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by Sierra Hill


  “Great. I could use the company.”

  He reaches inside his pocket and pulls out a pair of keys as we walk out of the apartment together. As we near his beat-up late model Nissan, I’m aware of his close proximity right behind me. He reaches down to the door handle, sidling up beside me, which startles me so that my head turns and my nose smooshes up directly into his chest.

  Oh my God. The very first thing I notice is his scent. It’s the best thing I’ve ever smelled. It’s a combination of fabric softener, a crisp, clean deodorant and something else altogether very masculine. Maybe it’s a cologne, but if I’d have to guess, it’s just Van. Eau de Van. I sniff and then inhale a deep breath, taking him all in as he hovers over me. Realizing too late that he’s staring at me, I jerk back against the car door and close my eyes in utter embarrassment.

  When I gather enough courage to open them up again and dare a look, Van is smiling. At me. Not in an arrogant smirk, nor with mocking disdain. But with amusement. His dark eyes gleam with a sweet reverence and it has me tingling in awe over this giant of a man.

  I quickly pull myself together, shoving myself into the passenger seat, immediately taking notice of the state of disarray that is his car. It’s filthy! Littered with empty sports drink bottles, soda cans, chip bags, fast food containers, gum wrappers. You name it, it’s on the floor, the dash, the middle console. I just pray I don’t see an opened and used condom wrapper.

  My body is contorted as I’m perusing the backseat when Van slides into his spot, his eyes flashing to mine and he shrugs apologetically, his neck and cheeks blooming in red.

  “Sorry about the mess. I would’ve cleaned it up had I known I’d have company. It’s not generally this bad.”

  “Psssh,” I wave him off. “It’s all good.”

  Van continues. “I just haven’t had time to clean it out since I returned from Albuquerque. I returned late Sunday night and haven’t had time yet.”

  My curiosity takes over. “What were you doing in New Mexico?”

  Van is looking over his left shoulder out his car window as we merge onto the main road heading toward the grocery store.

  “Um, my girlfriend Lyndsay goes to school there.” His voice is barely a whisper. Like he’s reluctant to say it.

  I think my heart stops beating. Of course I know he has a girlfriend, but this is the first time he’s brought her up, or mentioned her name. It just puts my crush into perspective. The reality is, I’ll never have a chance with him. My heart wilts.

  I try to school my facial expression, which I’m sure reads heartbreak, and place a mechanical smile on my face. I’m sure my voice sounds as fake as it feels to say this out loud, the tone overly cheerful.

  “Oh, that’s great! So do you see her…I mean, Lyndsay often?”

  There’s a pause and his eyes remain on the road – either for safety reasons or he wants to avoid the topic. As if he’s uncertain what to divulge to me.

  Van shifts his gaze over to me for a brief second, and unless it’s my imagination, I see a flash of sadness.

  “We try. Lynds doesn’t have a car, so she can’t come visit me often, unless she can find a ride. Our schedules don’t always mesh too well.”

  He turns his face back to the road, his jaw flexing. He has a really angular jawline, that squares off at his chin, that is covered with a thin, dark stubble. My first instinct is to reach out and pat his arm – a gesture of empathy. I know that feeling of homesickness and loneliness all too well. And if I’m reading things right, he’s got it bad, making me wish I could do something for him. But I can’t, because he’s not mine.

  Instead, I grip my two hands tightly in a ball on my lap, fighting the urge to reach out and provide a consoling touch.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. How long have you two been together?”

  He heaves a heavy sigh. Almost in resignation.

  “Since I was a senior in high school and she was a junior. We grew up together in Tucson. She got a scholarship for UNW and I came to ASU.”

  “Wow,” I flatly acknowledge. “Four years of long-distance is a really long time. I’m impressed. How do you guys manage it?”

  What I really want to ask is “how have you remained faithful?” Because, come on…he’s a college basketball player, for heaven’s sake. He’s absolutely gorgeous. He must have girls tripping over themselves to get a piece of him. There’s bound to have been some serious temptations over the years, that even the most steadfast and loyal of guys would fall victim to.

  Case in point, the Midnight Madness after-party last Friday night. It was the team’s first official practice of the season, and it was glaringly obvious that Van garnered the attention of more than one girl. Myself included. I, however, was more or less the self-appointed hostess of the evening, since the party took place at Cade’s apartment and I knew his roommates, Carver and Lance, weren’t going to be responsible for keeping things in check. As usual, Lance got so trashed he passed out around two-thirty a.m. As for Carver, I noticed him going into his bedroom with one girl, and then coming out later with another. Holy cow, two girls in one night. I’ve never…I mean, wow.

  Yet I didn’t notice any untoward behavior from Van that would make a long-distance girlfriend question his fidelity. He drank, he joked, he laughed, he casually chatted with girls – and guys - but there was no obvious flirting, and definitely not any hooking up.

  Van is definitely a good guy.

  “I honestly don’t know,” he says in response to my question. I watch his lips form a tight grimace, his side profile a view that could be a chiseled work of art. “I guess when you love someone enough, you have to believe that neither party will do anything to sabotage that trust.”

  He shrugs as he pulls into the parking lot and turns off the engine.

  Turning toward me, he smiles brightly, all the tension vanishing with the light of his perfect white teeth.

  “So, what’ll it be? Beer or tequila tonight?”

  Hmm. I’d opt for something else. Something tall, dark and handsome. Because Van gets me tipsy just by his presence alone.

  Dammit. Why does he have to be taken?

  Buy The Rebound NOW: http://books2read.com/u/m0MKnJ

  Acknowledgments

  Although completely fictional, the premise of this book came to me while I was visiting my late uncle before he passed away. He was well into his nineties, but due to the limitations my aunt had to arrange for his round-the-clock care. I’m so thankful that I could visit him several times in the adult-family care facility prior to his passing. It was during those visits that I witnessed firsthand the tremendous amount of effort the nursing home staff gives their residents on a daily basis. I thank all those working in this very under-appreciated field.

  This book is dedicated to my Uncle Burt. I miss him every day and cherish the time I had with him.

  Simon Forsberg (Cade’s fictional grandpa) is named after my late father-in-law, Sam. Sam did such a wonderful job raising his youngest son - my husband – to be a kind, generous and thoughtful man. RIPSimonH.

  To the WOTR crew, Jillian Jacobs, Angie and Melinda from Twinsie Talk Book Reviews – I’m so blessed to have found you all and been invited to attend the inaugural author con in Illinois.

  To my girlies, Stephanie Elliot and J. Nathan – two of my author friends. Thank you for your wisdom, encouragement and support. Love you both.

  Thanks to Jeff and AnnMarie for allowing me to give a shout-out to their Tempe pizza shop, Hungry Howies. Next time I’m in town, I’ll stop by and have a slice!

  And to all the readers who have read my books, either on purpose or by accident, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you. If you liked this book, I’d be forever grateful if you’d place a review on the site that you bought it, or Goodreads.

  Xoxo – Sierra

  Stay tuned in and sign up for my newsletter by going to my website: https://www.sierrahillbooks.com

  About the Author

  Sierra writes n
ew adult and sizzling hot contemporary romance. She’s written and published 20 novels, including the award-winning series, Courting Love (college sports) and the erotic ménage serial, Reckless – The Smoky Mountain Trio.

  Her favorite authors are Sawyer Bennett, Sarina Bowen, Elle Kennedy, Lexi Ryan and Tessa Bailey.

  Sierra lives with her husband and dog in the Seattle area. She is a sucker for cheap accessories, loves anything dark chocolate, and enjoys attending live concerts.

  Subscribe to her email list here: www.sierrahillbooks.com or find her here:

 

 

 


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