Page 29 of The Rebound
Hey Kin. I knocked on Saint’s door last night to talk to him, man to man. He didn’t answer.
I checked this morning too.
Is he with you?
Kin the guy is bad news. You don’t know his history.
My stomach sinks as I continue to read.
I could tell you myself but if you’ve googled him even once you should have a pretty good idea what he’s really like.
Saint is already close to being suspended. I’m obligated to keep an eye on him, but I don’t want to have to tell Coach he’s fooling around with my little sister.
I’ve worked with him for years. If he is ultimately suspended, he’ll spiral and you will get caught up in his shitstorm.
It’s not worth it.
Kin, call me.
That’s the end of the texts, and despite waking up in a happy mood, I press a hand to my stomach, which is starting to churn. I put my phone facedown on my lap and take a few deep breaths.
I want to cry. Or throw my phone against the wall. This is too much. Against my better judgment, I listen to the voice mails too.
“Hey, Kinley, I know it’s early but I need you to call me back.”
“Kin, I’m really worried about you. I didn’t hear back from you last night. I thought about busting down your door, but I obviously didn’t want to do that because that’s crazy, for one, and also because I want to give you space to make your own decisions and live your own life. I just ... call me back, okay? I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
“Okay, officially starting to feel like a lunatic. Saint isn’t home, so I have to assume the two of you are together. You said yourself that you’ve been spending every waking moment with him. I didn’t think it through when I moved you in this building. I should have known. I’m really worried he’s doing this to get some sort of revenge on me ... I’ve always given the guy a hard time, and I may have taken it too far lately with his suspension on the table. I just don’t want you to be sucked in when he goes off the deep end. Just call me so we can talk it out.”
I don’t know how long I’ve been staring at the wall when Saint walks back into the bedroom. He’s bare-chested with a white towel wrapped low around his hips. A thick trail of steam follows him from the hall, fogging up my mirror.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he says before seeing my expression. “Hey ... what’s going on? Are you okay?”
I meet his wide-eyed expression with an empty sigh. “Not really.”
He kneels in front of me, droplets still clinging to his wet hair. “What is it? The baby?”
“No,” I choke out. “I just can’t do this anymore.”
“Do what, sweetheart?”
“This was the last time. I’m so sorry.”
“The last—”
“We can’t see each other anymore.”
“Kinley, if this is about your brother, I can talk to him. I can—”
I lean in and press a chaste kiss to Saint’s full lips, savoring the way he automatically kisses me back. It’s all too sudden, too dramatic. But this is the way it has to be, right?
Boundaries and all that. Doctor’s orders.
Without another word, I climb out of bed and beeline toward the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
First, I pee for like forty-three years because that’s just my life now. Then I crank the shower knob, letting the hot water steam up the room to sauna-like levels. I take a long shower—the kind you spend contemplating your life choices and where they’ve led you up to this point.
When I’m finally done, Saint is gone.
