Page 37 of The Rebel (Looking to Score 1)
I shove my earbuds into my ears and crank up my music, trying to tune out my own tumultuous thoughts. It doesn’t work, and I spend the flight feeling agitated.
• • •
Two hours later, we’ve landed and deplaned in Detroit. It’s colder than I expected, and the sky is gray. It’s not exactly a warm welcome.
I catch up to Eden on the tarmac as everyone waits to board the bus that will take us to the hotel. She’s dressed in a sleek black coat and carrying a large leather purse.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
She smiles at my concern. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
“Did you have a good flight?”
She nods. “I did. I wanted to nap, but instead Aspen and I mapped out some work I want to do on an upcoming charity campaign this holiday season.”
“That’s good.”
She nods.
I can feel her assistant, Aspen, watching us. Something between Eden and me feels strained, and I have no idea why.
“Any plans tonight?” I ask, taking my turn to board the bus.
Eden sits down in the seat behind me. “Not really. I’m sure some of the guys will go out to dinner, but I’m kind of tired, honestly. I’ll probably just stay in. Maybe take a bath, order some room service, and turn in early.”
When I meet her eyes, I can guess at what she isn’t saying. She’s nervous—about the game, most likely. Or maybe about being alone with me again. But that can’t be true, can it? I’m probably only imagining the chemistry between us.
“Okay, well, if you need anything, I’m in the room next to yours,” I say, giving her one last look before I face forward again.
She doesn’t say anything else.
At the hotel, I escort Eden to her room and then let myself into mine, which is right next door. I glance in her direction as she uses the keycard to unlock her door. “Well, enjoy.”
I try to sound nonchalant, but inside I’m as chalant as fuck. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I feel so on edge, I could burst. Since I’m not needed, but there’s no way I can relax, I change into my gym clothes and decide to hit the hotel’s workout facility, which is two floors down.
I don’t even feel like working out. My heart’s not in it, but I need to clear my head. Need to blow off some steam, and it’s either fuck something—hard—or run and lift weights. So I obviously do the latter.
I crank up the pace on the treadmill while loud, angry music blares in my ears.
I’ve been fighting with myself for days, ever since I came back into Eden’s life. Fighting to remind myself of all the things that I can never have, Eden included.
After thirty minutes on the treadmill, now breathless and sweaty, I move over to the free weights. The gym leaves a lot to be desired, especially after I’ve become so spoiled with the team’s training facility. But still, it does the job. As I bang out set after set of bicep curls, my mind wanders.
Of course it wanders straight to a certain five-foot-something powerhouse who totally blew me off earlier. I’m not sure why her brush-off should feel so significant. Maybe it’s because I’ve been down this road before.
Just as I finish up one last set of shoulder presses, my phone buzzes with a text. I pick it up and glance at it.
It’s Eden, and my heart jumps.
Can we talk?
13
* * *
EDEN
Nerves fill my stomach as I wait for Holt’s reply. But I shouldn’t have been worried, because it comes less than ten seconds later.
Sure.
It’s only one word, but now I’m nervous for an entirely different reason.
I type out in reply, Come by my room.
Aspen put me in a hotel room right next to Holt’s, in case I needed him for security reasons at a moment’s notice. And a few minutes later, there’s a knock.
When I tug the door open, it certainly seems like I caught him in the middle of a moment. His hair is dripping wet, like my text might have interrupted his shower, and his not-quite-towel-dried body makes his fitted charcoal V-neck cling even tighter to his chest.
“Everything okay?” he asks, his gray eyes clouded with concern.
“Yes, I’m fine. Sorry, I know it’s late.” I step back from the doorway, and he joins me inside. “Have you eaten dinner yet?”
“Not yet. I just finished working out. Well, actually, I just finished a shower, but before that I was squeezing in a workout.”
As he talks, he works one hand through his damp hair, allowing me to catch the slightest whiff of mint and eucalyptus. Definitely the hotel bodywash. It’s a change from his usual woodsy, earthy scent, and I can’t help but admire the way his biceps flex as he tries to air-dry his hair with his hands.
