RISKY PLAY (RED CARD #1) BY RACHEL VAN DYKEN Page 0,34
to his disappearing form.
“It says on the card.” He chuckled.
Why was that funny?
I put the roses on the kitchen table and searched for the card. It was nearly hidden behind the most beautiful yellow rose I’d ever seen.
Mackenzie.
I’m sorry—Love, Jackass
I burst out laughing as my eyes filled with tears. Huh. I tapped the card against my thigh, then grabbed my phone from my back pocket and typed out a text.
Me: I take it you’re jackass.
Slade: If I die today, I imagine Matt would be more than happy to put it on my tombstone for you. Think of it as your final revenge.
I smiled and typed back.
Me: Thank you. For the roses. They’re beautiful.
Slade: Thank you for not poisoning me in the near future?????
Me: See you soon!
Slade: Mack . . . .
I grinned, I liked being called Mack by him.
Me: Yes?
Slade: You’re not really going to put arsenic in my Wheaties.
Me: Good talk!
Slade: Mack . . . I’ll bring you wine.
My breath caught.
I didn’t know what to say.
Slade: Remember, I know your weaknesses—all of them.
My thighs clenched as I tried to ignore what that made me think of.
Me: We’ll see about that.
Slade: Don’t challenge a player, it won’t end well for you.
Me: Don’t piss off the woman who makes your food—it won’t end well for you . . . either.
Slade: Stops off at nearest store to get the most expensive wine available . . . happy?
Me: Cab Franc.
Slade: I’ll take your word for it . . .
Me: :)
I was grinning way too hard at my phone screen and easily forgetting all the shitty things he’d done, the way he’d treated me, because of stupid flowers and a few flirty texts.
I buried my feelings again, or at least tried, and then went back upstairs to dive into the last box.
It wasn’t labeled.
I cut it open and paused.
Trophies.
So many trophies.
Awards.
From high school and college.
And in every single picture was a smiling father holding his son close and giving a thumbs-up to the camera.
There were at least three old photo albums underneath the heavy trophies. I picked up the heaviest one, sat on his bed, and cracked it open.
My eyes widened.
They were engagement photos.
A smiling Slade holding a soccer ball up to a beautiful girl who could pass as a supermodel, she was giggling and accepting the ball like it was a ring.
I vaguely remembered the picture from the news, but I hadn’t paid much attention since I was dealing with my own stuff, and even then, I didn’t really follow sports. The next few pictures were of teammates.
In one of them he had his arm wrapped around a guy on one side and his fiancée on the other.
Slade was looking at the camera.
They were looking at each other.
I sighed and kept flipping through his memories, through his personal life, like I had a right to.
Alfie got up from his spot in the middle of the room and started barking toward the door.
I quickly slammed the album shut and then put it back in the box. I didn’t want to take any chances that he’d get pissed again. And I still had three weeks with him before I promised my dad I’d be back.
My stomach clenched.
I wasn’t ready.
Clearly I wasn’t ready if I preferred the company of a man who slept with me then treated me like shit over and over again.
Only to apologize with flowers.
At least he said sorry.
That was twice now.
I yawned and slowly made my way down the stairs, sniffing the air. What was that smell? Thai food? Chinese?
I rounded the corner and stopped in the kitchen.
Slade had grabbed two wineglasses and was pouring the exact bottle of wine I would have picked out from my family’s winery.
“Hope you like fried pork,” he said without looking up.
“Roses, wine, and now you’re feeding me?” I made my way farther into the kitchen. “If this is another plan to wine and dine me until I’m so happy I sign that damn paper, I’m going to have to give you a hard pass.”
He set the wine down and braced his body against the counter. “I’m not going to ask you to sign the paper again.”
I exhaled.
“I’m hoping you’ll come to your senses and do it on your own, with or without the wine, and if you don’t . . . well, I guess that’s a risk I’m going to have to take.” He handed me a glass.
I swirled it around and sniffed it.
I was just about to take a sip when he said, “Why?”