Page 102 of Rebound

“She doesn’t seem like your type,” I add.

It’s true. This woman is a lot more dignified than any woman I’ve ever seen my cousin with.

“She’s not,” he says. “She’s one of those girls looking for thug love. I don’t think she knows what the hell she’s asking for.”

“Well, you’re not a thug,” I remind him. “Not anymore, so if that’s what she wants, she needs to look elsewhere.”

“Lay, I’m always gonna be thug adjacent, but don’t worry about Terri, even though it’s a little complicated.”

“I’m worried,” I say. “What do you mean by complicated?”

“Her husband—“

“Husband? She’s married? What the fuck, June Bug? Leave that girl alone.”

“Ex-husband,” he corrects, but when I purse my lips at him in disbelief, he says, “I swear she’s divorced now, but the ink is barely dry on her divorce papers.”

“That does sound complicated,” I say, hoping he’ll tell me more.

“Yeah, and the guy’s a real asshole too.” That gets my attention.

June Bug for all his toughness is the type of guy who has a savior complex, especially if the person who needs saving is a female.

“That’s not your problem,” I say firmly. “Don’t get involved in that mess.”

He looks at me and purses his lips. I know what he’s going to say.

“I’m the big cousin.” He points at himself. “You’re the pipsqueak that listens to me. I don’t care if you’re married and a mom now.” He tries to take me in a headlock, but I move away. “Don’t worry about me and Terri. It ain’t nothing serious.”

I nod and sigh in relief because my cousin has never been serious about any woman, and even though I want him to find love, I don’t want him to throw himself into anything complicated. He’s the type who will get caught up in the drama and will go out of his way to fix it.

Once everyone leaves, I dismiss the nanny until she returns tonight. I send Seth into the bedroom to rest as it’s already an hour past the time that he usually naps before a game, and after changing Jasmine, I manage to get her to sleep.

Instead of taking a family nap, I put her in her crib, and after changing into one of Seth’s T-shirts, I climb into bed with him. He turns and spoons me, and when I feel his naked broad chest against my back, I exhale and close my eyes. I’ve never felt so safe in a man’s arms.

They say bad things happen in threes. The first was my grandmother dying so suddenly, and the second is this deranged bitch talking shit about me and my husband all over social media.

“What kind of man keeps a grandmother away from her only grandchild? Especially after losing her daughter.” That’s what we woke up to from our nap. His phone went crazy with texts and links to the now-viral video. “And this marriage is a sham. The man sleeps around with everyone. That child he’s with—Iwon’t say wife—doesn’t know what she’s in this for, and it’s not for love. Let us all pray for her.” And she bowed her head and prayed.

That’s when I threw my phone across the room. Luckily for me, it ended up on the couch and did not break. Seth swore up a storm. He swore so much, his father became concerned and took Jasmine to play in her room.

“Calm down,” I say to Seth while I rub between his shoulders. “I don’t care what she says about me, but I don’t want you upset before a game. Gaga’s gonna be watching, so I want you at your best. Just let this blow over.”

That’s what I told him, but throughout the game I seethed. Seth played an amazing game and scored thirty-four points with nine assists. He’s on fire in the fourth quarter, and after scoring a three-pointer, Madison Square Garden goes crazy. The crowd behind me starts to do the Sethhead dance, and the Jumbotron gets put on me. In a moment of insanity, I do the dance too. That’s when Seth stops, points at me, and dances with me.

It’s the silliest thing I’ve ever done, but it was fun, and after the day I had today, I needed it.

The Mischiefs win, and I ride home with Vickie. Seth comes home about an hour after I get there. We eat together, and once we get into bed, we make love before falling asleep exhausted but satisfied.

Chapter 65

Seth

“This is what happens when you watch too many of those murder shows,” I say to Layla.

“It’s bad energy for the child,” Dorothy says from the kitchen while she pours coffee for herself. Layla looks at me and rolls her eyes. “No mother should watch that nonsense.”

“I just have this feeling,” Layla says. She looks around as if she’s going to see something.

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