The Rebound, page 10
“Oh, come on . . .”
When I hear Kinley fussing in the kitchen with the water filter, I think better of it. She needs me here. It would be classic Saint to bail, but the new and improved me isn’t such a coward. So far.
With a little adjusting, I manage to get my semi under control before Kinley returns with two glasses of ice water.
She hands one to me. “Here you go.”
I tip the glass to my mouth and chug, feeling less and less like an animal in heat every time the ice hits my teeth. When I finish, I wipe my lips with the back of my hand. “Thanks.”
“Thank you.”
“All in a day’s work. Hey, where did you want me to put those stencils of the hot air balloons? I was thinking the wall above the crib would . . .” I trail off when I see the far-off look on her face. “You okay?”
She blinks at me like she forgot I was there for a second. “Oh . . . I’m fine. Physically, for once.”
“And mentally?”
She pauses, taking a swig of her own water before she responds. “I think it all just hit me.”
“What did?”
“Everything. I’m about to have a child as a single parent. I have almost no one to rely on outside of you and Walker.”
“Kin, neither of us are gonna let anything bad happen to—”
“I know, I know. I’m not ungrateful. I kind of feel the opposite. Unworthy.”
When I try to object, she waves the thought away.
“It’s just, what about when the season starts? Walker and I fell out of touch for a reason, you know. It was pretty much impossible to reach him. He was so busy. Understandably,” she says quickly, rambling like she does when she’s nervous, “since the stakes are so high in professional sports. But what am I going to do if I need help and neither of you are around?”
I gingerly place my hands on her shoulders and turn her until she’s looking at me straight. “Hey, listen to me. It’s gonna be okay. He and I may not see eye to eye on most things these days, but at least we agree on one thing. Taking care of you. There’s no chance you’ll ever be without at least one of us. I promise.”
Skeptical, she tilts her head. “What about games? What about travel?”
Kinley has a point there. Unless Reeves gets his way and I’m officially suspended next season, we’re both going to be out of town a lot. She has a right to be concerned.
Instead of trying to ease her worries with meaningless words, I tuck away all my instincts to just make it better and listen for once in my damn life.
“What do you need, Kin? I’ll make it happen.”
She looks at me like I don’t know what I just offered. Little does she know, I’d do just about anything for her.
“Um, an entire team of professional caretakers would be great. And more baby clothes. And diapers. God, I’m gonna need so many diapers. Ugh, why am I crying?”
I wipe a stray tear from the soft ridge of her cheekbone. She leans into my touch, resting her head against my hand momentarily before sighing wetly. Dang, just the sight of her feeling so vulnerable has me tied up in knots.
Sniffing away her tears, she looks up at me and says softly, “I just need to know everything is going to be all right.”
“It is. I promise you.” An idea occurs to me, and I spout it out before it’s fully formed. “One thing at a time. First, I’m going to throw you a baby shower.”
“What? No, Saint, I don’t know if I love that idea.”
“Come on, what’s not to love? Friends, family, themed snacks, dumb games . . . gifts.”
“Gifts?” This grabs her interest.
“All the gifts. Diapers and baby clothes.”
“I guess that’s not such a bad idea. But who would you invite on such short notice? I have like zero friends here.”
I shrug. “The team and their wives.”
Kinley shakes her head. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t want anyone to feel pressured to buy me anything. Most of them don’t even know me.”
“That’s not true. You know Aspen and Summer. And didn’t you say they offered to help with baby stuff? They would love nothing more than to pick out the cutest onesie. Hell, we could make it a competition. Liven things up.”
Frowning, she gives me an unconvinced shrug. “What about the guys? I don’t know any of them.”
“As one of them, I can assure you that they’d like nothing more than to have an excuse to sit around and drink beer for a few hours.”
Kinley finally cracks a smile. “Fair enough. I guess I could help with—”
“Ah, ah, ah.” Playfully, I waggle a finger at her. “Nope. I don’t need your help. I’ve got this.”
She arches an eyebrow. “You sure?”
I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before. With Reeves and me traveling so often during the season, Kinley is going to need to build a community of people who can be there for her, help her out in a pinch. This is perfect.
“What, you don’t have faith in me?”
She chews on this thought for a moment, her eyes softening.
“Of course I do,” she murmurs, but almost as soon as the words leave her lips, she gives me a firm look. “Just don’t do anything crazy, okay? No dumb diaper games. One tasteful game, tops.”
“Copy that.”
• • •
A little while before the gang is due to arrive, I finish tying a tangle of balloons on the front door of my condo with a flourish, turning to my friend Lydia with a smile. “What do you think?”
She looks up from where she’s filling a cooler with bottles of craft beer, fixing me with an unimpressed glare from under her dyed-blue bangs. “Aren’t balloons a choking hazard?”
“The baby isn’t here yet. Hence the shower.”
“Right. When’s the main attraction getting here, anyway?” she asks, sliding a beer across the counter to me before she cracks open one of her own.
I check my watch. “About fifteen minutes.”
Damn, time flies when you’re hanging streamers.
I’m hosting the shower at my place so Kinley didn’t have the added pressure of having to clean her condo, or deal with the aftermath of a party.
“This is my first baby shower,” Alex says when he walks through the door, Aspen close on his heels.
I accept the six-pack of IPA he’s holding and nod. “I can tell.”
Aspen laughs and holds up two expertly wrapped baby gifts. “We brought these too.”
Logan and Summer head in next.
“Want anything, Saint?” Logan asks, and I hold my beer up in response.
“You did such a good job decorating,” Aspen says with a gasp that would offend me if I didn’t know her so well. “You could have asked me for help, you know.”
“Ah, it was no big deal. I had Lydia’s help.”
Lydia scoffs at the sound of her name. She’s the owner of one of the bars I frequent and is an old friend from college.
Our relationship is pretty love-hate, based on how many times she’s had me thrown out of her establishment. In all fairness, I can be a sloppy drunk, so I always come back the next morning to pay my tab and leave a big fat apology tip. On more than one occasion, I’ve bought her flowers to make up for starting a fight the night before.
I’m lucky that she had her first kid last year and knows the ins and outs of baby showers. I did have to drop a sizable chunk of cash in her palm to convince her to come and help me set up, but that’s neither here nor there.
One by one, couple by couple, my condo fills up with familiar faces and voices. Lucien and Camille, Coach Wilder, even Les.
Eventually, the door swings open to reveal Reeves, looking as disapproving as ever. He holds the door open wide for Kinley, who steps over the threshold like there’s a trip wire waiting to ignite the whole place.
Wearing a long, flowy summer dress that looks like a watercolor painting fucked a tropical bird, she’s like some fertility goddess blessing us mere mortals with her ethereal presence. For a long moment, I just stare at her, because she really is beautiful.
I catch her eye and beckon her toward me, not missing how Reeves makes a beeline for the couches where the rest of the guys are lounging, instead of joining us. I almost appreciate the lack of subtlety.
“Hey,” I say to Kinley with my most charming smirk. “You look incredible.”
“Thanks,” she says, a little wide-eyed and wondrous. “I feel like a whale. You hung streamers?”
“I did. C’mon.”
I lead her toward the armchair in the living room. It’s comfy as hell, proven by the fact that I had to kick Alex out of it not two minutes ago.
Kinley sinks into the chair as she sizes up all the bodies surrounding her—most of them big, burly male bodies. If I weren’t one of them, I guess I’d be pretty intimidated too.
“Comfy?” I give her a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, which seems to snap her out of whatever reverie she was just in.
“Yeah, thank you.” She smiles up at me. “I can’t believe you actually did all this. You must be exhausted.”
“Me? Nah. We’ve barely gotten started. Can I get you some water? Seltzer? Juice?”
“Seltzer would be awesome.”
“One seltzer coming right up.”
I turn on my heel and nearly run smack into Aspen and Summer, who have obviously been lurking over my shoulder, waiting for an audience with Kinley.
“Is this guy bothering you?” Aspen asks playfully as Summer grins over her shoulder.
Kinley throws her head back and laughs.
Summer nudges me away. “Go on. Get.”
“I’m gone, I’m gone.” I chuckle as I make myself scarce. Those girls are something else.
When I come back with Kinley’s drink, she’s completely immersed in a conversation with Summer and Logan, her gaze darting between the two as she listens intently to what I’m sure is the story of how they met. It’s a good story, from what I can remember, so I don’t interrupt. I pass off her drink, and she shoots me a grateful look before focusing back on the conversation.
The door swings open again, and Eden waltzes into my condo like she owns it, with her husband, Holt, on her arm. This is the first time I’ve seen her since the suspension meeting, so when she flashes a genuine smile at me, I can barely believe it.
“Hey, Eden, thanks for coming. Holt.”
Holt’s handshake is a death grip, as usual. He gives me a short nod and turns to Eden, gesturing with a gift bag so large, it could hold a small child. “I’ll put this with the other gifts.”
Eden turns to me to answer the question I didn’t ask. “It’s brimming with athleisure loungewear and maternity robes. I figured everyone’s getting stuff for the baby, so I took it upon myself to pamper the mother.”
I give her an impressed chuckle. “How thoughtful of you. I didn’t think you had it in you, boss.”
Eden throws her head back with the laugh of a matriarch dealing with a dirty peasant. “Oh, Saint. I’ve barely thought about you at all lately, and believe me, that’s a blessing for both of us. Good to see your face.”
With that, she leaves me at the door and runway walks to Kinley, who’s doing a great deer caught in the headlights impression. I thought I’d have to introduce her around, but I can barely keep up with everyone. I guess it’s been a while since I was in a social setting like this.
Later, when Eden gets distracted by the promise of Lydia’s fruity cocktails in the kitchen, I find an opening. I crouch down to Kinley’s level, placing a hand on her knee before I remember that her brother is within swinging distance.
“How are you feeling? Need anything?”
“Honestly, I’m good.” And from the looks of it, she is. She’s all glowing and smiling, picking at a plate of grapes and party mix.
“Huh. You’re kinda an extrovert, aren’t you?”
She shrugs happily. “More than kinda. I love being around people.”
“Me too.”
I have the overwhelming urge to drop a kiss on her forehead when I stand, but instead, I catch Reeves’s eye from where he sits with Lucien. He nods to me, and I think I’m meant to take that as an invitation to come talk to him.
Here goes nothing, I guess.
Lucien spots me approaching and practically leaps from the couch to return to Camille’s side in the dining room, where she’s chatting with Coach and Les.
No witnesses if shit gets murderous. Great.
“Hey, man, how’s it going? Can I get you another drink?” I say as I approach Reeves, feeling on edge immediately. What do they say? Kill ’em with kindness.
His brows drawn together, he gestures around the room with a half-empty beer bottle as he grumbles, “This party turned out pretty nice. You did all this?”
He sounds so skeptical that I’m kind of annoyed. “More or less.”
“And what do you get out of it?”
Is this a trick question? “It’s not about me.”
His narrowed eyes widen ever so slightly. “Well, thanks.”
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 on your ass 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.”
She blinks, her expression unreadable. “Good night. I’ll text you.”
“You’d better.”
I step back into the hall and stand outside her door for a solid minute, wondering if Kinley is still lingering on her side.
Does she still want me? Does she really see me as just a friend? I don’t know what to think anymore.
All I know is that I gotta get my imagination under control before it gets the better of me again.
13
* * *
KINLEY
She’s a good friend.
Saint’s comment about his “friend” Lydia is knocking around in my head like a dang pinball, interrupting my nighttime routine. It threw me because he’s never talked about her before.
Is she new in his life? Are they seeing each other?
After removing my makeup with a cleansing wipe, I splash cold water on my face in an effort to knock some sense into my head. If they are seeing each other, he would definitely tell me. Right? We’re friends. Friends tell each other stuff like that.
But at the same time, Saint and I aren’t really just friends, are we? I mean, I guess we could qualify as friends with benefits. Or we did.
Maybe he doesn’t want to tell me about the new girl in his life because he thinks it could be awkward for me. Or maybe they’ve been seeing each other this whole time, even while he and I were hooking up.
Oh God, that’s the worst thought ever. But my brother was pretty insistent that Saint is bad news, so . . .
