Dear Roomie (Rookie Rebels #5) - Kate Meader Page 0,107
damage to it. I don’t have a lot of friends, so I—I need him.”
Tears stung her eyes. “And he needs you. Also, you have more friends than you think, Reid.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. I have you, I hope. I think we’ve become friends, even if I ruined it by doing my grouchy, heart of darkness bit. Now here I am, your asshole friend, intruding on your moment.”
“No, not at all.” Reid was meant to be here, meeting her parents. “Can I introduce you?”
“Only if you’re sure.”
She was sure. Even if she and Reid could never be more, she wanted him in her life any way that could happen.
“Mom, Dad, this is Reid Durand, aka Hot Jerk, aka NHL’s most amazing center, aka a total cinnamon roll sweetheart.” She snuck a look at him to find his eyebrow in the Reid quirk of amused. “They’re detail-oriented people.”
“Figured as much.”
“And Reid, this is my mom and dad, aka Libby and Benjamin Clark, aka the best parents a girl could have.”
He nodded with his usual Reid gravity. “Good to meet you both. You did a great job with this girl. She’s kind and generous and doesn’t understand how special she is. Maybe that makes her humble, but I think it also makes her a little bit clueless.”
“Oh, Dad will like that. He always thought I wasn’t ambitious enough.” The enormity of the moment reared up and threatened to choke her. Reid must have sensed it because he turned her into his hard chest and let her weep softly.
No arms had ever felt stronger. No body had ever sheltered her so well. No heart had ever called to her so clearly.
A few minutes later, they walked hand-in-hand back to the cemetery entrance.
“Would you sit with me for a moment in my warm car with its heated seats?”
“I’d love that.”
He opened the passenger door for her and the back door for Bucky. When he got in on the driver’s side and closed the door, he pulled something from his pocket.
“As well as stopping by to see Bucky and get stuff for my trip, I also planned to leave a gift for you.” He placed a wrapped box on the dash.
“Reid, really?”
“Yes, Kennedy, really.”
With shaking hands, she took it and removed the wrapping. It looked like a jewelry box and she opened it with a held breath. It was a key. It also looked familiar.
“What’s this to?”
“The apartment. I know you have one already but this is a spare, one you can keep in a special place in case you lose the other one. I want you to have a key so you know you’ll always have a home to return to. With me and Bucky.”
He reached in back and petted his dog. “I can’t clip your wings, Kennedy, and I’d never expect you to stick around for me—”
She sniffed. “Why not?”
“Because I’m not the kind of guy who inspires devotion. I’m not a fan favorite or a flashy star. I’m a worker, a grinder, and when my career is over, I’ll be remembered as a journeyman who scrapped his way out of the AHL and cobbled a career together with spit and sneers and time in the gym and miles on his skates. People respect that guy but no one loves him.”
He was so, so wrong, and she hated Henri Durand for ever making him doubt his lovability.
“You listen to me, Reid Fucking Durand. That guy is the backbone of the team. The center who directs traffic and controls the ice and makes the game hum. That guy might be a grinder but that doesn’t mean he’s unpopular or unlovable. Bucky loves that guy and so do I.”
Reid’s swallow was audible in the close confines of the car. “You mean, like a friend or something?”
“Bucky, do you love Reid like a friend?”
Their good doggo—and he was as much hers as Reid’s—gave a quick bark and raised his head for a rub. Which he got, of course.
“Bucky adores you, no friend zone for him. These last few weeks, I’ve seen you change and open your heart to this little guy who needed you so badly. There is nothing but slavish devotion from that quarter.”
“I needed him, too.” He reached for her and cupped her cheek. “He wasn’t the only one I needed. The only one I need. Present tense, future, now and always. If we’re talking slavish devotion, I have a serious case of that for my roomie.”