Page 44 of The Rebound
What? Did I just slip into some bizarro alternate reality where Reeves doesn’t hate my guts unequivocally?
“Of course. Happy to help.”
I almost say something about Kinley being worth the trouble, but I don’t want to push my luck. I’d bet my life on the chance that he never wants to hear her name come from my mouth ever again.
The rest of the afternoon goes by without so much as a hitch. After one raucous game—only one game, as per Kinley’s request—involving trivia about celebrity babies, the party dies down.
While Aspen trades a good-bye hug with Kinley by the door, Alex pulls me aside. “You’ll tell me when the jig is up, right?”
“What the fuck are you talking about? Are you drunk?”
“Maybe. Aspen’s driving. But really, all this for Reeves’s sister? What are you up to?”
I sigh. I should have seen this one coming. My friends know a version of me that I’m trying hard to shed, the one with his fingers crossed behind his back while he tells pretty lies. The one who cares about himself, first and foremost.
“Would you believe me if I just said that I care about her?”
Alex blinks. “Yeah, I believe you.”
Surprised, I blink back. That was unexpectedly easy. “Well, there you go.”
Alex shakes his head with a knowing smile. “You’re lucky I’m a better guy than you, or you’d have a tattoo onyourass by the start of the season. An eggplant emoji.”
“All right, fuck off.” I chuckle, spinning him toward the door. He’s of course referring to a bet I made with him where he lost and had to get a tattoo on his ass.
One by one, the guests depart, most of whom I’m sure will be continuing the party elsewhere. Normally, I’d join them, but not tonight.
“I asked Lydia if she needed any help in the kitchen, but she pretty much slammed the door on me,” Kinley mumbles. “If your kitchen had a door.”
“Yeah, she’s a treat, that one. C’mon, I’ll help you carry all the gifts to your place.”
It takes us four trips, but soon enough Kinley’s trove of treasures is piled high in her living room and it’s time to say good night.
She walks me to the door slowly. Reluctantly, if I were reading into it. “Can I help you clean up your place?”
“Nah, Lydia’s gonna stick around for a while and help. Thanks, though.”
“Lydia,” Kinley murmurs under her breath.
“She’s a good friend. Seemed like you made a lot of friends yourself tonight.”
“Yeah,” Kinley says with a content sigh. “I got Camille’s number.”
“It’ll be good to have another mom on call.”
“Exactly.” She pauses at the door, her hand on the knob. “Thank you for tonight. For everything.”
A familiar feeling I can’t quite name blooms in my chest. “Anytime.”
“I mean it, Saint.” Her expression is soft, and her eyes linger on mine.
“I mean it too.”
We stand there for what feels like a lifetime, like we’re trying to memorize each other’s faces. And with how often Kinley’s gaze drops to my lips, I think she wants me to kiss her. Or maybe I just want to kiss her.
Fuck, there I go again. Projecting my own desires.
Not wanting to misread the situation any more than I already have, I just crack an easy smile. “Good night, Kinley.”
