Page 47 of Rebound
I want him. I want the way he makes me feel. I want his text messages, and his charming smile, and that devilish gleam he sometimes gets in his eyes.
Hypothetically speaking, how bad can it be if Roman and I date and break-up? Maybe we won’t break-up. Or maybe we’ll only have intense sexual chemistry and nothing else. Maybe the Earth will open up and swallow me whole so at thirty-two years old I don’t have to make a bad decision when it comes to my dating life.
“You’re going to bite your nail off,” Jules chides me.
I remove my thumb from my mouth and sit back against the chair.
“I’m nervous.”
She shrugs lightly, her eyes trained on her e-reader. She only watches the warm-ups because she likes the hip thrusts, buttoday even those aren’t holding her attention. It must be a really good book.
“You win some, you lose some.” Her tone is airy and she clearly doesn’t know what I’m talking about because I haven’t told her yet about my conversation with Roman. She thinks I’m nervous about the game.
“I told Roman I’ll go out with him tonight. Technically, I invited him to go dancing with us.”
Jules’s head whips up. “You did what?!”
People around us glance our way and I slide down in my chair. On rare occasions, I do get recognized at hockey games.
“Not so loud!” I hiss.
Jules lowers the e-reader and leans in close to me, her blue eyes wide. “You did what?!”
“I invited Roman to go dancing with us. It’s not a big deal. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”
Jules rests two fingers on her forehead as she shakes her head. “Vin! Vegas isn’t the Bermuda Triangle. It’s not as if time ceases to exist here. You’ll still have to see Roman.”
“Yeah, but it won’t matter. I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it,” I say.
Jules doesn’t get the chance to offer a rebuttal because Roman skates to a stop in front of us. He points to me then down at his jersey and then back at me.
“Oh, this is going to go so well.” Jules’s tone is sardonic.
“What?” I mouth at Roman.
He points to me again, then at his jersey, and then makes a pulling off motion like he’s removing it.
“Take it off,” he says.
At first, I think he’s telling me to undress and that’s more than a little crazy. I look down at myself and realize what could possibly have caused such a reaction. I’m wearing a hockey jersey. Kai’s, to be exact.
I don’t expect my insides to melt at Roman’s ridiculous demand, and yet they do. The possessiveness is hot. Kind of.
I smile at him sweetly, lowering my hand to the hem of the jersey, lifting it up only to drop it and give him the finger. No one is going to tell me what I can or can’t wear. For a second, Roman looks like he’s about to climb the boards.
Then Ford rushes from the side and drags him away because the game is about to start, and Roman doesn’t have the time to question my fashion choices.
I don’t wear a jersey to any of the games and when I do, it’s always Drew’s because he’s my brother and I want to support him. Sometimes, the only other player’s jersey I wear is Kai. I have my reasons, and one of them is definitely that Kai deserves to know someone is rooting for him as much as the other players.
“I never thought it’d be hot if a man did that in real life, but I was wrong,” Jules says. “Guess you learn something about yourself every day.”
“You really do,” I agree.
For example, I learned that I like making Roman jealous and that he’s cute when he’s possessive. All things I shouldn’t know about my brother’s teammate.
I feel Jules looking at me and I glance at her. She shakes her head slowly. “Is this a rebound thing or are you really into him?”
That’s certainly an interesting way of looking at things. I’ve never rebounded before. Technically, my past three relationships were rebounds, and that includes Josh.
