Page 57 of Knot Your Rebel

We’ve been driving for the last hour, and the day turns into night before my eyes.

“Still not going to tell me where we’re going?”

Silence continues to stand between us as he drives us to wherever we’re going.

A few minutes later, he’s pulling onto gravel, and the car dips with each divet in the road before us. My breasts jump, and my body jerks with each movement. I didn't notice it initially, but his eyes have been watching my tits with each dip. His mouth quirks into a grin, and I turn away; caught staring at him yet again.

The car crawls to a stop, and I can’t see anything before us.

twenty three - tate

. . .

I hadn’t planned to steal her tonight, thinking she was probably tired from her first day back on the ice in years, but I wanted to spend some time alone with her.

There’s nothing better than this place. I used to come here all the time when I was younger to clear my head. Living with my father had its moments of unbearability. I know no one will bother us because, after spending so much time here and landing an NHL spot, I bought the land. She looks around curiously, waiting for me to make a move.

I’m barely out of the car by the time she speaks, but it's muffled by the closing of my door. The chill night air is starting to creep in around, and a light breeze has picked up, making my hair flip and twirl with each drift.

Making my way around the car, I stop at the passenger door and open it, holding out my hand for Rebel to take. “Where are we?” she says, looking around us as she allows me to pull her from the bowels of the front seat. I glance over to where I know the lookout tower resides, but it's hard to see in the dusk that’s settling on the land.

I spent the money to replace all the crap wood when I bought the land, so now it’s brand new but still with a rustic style vibe. It’s two stories high, and you have to climb stairs to get into it, much like you would a treehouse.

A sharp gust of wind grabs hold of her hair, and she reaches up to tuck it behind her ear. She looks gorgeous tonight. The makeup that coated her face earlier seems to have lightened. Maybe it came off during her day training? I can’t wait until she trusts me enough to see her completely bare.

She still keeps her distance from me, and it pisses me off. She’s mine. She will always be mine. My version of forever will always be her.

I can see a twinkle in her eyes from the touch of the moon starting to peek its head out. “Come, let’s go,” I say, holding out my hand, expecting her to reject it, but for once, she willingly accepts, following behind me blindly.

My eyes are sharp in the dark, but I’d know where to go anyhow. Her hand is warm in mine as we make the journey a few feet to the lookout. Golden hazel eyes take in her surroundings as we get up to the building. “What is this place?”

“I used to come here when I was younger when I needed time away from the house.”

She makes eye contact with me. “What was it like growing up for you?”

I hadn’t intended to speak about my past with her tonight, but I suppose she’s going to find out anyhow. You have to give to get, right?

“It was surprisingly good. I had those chill type of parents everyone dreams about as kids. They had money, but they didn’t flash it around like most families. My father grasped for the top of the ladder and climbed his way up until he made it.” I look up at the lookout while I speak before glancing at her.

An odd look crosses by her face before I can decipher what it means. “What does he do?”

“He owns an accounting firm. Mom became a stay-at-home mom once she had me, and then she never really went back. She’s pretty cool, and I actually see her every couple of weekends just to catch up.”

She giggles, and it’s freaking music dancing in my ears. “So, you’re a momma’s boy?”

I shake my head at the goofiness of it. “I guess you could label it if you really needed to.” My mom had always been a rock when my father wasn’t there growing up. Running his own company meant he attended lots of meetings, and some of those took him out of town.

Her face softens, and she smiles up at me. “I bet she really appreciates that.”

“What about you?” I ask, not wanting to wait another minute to find out about her life, right from her mouth instead of whatever gossip column wants to spread lies about her.

Her brows scrunch. “What about me?”

“Did you have a good childhood?”

She sits there quietly, staring at me, and I start to think that maybe she’s not going to tell me, but then she clears her throat and speaks. “Have you ever felt like you were screaming into the world, but you were also stuck in a soundproof box, and no one could hear you? That’s my childhood in a nutshell. Trotted out when it appeased my parents, and then locked away when I wasn’t needed for photographs or the family name. But I’m sure you know all of this already, right?”

I can’t school my face fast enough. “I figured as much,” she whispers. “I’d be delusional thinking you wouldn’t look me up after you put freaking cameras in my house and bit me.” The snort laugh that comes out of her mouth is very unladylike.

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