Page 11 of The Rebel (Looking to Score 1)
But for one blissful night, she was mine. She bandaged me up and laid her head on my chest, the scent of her floral shampoo filling my head and affecting my judgment.
On paper, we don’t make sense. Her family is practically royalty, her father the former governor of Massachusetts. Old money, with a mansion in the city and a vacation cottage in Chappaquiddick. Yeah, they’ve had their fair share of scandals, but that’s how it is with the wealthy. Sometimes they get caught, and other times their transgressions get swept quietly under the rug. That’s just the way it is.
My family? It’s a stretch to even call them that. We share DNA and nothing else.
I have an older brother doing time for armed robbery, a father who split when I was little, and a mom who’s been in and out of rehab so many times, I’ve lost count. We didn’t have big family gatherings or a turkey on the table at Thanksgiving when I was growing up, and there weren’t wrapped presents under the tree for me when I was little. By the time I hit my teens, all I wanted in the world was my shot to get out.
In high school, I applied for every scholarship I could find. When the letter from Sutton University came offering me a full ride, for a second, I almost threw it in the trash. It was too good to be true. My older brother was probably fucking with me, sending it as a joke.
Except it wasn’t a joke. The letter was real, printed on Sutton’s letterhead. I ran my thumb across that raised emblem so many times, I wore it down to practically nothing.
The email address for the lady in admissions was real too. She replied two days later with all the details about my financial aid package.
Going to Sutton got me out, just like I’d always wanted. But the girls I met there, girls like Eden? Well, I knew they’d never want a guy like me, not once they learned the truth. And I told Eden so much of my truth that night.
Looking back, I have no idea why I even did it. Normally, I’m so guarded with my history. The less people know, the better. But those big blue eyes locked onto mine, and all this shit started spilling out like word vomit. I couldn’t lie to her. And having the chance to keep that pretty blue gaze directed my way for a while . . . it felt damn good.
But just as I predicted, by morning, the spell was broken and Eden was gone. Never to return to my bed.
I have to say, though, I didn’t expect her to be the one to tame Braun. The guy was a douche and a player, but it seemed, at least for a time, that he set aside his playboy ways and became devoted only to her.
Seeing them together was a punch to the gut. Catching glimpses of them on campus was one thing, but seeing them together on the news sites was another.
Eden only grew more beautiful with age, and my resentment for Alex Braun deepened with each passing year. They were the media’s golden couple, constantly photographed together at hockey games and charity events. Paparazzi hiding in palm trees even caught shots of them stealing relaxing moments at a tropical resort in the Caribbean.
Fucking annoying is what it was. Especially because the closest thing I’ve ever had to a tropical vacation was that time I took a wrong turn on the interstate and ended up on Long Island.
And now I’m here—at Elite Airlines Arena—about to come face-to-face with Eden Wynn again.
I don’t follow the news coverage of her these days like I used to. But I know she and Braun broke up. That her grandfather died, and she’s now the owner of the Boston Titans.
Her high-profile job means she’s attracted some enemies, and it’s going to be my job to protect her.
Time will tell if I can do that without losing a piece of myself again.
• • •
Six years is a long time. I should have been more prepared. But maybe you never fully get over the one who got away. Maybe there will always be some small part of me that wonders . . . what if?
And when I enter Eden’s office, my first thought is not a very professional one.
Holy hell. I want to bite into her like a cookie.
My greedy eyes drink her in . . . from her long dark-blond hair that curls slightly at the ends, to her killer figure encased in a simple black pencil skirt and a silk top. Her eyes are as blue as I remember, but they seem deeper, wiser somehow.
I guess that makes sense. She’s been through some shit since I last saw her, losing her grandfather and enduring a very public breakup. Things like that can take a toll on a person.
