Page 13 of Phantom Faceoff (Daddies of the League #5)

Chapter Thirteen

Malachi

I regret my life choices. Every last one of them.

Showing up to Zander’s stupid game was a gross miscalculation on my part. Julian had been texting me ‘boo-hoo Zander’ messages for weeks, often about how down in the dumps he is and asking me to hang out with them. I always decline.

But then he sent me a video of Zander playing today. He looked angry. Aggressive. It sparked something in me. Pride almost. Which is strange.

I couldn’t focus on any of the work I was trying to get done. My brain kept toying with the idea of seeing him and knowing exactly what would happen if I did.

What’s one more time?

There is no kissing him just once. No touching him once.

It’s like an instant addiction. The moment I taste him I never want to stop.

It was supposed to be one visit, a short and sweet congratulatory kiss—something to sate us both.

Somehow, Zander read me like a book. Hell, he read me like a goddamn comic page.

“Please kiss me … Daddy.”

It wasn’t innocent. It was desperate.

Now, I’ve dug myself a hole I’m not sure I can crawl out of.

“Daddy.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re ignoring me.”

“You’re being a brat.”

Zander barks out a laugh, garnering the attention of a couple patrons flipping through vinyls.

“You like that, though.” He waggles his eyebrows, and once again, regretting life choices.

“If you don’t watch it,” I mutter under my breath, “I’ll show you what happens to brats.”

Which is? I have no fucking clue. When Julian is acting bratty, he’s easy to tame. Easy not to raise my hackles. But with Zander?

It’s only been a few hours, and I feel like I’m completely exasperated.

I don’t know how in the hell I could manage this level of attitude on a full time basis.

Every time we lock eyes, though—every secret little smile he sends my way—I’m hit with a twinge of satisfaction.

Why?

Hell if I know.

“Is this why Julian calls you Daddy? Because you get off on it?”

Zander is sitting on a stool near the desk, looking like a curious child, and when he speaks, he turns a few heads.

Deep breath, Malachi.

“No.” It’s not my place to out Julian, but I also don’t plan on entertaining whatever fucked up notion Zander might get in his head. “And I don’t get off on it.”

“You would have.”

When I glare, he folds his arms over the counter and lays his head on them. “You act like I wasn’t also turned on.”

“For fucks sake, Zander. I’m at work. Can we talk about anything else?”

Trust me, I’m not going to forget anytime soon just how badly I wanted him in that moment.

Or how badly I want him in this one.

“Okay,” he says, sitting back up and leaning on his elbows. “Why were you avoiding me?”

I hesitate. The truth of the matter is: I realized something that first time we kissed, and it terrifies me.

He terrifies me.

It isn’t just the overwhelming protectiveness I’ve started to feel. It’s the little things—like his smile making my chest feel warm.

It’s my body aching for him from the slightest touch.

My body makes notoriously bad choices.

“Is it enough that maybe I don’t want to share a hook up with my best friend?”

He stares straight at me; I can feel it burning a hole in my skull, but I keep my eyes on the stock I’m arranging under the counter.

“You said it wasn’t Julian.”

“Maybe I lied.”

“Fine. I won’t sleep with him anymore. Problem solved.”

I whack my head on the counter when I abruptly stand. “What the hell?”

“What? Julian and I have a mutually beneficial agreement. Friends with benefits. Non-exclusive. If that’s an issue, we’re happy being friends.”

“You act like you’ve talked about this.”

“We have.”

I pause, and Zander notices he has my attention.

“I’ve told him there’s interest—from me. No worries; I didn’t tell him about the kiss or that the interest might be reciprocated.”

Might be.

His grin returns. “What’s the next excuse?”

Why is he so insufferable?

“I’m not looking for what you and Jules have.”

“What are you looking for then?”

My chest feels tight, and I check out a few customers in silence before clearing my throat once we’re alone again.

“Nothing. It was a mistake.”

Hurt dances in his eyes, not a shock but a sad revelation. It’s easier if he pulls away of his own accord anyway.

“I don’t believe you.”

I grind my teeth together. “Zander.”

“Daddy.”

“Stop calling me that.” I raise my voice, and he finally backs down.

Eyes wide, he scoots his chair away a few inches. Those hazel eyes scrunch, and he purses his lips.

A silent question.

Dammit. I can’t be angry.

“Listen.” I take a step toward him, resting my weight on the counter between us. “Yes, it’s hot in the moment. You get a pass there. But if we aren’t … you know … don’t. It’s not a joke.”

When he frowns, I drop my head into my hands and massage my temples.

“If you want that to be a thing, we can talk about it. But not while I’m at work.”

He nods but still seems put off, or at the very least thrown for a loop.

“Can we talk about kissing again?”

I guess that’s a better alternative.

“I want to. I really want to. You’re good at it.”

I can’t tell if he’s trying to give me a genuine compliment or play on my ego.

“And do you think you deserve it?”

His brows shoot up and his jaw drops open.

“Excuse you. Are you implying I have to earn your mouth?”

I chew on the inside of my cheek, debating letting this train of thought continue down the tracks.

“I’m saying you have to earn anything you want from me.”

It’s just as much for me as it is for him. My resolve is weak. I built it up, but all it took was one look at him in that locker room to dissolve it in an instant.

“Win your games,” I say. “You’ll get a reward.”

It’s slow going, the offer running through his brain, but when it clicks … There isn’t a sun brighter than his smile.

“You’re on, Blanchard.”

He hops up, and before I can react, he brushes his lips over mine. It’s brief, gone as he folds himself over the counter to scoop up his sports bag.

As he leaves, a familiar uneasiness starts in my gut. It’s stark against the desire lying underneath. A desire that’s been dormant for years.

One that I thought had been permanently snuffed out by a man who wanted more than I could give.

Julian is coloring again while Fire Force plays on his laptop. When the door clicks closed, he looks up and smiles.

“Hi, Daddy.”

All the conflict pulling my body taut relaxes at my best friend’s greeting.

“Hey Jules.” I kiss the top of his head and give him a one-armed hug. “Finish your paper?”

He nods and points to his desk. “How was work?”

I need to breach the subject of Zander with him, but I don’t want it to come off accusatory or hurtful.

At my silence, he sets his coloring pad down and turns to face me. “Daddy?”

I meet his eyes and watch the shift in his demeanor. He unfolds his legs and scoots to the edge of the bed.

“Mal?”

I sit on my own bed, facing him. “Are you in a good head space to talk?”

“For you? Always.”

I hate having to pull him out of his happy bubble, especially given the long evening he had with his classwork.

“You and Zander. How are things going?”

Jules tilts his head and puts on a puzzled expression. “Considering you made me cancel on him?” There’s a slight pout to his lip, but he shrugs. “We’re good. Why do you ask?”

“He came by work today.”

That brings a smile to his face. “Good. He’s been wanting to see you.”

Neither of us may have told Julian what happened between us, but he’s not oblivious. He’s one of the best people I know at sniffing out tension and putting it to rest. I know the poor man has to be exhausted running point on both of us these last few weeks.

“Did you put the idea of us being together in his head? Did you tell him there could be something there?”

Jules’ smile falls, and he brings his hands to his lap, picking at the skin around his thumbs.

“He asked if I’d be bothered by the two of you hooking up. Theoretically. I told him it’d probably be good for you. Given that you haven’t shown interest in anyone since…”

“Do you think maybe there’s a reason for that, Jules?”

I hate the wet wobble his lip makes and the little wisps of tears that form in the corners of his eyes.

“You deserve to be happy, Mal. I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy. Taking care of you. We’re in this together, aren’t we?”

He tries to smile, but it comes out sad. “We won’t always be.”

I know that. Realistically, I know that. But right now? For this moment? The next year or so? We have each other.

I don’t need a boyfriend. I don’t need sex. I don’t need someone to submit to me in bed. All of those messy desires can wait.

“Mal. I want to fall in love,” he says with a soft, dreamy look in his eyes. “I want to explore the Little side of myself in places and in ways I know you won’t be comfortable. I want to find a Daddy who wants all of the things that I want.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

There’s a lull where Julian stares at the ground, and then it breaks with him taking a big, deep breath and getting to his feet. He crosses the room and sits beside me, taking one of my hands in his.

“I love you, Malachi. You’re like my brother. My protector. Daddy .” He says the last bit under his breath with a playful smile. “I will never not want you to be a part of my life. In saying that …”

He brings our hands to his face and holds them to his cheek. “I don’t want to be your whole life. I know you don’t have any other friends. That’s why I pushed you to hang out with Zander and me. So you’d open up this closed circuit you’ve decided we have.”

“I have friends.”

“You have acquaintances. But if you aren’t in class … at work … or studying … you’re here. With me. Taking care of me. Waiting on me. Or brooding alone with your headphones.”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘brooding’.”

He tugs our hands back to his lap and leans his head on my shoulder.

“You don’t see how lonely you are, but I do. Mack did a number on you, but Mal … Zander isn’t Mack.”

I know that. My brain knows that. My body knows that.

But my heart? It’s still tangled in the barbed wire and electrical fence Mack left it in. Three years and I haven’t felt ready to step into that landmine.

“I wouldn’t be mad,” he says, drawing little stars on the back of my hand with his finger. “If you two wanted to mess around.”

I lay my cheek over top of his head and sigh. “That’s a big ‘if’.”

I can’t deny that Zander makes me feel things I haven’t allowed myself to feel since the days in the group home. Since Mack and I would hide in closets, sneaking kisses behind the open refrigerator door. Crawling into each other’s beds after room check.

It was every teenagers romantic fantasy—until it wasn’t.

I’m not ready to go back there, to tackle the bits of me that never escaped that place, and I’m not sure how to move on without them.

Julian wants me to be happy. Could Zander make me happy? Even in the short run, only getting what little of me I can loan out?

I promised him rewards for winning—honestly a distraction to give me time to figure things out—but can I follow through?

And if I do, can I stop myself from falling into the quicksand that is Zander Hale?