Risky Play (Red Card #1)(49)

“Why are you growling?” Jagger asked.

“Nothing, I just—”

My phone buzzed again.

Jagger groaned.

Slade: Did you leave any French toast?

Me: I put the leftovers in the fridge.

Slade: You almost ate the whole pan.

Jagger glanced down. “You ate that much French toast?”

“Stop looking over my shoulder.” I elbowed him while he held up his hands in surrender. “And it was . . . good. He’s a good cook, alright?”

“Wait, ass pants made you . . . French toast?”

“It was baked,” I said, reliving the texture in my mouth. “It had this syrupy brown-sugar glaze and I think he even put brandy in it.”

“Damn. I may have underestimated him. I mean I had my suspicions when he didn’t make me shave all the hair off my head plus my eyebrows, but still.”

“Eyebrows too?” I smiled to myself and typed back.

Me: I didn’t eat the whole pan. Anything else?

Slade: Do we have wine?

I took a deep breath.

Me: Look in the cellar.

“He has a wine cellar?” Jagger asked out loud.

“I said stop!” I laughed. “Okay, movie, we were watching a movie, right?”

“Uh . . .” A crestfallen expression crossed his face before he nodded toward the flat-screen. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I had in mind for the night.”

I settled back against the comfortable couch. Jagger held me tighter. Five minutes went by and then there were six consecutive buzzes of my phone.

“Are you serious? If that’s Slade I’m going to block his number on your phone, the guy’s such a fucking cockblock.” He laughed. “I mean he gives me so much shit during practice, the camp, I hate that I actually respect him now and—”

I pulled away. Shook my head for good measure, not even hearing the rest of what he said, and gave him a sharp look followed by “Excuse me?”

His expression went from frustrated to panicked before he shrugged. “Look, it’s a common phrase, don’t read into it too much.”

“But why would you use it on your friend?”

“Mackenzie.” He wiped his face with his hands. “Can we not do this? Don’t be the girl that reads into things and ruins what should be a really good time.”

I didn’t think he meant it as a put-down.

In fact, I knew he probably wasn’t thinking anything, but I was jumping to conclusions.

But after all those texts from Alton.

It was enough for me to feel emotionally awkward and more than ready to go home.

I stood.

“Mackenzie.” He gripped my hand and tried tugging me back down. “Seriously, I’ll stop talking. The guy just drives me crazy. On purpose. We’ll just watch the movie.”

I glanced at the texts on my phone.

Slade: Come back.

Slade: I know he’s with you.

Slade: Tell him I’m plotting his death.

Slade: I’m not joking.

Slade: Hurry home so I don’t go to prison.

Slade: I miss you . . .

“No . . . ,” I said in a harsh whisper. “I think we should just call it a night.” I smiled down at him. “Thanks for the wine and food, but I should be going.”

“Shit.” He said it so quietly that I almost didn’t hear it. When he stood, he had a defeated look in his eyes.

And when I grabbed my things and walked to the door, he reached for my hand and squeezed. “Mackenzie?”

“Yeah?” I squeezed back.

“I never stood a chance, did I?”

“Next time, don’t lead with being a friend if what you want is something more,” I said truthfully.

“Would it have even mattered?” His eyes shifted like he was trying to read my emotions to see if there had ever really been a chance.

The question hung between us like dirty laundry that needed to be acknowledged, taken care of.

I exhaled and shook my head no. “He and I—”

“He’s a dick at least ninety percent of the time,” he finished. “Promise me that when you get him out of your system you’ll give me a chance.”

“Get him out of my system.” Why did all the men around me, except the one I wanted, try to control me? Put me down? Make me feel bad about myself because of my own feelings? Why? “What makes you think that’s what’s happening next?”

He stared me down. “Because I’ve seen that look before . . . the day his fiancée told him she was pregnant and was willing to do anything to keep him. Even though she betrayed him she couldn’t bear the thought of letting him go. His grip on her was too deep, she made a mistake and would have sold her soul to keep him.”

“I don’t want to hear about it.”

“You think you even know what the truth is?” He shook his head. “He doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”

“Bye, Jagger.” I threw my purse over my shoulder and power walked to the elevator as the door shut quietly behind me.

Was it too much to ask for one man not to assume the worst of me? To support me?

I wanted a partner.

Not someone who knew better and ruled over me.

I wanted the danger of jumping off the cliff while my partner not only encouraged me to do so but said he’d jump next to me—regardless of whether we both landed in shark-infested waters.