Page 88 of Rebound
“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” He’s not even touching me anymore, and my body is already tilting forward towards him.
Please make me a little uncomfortable, in a totally consensual and sexy way.
“I’m so glad you agree that we need boundaries in our relationship, so things don’t get complicated. We wouldn’t want anything to change our friendship.”
Roman’s smile is breathtaking and casual. I narrow my eyes at him. I know him well enough by now to know he’s not agreeing with me as easily as he’s making it seem.
“I’m going to let Mom know that you’ll be coming for Thanksgiving dinner, unless you have other plans?”
“No plans. I’ll be there.”
I text Mom so I don’t forget. Roman asks me if I want to stay for dinner and I decline because I can’t stay in his apartment without going back on everything we talked about.
It’s going to be a very long, very horny, hockey season.
I call Jules as I’m driving back to our place.
“I thought he would have seduced you by now,” she answers. “Unless this is a post-sex phone call.”
I laugh at her ridiculousness. “There was no sex. I’m on my way back home.”
“What’s the point of having a husband you’re insanely sexually attracted to if there’s no sex?” Jules sounds so confused.
“I don’t want sex to complicate anything between us,” I reply.
I signal to change lanes and as I glance at the side mirror, I see there’s a bike following me. My mouth drops open. In all of Boston, it can be literally anyone who’s riding that bike. But I know someone who doesn’t care about the weather when it comes to being on his motorcycle.
“I think Roman is following me,” I tell Jules. I change lanes and look in the rearview mirror. The biker also changes lanes with me.
Jules laughs in disbelief. “Are you serious? He’s actually stalking you now?”
“I don’t remember him being this intense when we were kids.”
“He probably didn’t develop his stealth stalking skills until later,” Jules muses.
“He’s not being stealth. He’s right behind me. What the fuck are you doing?!” The last part I shout to the driver of the car in front of me, who changes lanes without signaling and almost sideswipes me.
“Ah, the road rage is back,” Jules says with amusement.
“I wouldn’t have road rage if people learned to drive a fucking car.” My heart is beating so fast right now. “I’m sorry for screaming.”
“That’s okay. I love all your flaws.”
I prefer to be the passenger princess, for the very reason that I occasionally get road rage. It doesn’t happen all the time. Sometimes if I’m stuck in traffic and listening to audiobooks, I don’t even care that you almost hit another car. Then there are times when I can’t understand the stupidity of people.
“I’m pulling into the garage now,” I tell Jules. “I’ll talk to you later. Right now, I have to yell at my husband.”
“Go get him.”
I disconnect the call and exit the car, turning to the biker who’s followed me into the garage. “What are you doing?”
Roman removes the helmet, running a hand through his hair. How did he even get down to the garage, get on his bike, and follow me halfway home without me noticing? Maybe he really does have stealth stalking skills.
“Making sure you get home safe.” He sounds so reasonable when he says it.
“On the roads I’ve been driving on since I was sixteen?”
“Did you see the car which almost sideswiped you?” Now he sounds like I’m the one being unreasonable.
