Page 59 of Rebound

If anyone else had done that to me, I would have found the gesture annoying, but not him. I like the feel of his finger on me.

There is a heaviness to Seth sometimes, and after knowing about how he grew up, I understand it now, but when he smiles, it disappears and is replaced by boyish good looks with a dash of insecurity.

“If you keep smiling at me like that, I’m going to kick everyone out and throw you on the couch.”

I gasp in faux shock and swat at his chest while pretending to be outraged by his words, but all that does is make him smile wider. He surprises me when he takes my wrist, pulls me to him, and traps me against his body in his big strong arms. He leans down and kisses me. It’s not a passionate kiss, but it still awakens my body. It’s a kiss that lovers who are comfortable with each other share. He bends down and growls against the side of my neck. I giggle at the sound and he gently bites my neck.

“Oh,” I say. “Maybe youshouldkick everyone out and throw me on the couch.” But there’s another knock on the door, and I go to answer it.

Chapter 34

Seth

My former coach and his wife come into the apartment. He has his arm across her shoulders while she puts her hand on her protruding belly. I pull out a chair for her, and he helps her sit.

“I’m glad everyone is here,” Layla announces. “You aren’t going to believe what I found out about Wakowski from his father?”

My eyes narrow at her, but she won’t look at me. She walks away and goes to her purse. Jasmine and Johnny come running into the kitchen like two bats out of hell. Jasmine goes straight for Coach, and Johnny tries to climb on Jeannie. I lift him and put him on her lap. He becomes mesmerized by her round belly and puts his head on it.

“Ball?” he asks while touching it.

“Baby,” Jeannie says. “Two babies.”

“For me?” Johnny asks.

“No, for me.” Coach snatches him from Jeannie and puts him on his lap.

“No,” Johnny says to Coach before he reaches for Jeannie again. When she takes him back, he puts his ear on her stomach while his little hands touch it.

“Two giant babies because my husband can never do anything like a normal person,” Jeannie complains. “Someone, please get me some cold water.”

Vickie runs to my fridge before I can and comes back with two bottles of water for Jeannie. That’s when my wife comes back holding a manila envelope.

“You guys won’t believe this,” she says, and I prepare myself for everyone’s reaction. I know what’s in there. “Seth Wakowski,” she says, pointing at me. “That fool over there who does nothing but gyrate on the court after every basket. That one,” she says while waving the envelope around and gyrating her hips like I do, “has never gotten anything other than an A in his entire grade school life.”

“No way,” Vickie says. “This guy over there? Him?” she asks while pointing at me.

“I’m offended,” I say to my guests.

“I have the proof right here.” She hands Vickie the envelope. She opens it, and Colt towers above her while he looks. Even Charlie looks too.

“This guy?” Charlie asks. “He mooned me the first time I met him.”

“Oh, that’s because I saw you from a distance, and I thought you were your brother.” I throw my head back and let out a loud belly laugh. “You should have seen the look on your face.”

“Mistaking him for his brother is not a good reason to moon him, Seth,” Vickie says.

“I’m not surprised. I saw his transcript when we were recruiting him,” Coach says. “He only did a year of college, but he had a perfect grade point average.”

I puff out my chest and jut out my chin while I look around the room. “I won’t mention how offensive this is, wife,” I saywhile I look at Layla. “I’m brilliant on and off the court. Deal with it.” I shoot an imaginary ball.

“And he took all advanced placement classes too. His dad said he was going to become a doctor.”

“Let me see those,” Jeannie says. When Layla hands her one of my report cards, she lets out a loud whistle. “These look fake,” she says.

“They’re copies,” Layla admits. “His dad wouldn’t let me take the originals, so I had to go make copies. Next time, I’ll have to bring some of his elementary school pictures. He was pretty cute, believe it or not.” She grins at me, and I snort at the backhanded compliment.

While everyone looks over my old report cards, I’m reminded that there are no school pictures after the eighth grade. Whatever little normalcy I had before that left when my stepmother fled town.

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