Page 52 of The Rebel (Looking to Score 1)
Well, allow me to immediately take that back. There’s one thing—one person, rather—who could make me leap a full foot away from this man, and she just waltzed through the door.
“M—Mom?” I stutter, jumping to my feet and quickly finger-combing my hair. “What the h—heck are you doing here?”
Holt’s eyes widen as he silently mouths a question. Did you know she was coming?
I shake my head, then plaster on a smile as my mother’s heels click around the corner. Her brows shoot up and she presses a hand to her chest when she sees I’m not alone.
“Oh, I beg your pardon. Didn’t the front desk notify you that I was coming up?”
“My phone is still in my purse,” I say, instantly regretting that choice. Unless I’m working, I don’t really text anyone other than Gretchen and Holt these days. I didn’t even think to grab it.
“That’s very concerning,” she murmurs through pursed lips. “Anyone could wander in here off the streets.” She quickly appraises Holt, then turns her thin-lipped frown back to me.
“I promise, I’ve never had a security issue,” I tell her, biting back the until now that I’d like to tack onto that statement. I love my mother, I really do, but now is not the time for a surprise visit.
“I heard you weren’t traveling with the team tonight and thought I’d swing by to say hello. I didn’t realize you already had company.”
Well, I guess we’re doing introductions now. Love that for me.
“This is Holt Rossi. He’s head of the security firm we hired on for the Titans this year.” I gesture to Holt and he shoves up from the couch, clearing his throat before extending a hand to her.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Wynn.”
She places her hand in his, confusion written all over her small features. “I go by Baker now.” And then the crease in her brow deepens. “I hadn’t heard about additional security.”
“Just an extra precaution for Eden,” Holt says gruffly, then shifts his gaze back to me. “I should get going. Glad we could talk through those security guidelines, ma’am.”
I offer him a sad smile. As grateful as I am that he’s sparing us any further awkwardness by playing it professional, a pang of guilt twinges in my chest that he feels like he has to lie about why he’s here. “Thanks for everything, Holt.”
“Have a great evening,” my mother says, her tone sweet and genuine. But before Holt can leave, she turns back to me with a sharp frown. “Eden, honey, I thought you took the weekend off. Why are you bringing work home with you? You need time off. Maybe you need a date.”
Little does she know that she just interrupted one.
19
* * *
HOLT
When my phone chimes with another text, I assume it’s Madden again. He and I have been going back and forth about this week’s schedule, in addition to him giving me a relentless ribbing over his perceived crush I have on Eden. Little does he know how true his words were, though I played it off well.
But when I check the screen, it’s not a text from Madden. It’s Eden. I made it home from her place a little while ago so she could visit with her mom. Her text is a welcome distraction from work.
I park my ass on the stool in the kitchen and read her note. I’m so sorry about my mom.
That’s okay, I write back.
Little bubbles bounce on my screen for a few seconds. I know she can be a bit much.
I type out my reply with a smirk on my lips. Maybe she was right. Maybe you do need a date.
Ha-ha, she writes. Then she adds a laughing-face emoji.
Alone in my kitchen, I chuckle and take another sip from the bottle of water sitting beside me. Another text comes through from Madden, but I ignore it. Then I dial Eden’s number, and she answers on the first ring.
“Hey.” She sounds slightly breathless, or maybe just surprised that I called instead of replying to her text. But I’m not really a texting kind of guy.
“I’m serious. About that date. Could I take you out sometime?”
She’s quiet for a second, and I wonder what she’s thinking. “We’ve never had one of those.”
“I know. I thought it might be time.”
My voice is steady, but inside, I feel less certain. And for a second, a flash of insecurity hits me and doubt creeps in.
Maybe she doesn’t want to go out with you. Maybe you’re better off being her dirty little secret. Maybe she doesn’t want to be seen with you in public.
But when she speaks again, I can tell she’s smiling. “I’m free tomorrow.”
I smile too. “Perfect. It’s a date. Would six work?”
Eden chuckles. “Yes. What did you have in mind?”
I run a hand through my hair, still grinning. God, this is fun. “It’s a surprise, but I promise it won’t involve hockey or shellfish.”
