Page 26 of The Rebound
SAINT
This is probably the dumbest move I’ve ever made. After my life did what it always does—knock me on my ass with a heavy dose of irony—I retreated back to my place like a wounded puppy.
Learning that the woman I’ve been messing around with is my team captain’s little sister should have been enough to shock some sense into me. Apparently, there’s no sense in my head to begin with, because here I am, standing at Kinley’s door with a big bag of Thai food and a store-bought cake withSORRYwritten on top in cursive lettering in bright yellow frosting.
It takes me an embarrassingly long time to dredge up the courage to knock. I’m nervous to see Kinley, but at least I’m man enough to admit that. I also wouldn’t put it past Reeves to be waiting behind his own door, only feet away from Kinley’s, with a kitchen knife and every intention of ending me.
Straightening my shoulders, I knock a little loudly because I’ve always been a ballsy motherfucker. If Reeves wants a fight, he’ll get one. I’m not about to let go of my connection with Kinley so easily.
The door opens.
“Saint ...” Kinley breathes out my name, one hand resting protectively over her belly. She always does that when she opens the front door, whether she’s aware of it or not. Must be a mama bear thing. She’s protective of her belly, of the baby inside. It’s kind of endearing.
Today she’s wearing a blue cotton dress with quilted pockets and her hair is braided to one side. Any words I prepared dissolve into a puddle like ice cream on a summer day. She’s stunning. Her eyes are bright and inquisitive, and somewhere deep inside them, I can tell that she’s happy to see me—if not a little confused.
“What are you doing here?” She must have the same anxious thought as me, because her gaze darts over to her brother’s door.
I hold out the food as a peace offering. “We had dinner plans.”
Kinley gives me an unimpressed look. “I don’t remember making plans.”
I feign confusion. “I distinctly remember you saying that I could eat you out any night of the week.”
Kinley flushes a bright shade of pink, holding the door open wider. “Oh my God, Saint. Shut up and get in here before he hears something.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Inside, we take a moment to just stare at each other. It’s only been ten or eleven hours since I saw her this morning, but this moment feels like something bigger.
Should I say something?
Eventually, Kinley breaks eye contact to peer suspiciously at the brown paper bag and plastic container in my hands. “Thai food?”
“You bet.”
“And is that a cake?”
“Specially made.”
A rogue smile pulls at her mouth. “Are you trying to bribe me?”
“Less of a bribe. More of an apology.” I tilt the container so she can read the sugary message written in loopy cursive.
“Sorry? For what?” She takes it from me with genuine confusion in her eyes.
“For not telling you what I do for a living.”
Kinley sighs softly. I can tell she’s not mad at me, and my relief at that is instantaneous. “I’m really the one who should apologize. Walker was totally out of line this morning, and—”
“I didn’t know he was your brother, for the record. If I did, I would have stayed far,faraway.”
She smiles softly. “Well then, I’m glad you didn’t know. For the record.”
We grin at each other, having fallen naturally back into our familiar conversational rhythm. Wordlessly, she leads me to the table where we set out the food and settle in together to eat.
Kinley moans through a mouthful of noodles. “How did you know I was craving exactly this?”
I shrug. “Something you said to me the first time we met. Lucky guess.”
