Wildcard: Volume Two

Him: What? What happened?

I wince as my phone begins to ring. I ignore his three calls, hoping he takes the hint that I’m not in the mood to elaborate. He doesn’t. Seconds later, a text comes through.

Him: For fuck’s sake, Ryder! If you’ve done something at least have the decency to let me plan some damage control.

I turn my phone off before shoving it back in my pocket. A small sense of satisfaction washes over me as I chuckle. I hope Cally’s father rips him apart.

Payback for telling Scarlett where I’m staying.

Chapter Six

Ryder

I walk into the bathroom, turning on the shower. It’s one of those fancy electronic setups, so I press the buttons until I have what I think is forty-five degrees.

Damn Americans and their fucking Fahrenheit.

I slide my shorts down my legs and kick them into the corner along with my shirt. I step under the stream of hot water and inhale sharply as it hits my skin. It’s too hot, but I can’t be fucked getting out to fix it, so I have what would have to be the quickest shower ever.

The knock on the door comes just as I’m changing into a fresh pair of shorts. I slip a T-shirt over my head and run my hand through my damp hair. I catch my reflection in the full-length mirrors that line the wardrobe doors. I look like shit, but I don’t care.

I open the door and my breath catches in my throat.

Scarlett.

My heart races because I have no idea why she’s here. Wasn’t everything said yesterday? How can she even look at me after the way I treated her? I stand back and she walks in. The smell of her hits me in the face like a jagged glass bottle. It’s sweet and sexy and just . . . her. I can’t explain it.

I’m trying not to stare at her, but it’s hard because she’s fucking stunning. It’s like she’s trying to torture me. Her strapless cream-and-floral sundress sits just above her knees. She has her hair down tonight, and it’s falling in sweet little curls around her shoulders. I fight the urge to reach out and finger them.

“I didn’t expect to see you again,” I mutter.

“We need to talk. This time you’re going to let me explain.”

Her hands are clasped in front of her and her expression is hard. Only her voice shakes as she speaks, giving everything away. I smirk. She’s cute when she’s trying to be tough. Too cute.

“Look,” I begin, “I’m sorry about yesterday. I was an arse.”

“You were,” she agrees. “But I probably could’ve handled things better.”

“Maybe, but nobody deserves to be treated like shit.”

Her face reddens. We both know my comment is really directed at her.

“Will you let me explain?” she asks throwing her hands up.

She’s frustrated, and for the first time I consider that maybe there really is a reasonable explanation.

“Can I stop you?” I mumble. I can’t seem to stop the retorts that keep shooting out of my mouth. “Drink?”

She shakes her head and sits down on the couch. “I’m not with him, Ryder. Jake’s father? I want nothing to do with him.”

I look up, surprised. My jaw tightens as I wait for her to continue. I need to hear more before I say anything.

“He turned up after he saw us in a magazine.” She laughs bitterly. “I swear I thought he was out of my life.”

I sit forward. I believe her, but I’m confused. Why all the secrecy then? Why couldn’t she have told me this on Friday? Or even yesterday, for God’s sake.

“What does he want?” I ask carefully. I’m still not sure how I feel.