Page 57 of The Rival (Looking to Score 2)
By the second landing, we’re laughing breathlessly at ourselves for attempting this feat.
“Can I help you with that?” Holt hefts the box into his capable arms before either of us can catch our breath long enough to answer.
Eden rolls her eyes, but the smile on her lips reminds me of what a good match the two of them are. Not only are they both drop-dead gorgeous, but they’re also a highly intelligent pair, complementing each other in wit and work ethic. Basically, they’re perfect together.
My chest tightens painfully behind my oversize T-shirt. I miss Alex. A lot. Even more than I thought I would.
It began on the car ride back to Boston, while listening to the radio. An old country love song came on, reminding me of him and his ridiculous singing on the way back from town that one day. Then that memory brought along even more memories of my birthday, of the lake, all our shared meals—not to mention the countless physical moments, from innocent cuddles to . . . well, all the rest of it.
The truth is, in the weeks since I left the cabin, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him and our summer of bliss, try as I may to distract myself with work and the move. I’ve even begun to question leaving the cabin while he was out on an errand, days before we were both due to leave. It was impulsive. And thinking back, maybe I should have just talked to him. Opened up and admitted everything.
When everything is upstairs, I spend a few minutes shuffling some new furniture around the apartment. Once I’ve moved a couple of end tables in the living room and shifted a small bookshelf to the bedroom, my place starts to look a lot classier. When I rejoin them, Holt and Eden are sharing a water bottle in the kitchen. My ears perk up when I realize they’re talking about the team.
“They’ve all been checking in, one by one. Everyone’s on their way back from wherever the hell they went this summer,” Eden says with a wry smile. “You wouldn’t believe where Saint went.”
“The Cayman Islands?” Holt says, and we all laugh, knowing that could very well be true.
“The Vatican.” Eden emphasizes every syllable, and my eyes go wide with disbelief.
Holt chuckles, incredulous. “Yeah, I wouldn’t have guessed that.”
“I’m shocked he didn’t burst into flames as soon as he set foot anywhere near a church,” I say, earning a generous laugh from the couple.
I’m cracking open a water bottle for myself when Eden says, “Even Alex checked in.”
My hands freeze on the plastic, all the blood in my body rushing into my reddening cheeks. I guzzle down the water until the bottle is totally empty, feeling a little light-headed. When I look back at Eden and Holt, they’re both staring at me.
“Oh yeah?” I say, my voice cracking. I wipe some stray drops of water from my lips with the back of my hand.
A totally insane thought occurs to me. Did Alex tell Eden about our summer fling? He wouldn’t, would he?
Eden nods. “Yeah, he texted me yesterday.”
Do I jump through the window now, or what?
“What did he say?” I ask, trying my best at nonchalance.
She shrugs, using air quotes. “‘Back in town.’ I don’t even get a full sentence from the man these days. Friggin’ typical.”
Relief trickles down my spine as excitement curls in my belly.
Back in town. Those three words thrum through my veins. Odd to hear the news from Eden and not from the man himself, but it makes sense. I didn’t exactly leave things on the best of terms, so it’s not like he’d text me about his whereabouts.
Even if we’re back to being strangers, I knew deep down that Alex wouldn’t break my trust and tell Eden about our summer. Discretion was a major component of our arrangement. Alex is a good guy, despite Eden’s grumblings. He wouldn’t sabotage either of us like that.
“Anyway,” Eden says, “can we help you unload some of . . .” She gestures vaguely around the apartment. “This?”
I don’t have a lot of stuff, but unpacking will take an embarrassing amount of time. I’m kind of a perfectionist when it comes to my stuff, as little as there is, and everything has to have its proper place. I wouldn’t subject my worst enemies, let alone my friends, to that level of micromanaging.
“No, you’ve helped me enough already. I don’t think I have the energy to dive back into it right now, anyway. Can I order us a pizza or something?”
Holt and Eden exchange one of those we’re a couple so we can communicate with our eyes looks before Holt says, “That won’t be necessary. We have dinner reservations later. Thanks for the offer, though.”
“And this is for you.” Eden holds out a gift bag that clearly contains a bottle of wine. Knowing her, it’s an expensive one. “Consider it a housewarming gift.”
