Page 74 of Rebound

“No,” both Mel and I say at the same time.

“Well, sometimes,” she admits. “But mainly just protective.”

“They all are,” Amelia adds. “I can’t speak to Maddox and Mason, but Drake, Nathan, Elijah are all a little possessive. Gotta be honest—sorry, Kimmy, don’t shoot me—I find it kind of hot. When Drake gets that dark and intense look in his eyes… Yeah.” Her lips curve with a dreamy smile. “Like I said, kind of hot.” She blushes, and we all laugh with her. “Tell us about the bikers, Amber,” she adds, obviously trying to deflect attention.

“Oooh, bikers,” announces Kimmy, rubbing her hands together. “Now we’re talking. Are they the sexy kind?”

I sip my punch and grin. “Oh yes, they are. If you’re into tattoos and muscles and leather.”

“Fuck yes,” Kimmy cheers. “Can I get an invite totheirChristmas party?”

“Not sure they have one, but I’ll check for you. They’ve been really nice, actually. I’m even getting self-defense lessons from them.”

Kimmy makes a raucous remark about that, and the hilarity continues, and I make the most of it to escape briefly to the kitchen. This evening has been incredible, but I’m slightly overwhelmed. I’m unaccustomed to this level of intimacy, of being so vulnerable with people. I feel a little like a turtle out of its shell, wondering when a giant bird of prey is going to swoop down and peck me to death.

I check my phone and smile when I see a message from Elijah, but I also feel the urge to hide back in my shell. While it’s true that I love him, I also recognize that he’s dangerous. I still haven’t forgotten how I felt sitting alone in Greenwich Village, and the pain of that is forever lurking beneath the surface. Other than him taking care of me when I was sick, I haven’t seen him in a week.

The morning following my digestive system failure, he didn’t leave until after he made sure I was okay and told me what happened with Freddie. I’m pleased with the direction Elijah chose to go. Freddie deserves jail time, no doubt, but in the real world, it wouldn’t be that simple.

Martha has been in touch, and we’re due to meet soon as well. I have no idea how I feel about her now, and this evening has shown me what healthy female friendships can actually look like. Still, I will at least hear her out.

I type out a quick reply and attach a photo of the giant Christmas tree. I’ve relented a little on the space issue, allowing us to reconnect from a distance. He’s become my best friend again, just like the old days, and we talk on the phone and text more now than we have since college.

The poor thing is half naked.

Me too. I just had a massage.

I gulp. A massage? Where is he, and who’s he getting a massage from? And how naked is he? God, I bet he looks good, lying spread out and all oiled up, his muscles gleaming… I decide not to reply. I’ve had too much to drink, and no good will come of it. I’m interrupted anyway when Mel walks into the kitchen, and I guiltily shove my phone in my pocket. I can tell she noticed, but she simply gives me a small smile and gets herself a glass of water.

“Are you okay?” she asks, leaning against the counter and taking a sip. It’s the first time we’ve been alone together, and I hope it’s not going to be awkward.

“Sure. I’m actually a little tired. Truthfully, I’m usually in bed by ten.”

“It’s only just past that now,” she says, glancing at her watch. “But I probably need to be heading home soon. Nathan is great with Luke, but I don’t like being away from them for too long.”

I nod. I don’t want to talk about her husband—things could go south quickly. “Well, thanks for coming, Mel, it was nice to see you.”

“It was nice, wasn’t it? I wasn’t sure at first, when Amelia asked me to come along. Things are… complicated.”

I let out a little laugh. “That’s a polite way of putting it.”

“Look, just to clear the air, Amber—I am not my husband. I love and trust my husband, and he is usually one of the best judges of character I know. Very few people can read a person as well as Nathan. But I don’t make the mistake of thinking that he’s God, and I do have my own mind.”

“That must annoy him.”

“Yes, but he loves it really—gives us something to fight about. And that gives us a reason to have fantastic make-up sex. Anyway. I had a great time, and I hope we see each other again.”

On impulse, I lean forward and give her a quick hug. She looks surprised but pleased.

“You should bring Luke to the center,” I say, again without really thinking it through. “If you want to, that is.”

“He might be a little young for dancing,” she says, laughing.

“We actually have quite a few babies and toddlers who come with their older siblings. They seem to really enjoy the music and the motion.”

She thinks about it, then nods, smiling. “Maybe I will. Right, I’m going to make a move. I’ll see what the mood is like out there.”

The mood, it turns out, is mixed. Amelia announces that she’s heading back to Tribeca and shares a ride with Melanie. Emily and Kimmy, much to everyone’s amusement, decide that they’re going barhopping, both wearing tinsel garland as necklaces. They tried to persuade me to join them, but I genuinely am tired. I wave everyone off and then do a quick clean-up, filling a trash bag and putting the glasses in the dishwasher. I snap a picture of the empty punch bowl and send it to Granny Lucille to show her what a success it was.

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