Page 73 of Rebound

I find a washcloth and run it under cold water before wiping it over the back of her neck. She lifts her head, allowing me to wipe her forehead too. Her eyes flutter closed. “That feels nice.”

“Let’s get you off these hard tiles, baby.”

I scoop her up off the floor, and she doesn’t even murmur any kind of protest. Instead, she curls her body into mine, and I carry her downstairs and sit down on the sofa with her on my lap, wrapping my arms around her. “Do you need anything? Water? Saltines?”

“Nothing right now,” she mumbles.

“When you are able to drink a little, I brought some of those rehydration packets.”

She makes a fake vomiting noise now. “Those things are vile.”

“I know, baby, but they’re the best way to replace lost fluids. So you’ll be taking some. Okay?”

“You’re so bossy.” I bite my tongue so I don’t remind her that I haven’t scratched the surface of bossy. Because if I were to stray close to that territory, I would insist on her having a chef to cook her meals so she doesn’t poison herself with dodgy takeout again.

When I place a kiss on the top of her hair, I can’t help but smile. Being with her is the only place I want to be, so if being grateful that she got sick and is letting me take care of her makes me a selfish asshole, then that’s just what I am.

“This changes nothing, Elijah,” she says quietly, burrowing her head against my chest.

I press a kiss her forehead now. “I know.”

“It means a lot to me that you’re here though. I really do hate being alone when I’m sick.”

“I know.”

She rests her hand on my chest, directly over my heart. “Thank you for choosing me.”

I did choose her today, and that’s a good start, but it’s not enough. I should have chosen her every single time, and if she decides to give me another shot, I will never miss another opportunity to put her first.

ChapterThirty-Four

AMBER

Ihad no clue how much I needed a girls’ night until I was in the middle of one. It was all Amelia’s idea. She told me it was time I had a housewarming and that she and a few friends would be over on Saturday. I couldn’t exactly object—she owns the place. Besides, I told myself, this is my time of firsts, and this is the first time I’ve lived alone. Hosting friends sounded lovely.

I spoke to Granny Lucille earlier in the day, and she talked me through making Planter’s Punch for everyone. I laid out chips and dips, and Amelia assured me that they would bring everything else.

It’s a far cry from the society events I’m used to organizing, but as I watch Amelia tie tinsel around her head and down her third glass of punch, I decide that it’s a lot more fun.

She arrived first, bearing an armful of cannoli from Wanda’s, and soon after, her pal Kimmy showed up with a stack of pizzas. Emily supplied enough booze to get the whole of Brooklyn drunk, and Melanie turned up with the most unexpected item—a Christmas tree.

I was nervous when Amelia told me Nathan’s wife was coming. He and I range somewhere between indifferent and archnemesis, depending on the mood we’re in. The tree definitely broke the ice. It’s massive, and her driver had to help her inside with it. Teddy gave me a respectful nod on his way out, after looking around the small house with interest.

“I wonder,” I said to Melanie as she stared up at the monster fir, “if the James family drivers have a Christmas party. Can you imagine the secrets they know? The things they’ve heard and seen?”

She winced slightly. Hah. I’m guessing Nathan’s limo has seen its share of drama too. “My god. I never thought of that. I hope not—they must think we’re a bunch of complete lunatics.”

“They’d be right. Can I get you a punch?”

She happily accepted, and I felt my tension flee. That was almost three hours ago, and the tree is now decorated—on one side. Amelia brought out every single item she and her mom owned, but it still wasn’t enough. Nobody seems to care though, and Kimmy has started hanging silverware from it. Everyone is slightly tipsy, Christmas music is playing, and Emily is asking me about my new role at LOJ. It’s odd seeing her in this relaxed setting, but it’s nice to see a whole different side to her.

“Well, I’ve only been there a week, but so far so good,” I answer. “The kids are fantastic, and so is Sissie, the woman who runs the place. I’ve been doing the dance classes and helping out in the kitchens and generally being… useful. It’s nice. I haven’t felt useful for a very long time. Possibly ever, to be honest. My Granny Lucille once accused me of being a poor little rich girl, and I suspect she was right—but now, instead of feeling sorry for myself, I’m doing something about it.”

“That’s fantastic,” Melanie says, raising her glass to me. “I’d go crazy without my work. How does Elijah feel about it?”

I quirk an eyebrow at her, and she laughs. “I know, I know—you’re splitting up, and it has nothing to do with him. But if, heaven forbid, Nathan and I ever got a divorce—and I think Elijah might be the same—there’s no way he’d just stop being, um, how do I put this…”

“A controlling asshole?” Kimmy suggests helpfully.

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