Page 45 of The Rebound
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 reallyjustfriends, 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 ...
I’ll bet they’re tangled up in each other on his kitchen island right now. He’s probably got his hands in her blue hair, and she’s got her red lips on his perfect neck, leaving her mark on him. Imagining Saint’s impressively sized erection being used for Lydia’s pleasure. My heart throbs painfully.
I brush my teeth harder than usual, as if I could scrub my thoughts clean with toothpaste. I’m the one who nipped our “benefits” in the bud, so I have absolutely no right to be spiteful now.
Saint can fuck whoever he damn well pleases. I don’t get an opinion.
Even as I tell myself this, I feel the jealousy reaching a boiling point deep inside me. In bed, I throw the covers over my head and hope these intrusive thoughts don’t infiltrate my dreams.
But behind my eyelids, all I can see is his face disappearing behind a closed door, over and over on an endless loop.
I wanted him to kiss me before he left. Maybe that’s selfish, but it’s true. He didn’t pick up on any of my cues.
What did I expect, for Saint to still be hopelessly into me? I can’t fault him for moving on when I’m the one who asked him to. He’s already doing enough for me as it is. He doesn’t owe me anything. Throwing me that baby shower today was already so extra.
Suddenly overheated, I throw the covers off with a huff. I don’t need to fall asleep to be trapped in a nightmare. If I continue to be so selfish, I may very well lose Saint for good.
Staring up into the darkness of my ceiling, I can’t imagine anything worse.
• • •
“Thisis your place? Oh my gosh, Kinley. You’re really moving up in the world.”
My cousin Martha does a slow three-sixty as she takes in my condo, her little twin boys mimicking her by spinning in rapid circles. They’re three years old with grinning mouthfuls of lopsided teeth, and use big-boy words likeactuallyandLamborghini. The sight of their silly antics makes me break into a fit of giggles along with them.
The day after my baby shower, Martha reached out to me, asking if she and the kids could visit on their way to meet up with her husband. He’s in New York on business for several days, and since they hadn’t taken a family vacation together in over a year, they decided to kill two birds with one stone.
I wasn’t sure how I would handle hosting a small family at thirty-eight weeks pregnant, but I’m honestly glad they’re here. Keeps my mind off how crappy I feel.
“Here, let me take your bags,” I say, reaching out.
Martha shakes her head vehemently. “Woman, you are pregnant. Haven’t you learned? No manual labor. Guest room over there?”
