyes, but I fought them back. “He was my best friend … and then he was just gone.”

  “Jesus, fuck …” Rhys suddenly pulled me into his arms, and I didn’t stop to think before I rested my head on his chest and slid my arms around his back. “Tink, I’m so sorry.”

  We were silent a while, just holding each other in the middle of the street, until I felt his arms tighten. His voice carried softly down to me. “My best friend died too.” The words sounded torn from him. “I watched him die in a bout. Jake. We grew up together. He was like a brother to me. And … there was nothing I could do. One minute he was alive … and the next, I watched the light go out of his eyes.”

  He shuddered against me and I dug my fingers into his shoulder blades, wishing I could dig the pain right out of him. I tilted my head back and the agony I saw behind all the cocky charm and humor in his eyes made my heart squeeze.

  “Rhys,” I whispered, hating to see someone so big, capable, and strong filled with so much grief.

  “He left behind a wife and kid. Marcy and Rose. The fucking sport I loved tore away my brother, tore away Marcy’s husband, Rose’s dad.” He shook his head, fighting his emotion. “First time someone called me the Widowmaker after he died … I threw up.”

  “Rhys.” I pushed deeper into him.

  Now I knew. I knew why he couldn’t get back in that ring.

  “So I get it to a certain extent.” He caressed my cheek, his eyes following the trail his fingers made across my skin. “I get how it feels to lose your best friend. To not be able to move on.”

  And I realized he did. Gently extricating myself from his embrace, I reached for his hand. “I don’t think not going back to fighting is an inability to move on, Rhys. It’s a choice you made. A choice you should be proud of.” At the abject surprise on his face, I curled my hand around his and gripped it tight. “I can’t imagine the expectations people had of you as a champion … but I can imagine that those expectations weighed heavily on your shoulders. To turn your back on that, to do what was right for you, to follow your gut … Rhys, that takes more courage than putting on those gloves and getting in that ring.”

  Pain flickered across his features, the muscle in his jaw flexing again, as he stared into my eyes. Then he lowered his gaze to where I held his hand and his grip tightened. When he eventually looked up again, there was something like awe in his expression.

  Something sweet.

  Something significant.

  And something dangerous to my emotions.

  When he spoke, his voice was rough, hoarse. “Let me get you home, sweetheart.”

  Our walk to the gym was silent but Rhys didn’t release my hand. When we got to his garage, to his bike, he brushed my hair off my shoulders and carefully put my helmet on for me. Once I got on the bike after he’d straddled it, he took my hands and drew them around his waist so I was pressed as close to him as I could get.

  Part of me feared arriving at my place because with the thick tension between us, I half expected Rhys to ask to come up.

  And the scary thing?

  I wasn’t sure I would say no.

  However, Rhys didn’t ask to come up. He stayed on the bike as I got off. He removed his helmet, waiting patiently as I took off mine. He reached for my hand and jerked me toward him.

  My heart jumped into my throat, only to nosedive down again when he placed a brotherly kiss to my forehead.

  Huh.

  “’Night, Tinker Bell. I’ll see you Saturday, yeah?”

  I had to clear my throat to speak. “Saturday,” I agreed, stepping back.

  “Not leaving until you’re safe inside, sweetheart.”

  Confused, disappointed, I nodded numbly and hurried inside my building. It was only when I was inside the elevator that I slumped against it and whispered, “You are seriously, seriously in trouble, Parker Brown.”

  Thirteen

  Rhys

  * * *

  I have to admit, there was something immensely satisfying about rumbling up the guarded gate of some richie’s estate in my red 1970 Chevy Chevelle SS 454. My girl announced her presence with a throaty growl, drawing a sneer from the rent-a-cop on duty. My satisfaction multiplied as I handed him the gilded invitation to this trumped-up garden party and he immediately started kissing ass.

  “A valet will meet you at the end of the drive, sir. Have a lovely afternoon, sir.”

  I waved him off and gunned it up the drive. Much to Parker’s irritation.

  “You’re loving this, aren’t you?” she muttered. She wasn’t a fan of the Chevelle. Well, not outwardly. I swore she got a gleam in her eye earlier when I’d hit the gas on the highway. She’d covered that little slip of enjoyment by complaining about the amount of gas we were wasting.

  I glanced over at her and smiled. “As a matter of fact, I am. Did you see that guy’s face? Like he’d sucked a lemon through a straw.”

  She sniffed and then turned to look over her shoulder at the winding drive.

  “What now?” I asked. Ahead, the drive curved and a massive white clapboard house, sprawled out over a carpet of emerald green, came into view. Jesus.

  “I was just checking to see if this fossil-fuel dinosaur was leaving behind a cloud of noxious black fumes.”

  Laughing, I shook my head. “Cute.”

  I’d taken the Chevelle because I didn’t want to subject her to the hour’s ride out to Manchester-by-the-Sea on the bike. Some thanks I got.

&n
bsp; Parker crossed her arms under her pert breasts and glared straight ahead. “I’m serious. The greenhouse emissions this thing gives off is the stuff of nightmares.”

  One thing I knew to be true about Parker was that she started in on her favorite subject when she was nervous. When Dean was a kid, he used to rattle off equations for the same reason. Thus, I knew the only thing for it was to offer a distraction.

  “Hey, I didn’t see you throwing a fit when you told me to throw out those brown bananas at my place the other night.”

  Her brows winged up and she looked at me as though I’d grown another head. “I’m not following. At all.”

  Gotcha, babe.

  I shrugged as I turned onto a circular drive where valets helped rich people out of their Astons and Jags. “Just that almost 11 percent of greenhouse gas emissions comes from methane created by rotting food. So, if you’re going to attack Ruby, you should probably side-eye all the food you throw out too.”

  Her mouth opened but nothing came out. I grinned wide. “Guess you’re not as up to date on environmental issues as I thought.”

  Parker growled. “I knew about that!”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Rolling her eyes, she sat back in her seat and huffed. But soon her lips were twitching and she let out a small, self-deprecating laugh. “Fine. You got me.”

  I couldn’t help laughing too. The sky peeked through the leaves overhead, dappling the car in sunlight. It gleamed on Parker’s smiling face, and something in my chest flipped over. I had to suck in a quick breath, but I was still left feeling light-headed.

  She damn near broke my heart the other night when she told me about Theo. I had no idea what it was like to love someone that way, but I knew about loss. Her pain pierced me, and I never wanted to see her cry again.

  Crazy thing was, I damn near cried when she’d looked right at me and said it took courage to quit, that I’d done something right. In that moment, I’d felt seen. I’d felt understood. I’d never had that from anyone. That a whip-smart, small but mighty woman like Parker saw something worthy in me was a gift I didn’t know I needed until she gave it to me. A gift like that made a man crave more.

  It was a fine line I walked now. Tenderness and the need to protect her nearly overwhelmed me every time I looked her way. But this was business. It did me no good to get attached. Even so, it was nice being with her, laughing because we could.