The Rebound

by Noelle Adams

  He looked away with a brief, tight expression that was almost a wince.

  “I’m so sorry. I think I might be ready for... more. But I’m trying to be honest here, and I don’t know if I’m ready for... all that. So are you saying you don’t want to be with me the way we were? You don’t want to do this anymore?” She had to force the words out through the pain in her throat.

  His face twisted again. He was clearly just as upset as she was, and it was making everything worse. “I don’t want to do it, if rebound sex is all it is. I’m sorry, Madeline, but I’m trying to be honest too, and I want you to be my girlfriend.”

  The final words were like a death knell. Something beautiful had died. She stared at him for a long time. She could hear him breathing heavily. She was too.

  Marlowe whimpered in confusion, clearly picking up signs that things weren’t right.

  Nothing was right.

  Everything was terrible.

  Madeline had been thinking she was ready to move on to the next step with him, but now it had taken on the weight of being a girlfriend.

  And she couldn’t commit to that. Not after Josh. Not after she’d spent so long trying and failing to make a relationship work.

  She couldn’t stand to live through that with Ken.

  He was waiting for her answer. He was uptight. Upset. One of his hands was clenched on the couch beside him.

  She needed to give him an answer. The only answer she had in her to give right now.

  “I’m... I’m not ready. For all that.” Her eyes started to burn. “I’m sorry.”

  He gave a jerky nod. “Okay. I understand. I knew you weren’t in the same place. But I hoped...” He brushed the words off with a shake of his head. “I just wanted to be honest.”

  “I’m glad you were.” She was about to cry and didn’t want to do it in front of him. She leaned over and kissed the side of his mouth. “I’m sorry we’re in different places. I had such a good time with you.”

  “Me too.” His voice was rough, but he seemed to mean it.

  “I’ll see you around.”

  “See you.”

  She couldn’t even see his face through the tears that hadn’t yet fallen. She stood up on shaky knees. Leaned down to kiss Marlowe’s head.

  Then she got out of there before she burst into tears.

  Eight

  MADELINE HAD WALKED over to Ken’s house so no one would see her car parked in his driveway, which meant she had no other way to get home right now other than walking.

  She was crying so much she could barely see in front of her, but she had sense enough to pull out the pepper spray she always carried in her purse. It wasn’t even eleven o’clock in the evening, and Azalea was as safe as a town could be—with most of the crime being minor or drug-related—but nowhere was perfectly safe, and even what felt like a broken heart wasn’t going to make her stupid.

  She walked and cried and kept wiping her eyes with a balled-up tissue so she could see where she was going, and she veered back in surprise when a pair of headlights slowed down on the road beside her, pulling to a stop at exactly her location.

  Too distracted to process the vehicle, she aimed her pepper spray when the window rolled down.

  “Madeline.”

  She lowered the canister when she recognized who it was. It was Ken’s voice. Ken’s truck. Ken’s face leaning over toward the open passenger-side window. Sniffing, she stepped over toward the curb.

  “You shouldn’t walk home alone in the dark, baby,” he said, his voice hoarse and his expression visibly pained. He’d always been such a laid-back man. She’d never seen him so emotional before. “Let me take you.”

  She hesitated, not because she didn’t appreciate the gesture but because she wasn’t sure it was a good idea for her to share even a few more minutes with him right now. Who knew what she would say? Or do.

  “I can walk with you if you’d rather. Or trail behind you if you don’t want me around. But I don’t want you to walk alone in the dark. I’ll inch along in this truck as you walk if you won’t let me do anything else.”

  His voice cracked on the last words, and that was the thing that finally decided her. She pulled open the door to the truck and climbed in, mopping off some more tears before she buckled the seat belt.

  Ken watched her until she was settled, his blue eyes very dark in the dim light from the dashboard. When she shivered briefly from the cool night air, he turned up the heat. Then he started to drive without saying a word.

  He’d gone two blocks before he burst out, “I’m so sorry, baby.”

  She blinked and jerked her head to the side, surprised into looking at him directly, which she’d been avoiding until now. “What?”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “For what?”

  His forehead wrinkled. He’d braked for a stop sign, and he hadn’t started up again even though there were no other drivers in sight. “For what? What do you think? I just sat in there in my house, in front of God and Marlowe, and I gave you a selfish ultimatum. I can’t believe I did that to you.”

  “It wasn’t...” She trailed off. He had kind of given her an ultimatum, but it hadn’t felt like that. It had felt natural. Normal. And she was the one who hadn’t been able to do what she should have done. “It was more my fault than yours.”

  “Why was it your fault?” He still had his foot on the brake, but he turned slightly in his seat to face her. “You’ve told me what you wanted from the beginning. I was the one who suddenly demanded that you give me exactly what I want even though it wasn’t what we’d agreed to. I was trying...” He took a raspy inhale. “I was trying to do better about being honest. Not trying to control the relationship by hiding what I feel. But I did it all wrong. I was still trying to control it by acting like there were only two options. And I’m so sorry I made you cry, Madeline. It’s the last thing I wanted to do.”

  She was bawling again now. Couldn’t even begin to stop.

  “So listen to me. I want to say what I should have said from the beginning. I’m pretty much gone on you. I didn’t mean it to happen, but it did. And I think I need...” He finally put the truck into park, still stopped at a residential intersection. “I need more than sex, if we’re going to do this. But I don’t need everything. Not right now. Not until you’re ready.”

  She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It was like the doom she’d known was coming—the doom that she deserved for her irrational fears and hang-ups—had suddenly been revoked. “But I should be... if you’re ready, I should be ready too.”

  “Why? Is that some sort of rule? It doesn’t work that way. Maybe we’re both on the rebound, but I’m a lot further away from my relationship than you are. And mine never hurt me the way yours did. I can wait for you, Madeline. I’m happy to wait for you. As long as you think... as long as it’s more than sex for you too, then I can wait for anything else. I promise I can. You’re not taking advantage of me. You’re not using me. This is exactly what I want. Being with you, in any way you’re able to give me. Unless you know... unless you know for sure that you can never care for me like that.”

  She had to stop crying enough for her to answer his earnest declaration. She’d never seen eyes as nakedly tender as his. It took a minute to control her emotion enough to speak. “I... I do. Care for you like that.”

  With a ragged sound, he reached over to grab one of her hands. “You do?”

  “Yes. I do. It’s more than sex for me too. I want more. I do. I’m just so scared...” Her tissue was sopping wet now and couldn’t absorb any more tears, so she had to make do with her sleeve. “I was a girlfriend for so many years, and it was... it was so hard. So soul-sucking. I never felt like myself. It never made me happy.”

  Ken reached into the side pocket on his door and pulled out a stack of fast-food paper napkins, which she accepted gratefully. “I know that. I know you’re scared. I get it. I understand. You don’t have to be my girlfriend. We don’t have to ca
ll it that. Not right now and not ever if that’s not what you want. I just want to be with you, and I want it to mean something.”

  “It does,” she whispered from behind one of the napkins.

  “It does?”

  She nodded, almost smiling now as a swell of deep joy started to rise inside her. “It does. You do. You mean so much to me.”

  He made a sound that was a half-relieved laugh and a half sob. He raised her free hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against the knuckles. “That’s all I need.”

  “Are you sure? Because the last thing I want to do is make you unhappy.”

  “Seriously? Do I look unhappy to you?”

  One look at his face proved that unhappiness was the last thing in the world he was feeling. She’d never seen Ken—or any man—look the way he did right now. Like something huge was bursting out of him, threatening to tear apart his characteristic relaxed manner. Like he was too full of joy to contain it. “So we can stay together?”

  He kissed the palm of her hand and then leaned over to claim her lips. It wasn’t deep. Just sweet and a little clumsy. She loved it. “I’m not about to let you go,” he murmured against her mouth.

  They were both smiling rather dopily as they pulled apart. “So do you still want to go home?” he asked, putting his truck back into drive at last. Fortunately, no one was on the road, and so they hadn’t gotten honked at.

  “Maybe we should just go back to your place. We still have that wine to drink. And I left those beautiful flowers. And poor Marlowe is probably crushed that you just ran out on him.”

  “He is. He was crying like a baby at the door when I came after you. He knew we were both upset, and there was nothing he could do about it.” Ken made a U-turn in the intersection and headed back toward his house.

  “Poor little thing.” Madeline felt like giggling with an overflow of feeling, but she figured that was better than crying any more, which was the other thing she felt like doing. “He’ll be happy to see us come home.”

  MARLOWE WAS HAPPY. In fact, he was so ecstatic at their return that he ran gleeful laps around the kitchen, dining, and living rooms.

  They pet the dog and drank the rest of their wine and cuddled on the couch for a long time, both of them too emotionally exhausted to do much talking.

  But Madeline could feel Ken’s affection. His understanding. His devotion. And it was everything she felt for him too. And she was starting to see how bringing it out into the open—changing their relationship—wasn’t going to transform the way they were together.

  Ken wasn’t going to become Josh, just because they were no longer no strings attached. Of course they wouldn’t always be this blissfully happy, but Ken would always be who he was.

  And he was one of the best men she’d ever known. The kindest. Most generous. That wasn’t going to change just because they now had ties between them.

  Since she’d been so messily emotional, she took a shower before bed. Ken got in with her, and he held her under the hot spray. Not kissing. Not caressing. Just holding her tightly for a long time.

  She felt safe. Warm. Loved.

  When they got into bed, he held her some more, but eventually the hug deepened into more. He kissed her for a long time. Stroked her body until she was hot and wet and deeply aroused. Then he sank inside her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him. They rocked together, sometimes kissing and sometimes gazing at each other in the dark. Eventually the delicious friction tightened into a climax, and she came with a broken sob. He came after her, jerking and rasping words that sounded like “baby” and “always” and “love.”

  They lay tangled up together, naked and replete, for a long time. Until finally the sticky discomfort urged Madeline to her feet so she could go to the bathroom and clean up.

  She put on one of Ken’s shirts before she came back to bed. He was sprawled out naked with his head on the pillow, grinning at her endearingly.

  She laughed and climbed under the covers beside him. “Why are you smiling like that?”

  He nuzzled her hair and wrapped an arm around her. “Why do you think?”

  “I think maybe you’re happy.”

  “I am. That’s exactly what I am.”

  She shifted so she could peer up at his face. “And you’re sure it’s okay if we don’t—”

  “Stop it, Madeline.” His smile turned into a frown. “Stop worrying about me. I’m happier than I ever thought I would be again. I’ll tell you if that changes or if I need more from you. For now, this is more than enough.”

  She sighed, believing him. Adoring him. “Okay. In that case, I’m happy too.”

  THREE WEEKENDS LATER was Ken’s weekend with his daughters, so Madeline had resigned herself to not seeing him much for a couple of days. She’d spent every night with him since they’d gotten together for real, except the first weekend he spent with his daughters. That weekend had felt empty. Going without him for those two days felt like a hole in her life. So she wasn’t looking forward to the next one.

  They hadn’t made any public announcements about their being together. In fact, they hadn’t made any announcements at all. Madeline’s friends knew. Ken’s ex-wife knew. And she was pretty sure whispers were going around town about what might be going on between them. But Ken had been as good as his word. He wasn’t trying to make her his girlfriend. They were together the way they’d been before.

  Only more.

  It was good. She’d been incredibly happy. But the idea of spending another weekend without him grated on her as the days approached.

  Finally, on Friday around lunchtime, the idea was bothering her so much that she knew she had to do something about it. So she called Ken.

  “Hey,” he said, a smile in his voice as he picked up the other end of the call. “I didn’t expect you to call. Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah. It’s fine.” She was smiling now because she could hear that he was.

  “Did you just want to say hi to me?”

  “Maybe. Are you busy?”

  “No. Just doing a lot of annoying paperwork for the end of the month. What’s up?”

  Despite her attempt at casualness, he must have realized she had a purpose to her call. “Nothing really. Just...”

  “What’s the matter?” His tone had changed now. He sounded worried. He thought she was going to say something bad.

  His concern pushed her into an immediate admission. “It’s... nothing. It’s silly. I just don’t want to go all weekend without seeing you.”

  He hesitated for a few seconds before he replied, “That’s always nice to hear, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get away—”

  “I know. I know. I’d never ask you to give up any time with your daughters for me. I just wondered...” She cleared her throat, wishing she’d taken the time to think through exactly what she was going to say before she’d called him. “Do you think... I mean, how would you feel about me coming over for a little while this weekend? While they’re there. Would that be weird? Would you be uncomfortable about me—”

  “Oh my God, baby, come! Please come!”

  He sounded so awed and overwhelmed that she giggled stupidly.

  It was his turn to clear his throat. “I mean, of course you can come over. If you want. I’d have invited you, but I didn’t want to put any pressure on you.”

  “I know you didn’t. And I appreciate it. But I think it would be all right.”

  “Just know that if you come, then I can’t promise the girls won’t talk. About you being there. I guess I could ask them to keep it quiet, but I’d rather not put the pressure of a secret on them.”

  “Oh no, Ken! I’d never expect them to keep it a secret. I think people are starting to talk anyway. It’s okay. It really is.” The thought should have terrified her, but it didn’t. She felt okay about it. Having a few people know that they were together hadn’t changed anything about the way they were together, so there was no reason to assume that having more people know wo
uld turn their relationship into something different. Something less good.

  She wanted to share her life with Ken, and that meant sharing everything.

  He let out a breath so deep she could hear it through the phone. “Okay then. You want to come over for dinner tonight? They’ve got dance class today, so we’ll be getting home around six thirty.”

  “That would be perfect. I can go over a little early and start working on dinner. What are their favorite foods?”

  THAT EVENING, MADELINE was just putting dried spaghetti into a pot of bowling water in Ken’s kitchen when he arrived home with Heather and Jessie. She could hear their voices in the entryway. Jessie was complaining that she could take off her own shoes, and Heather was asking where her dad’s friend was. Marlowe was whimpering happily at the unexpected visitors.

  Madeline wiped her hands on her jeans and came out of the kitchen to say hello. She was ridiculously nervous.

  Jessie was sitting on the floor, tugging off one of her boots and pushing away Marlowe’s attempts to greet her with endless kisses, but her little face lit up when she saw Madeline. “It’s you!” she burst out. “I didn’t know it was you!”

  Ken chuckled and leaned down to rub his daughter’s head. “I told you that you’d like her. You want me to grab that boot now?”

  “I guess so.” Jessie made a face at her dad but then turned to beam at Madeline. “Daddy said you’re making spaghetti for us.”

  “I am. It should be ready in about ten minutes.” Pleased and relieved by the younger girl’s reaction, Madeline turned to the older one. “Hi, Heather.”

  “Hi.” Heather scanned her face soberly. “So you’re friends with Daddy?”

  “I am. I’d like to be your friend too, but only when you’re ready.”

  Heather appeared to appreciate this direct honesty. She nodded, her face softening. “We can talk about books.”

  “I would love that.” Madeline smiled at the girl and then turned the smile at Ken. She caught him gazing at her and his daughters with a decidedly sappy look.