Dear Roomie (Rookie Rebels #5) - Kate Meader Page 0,48
those lines, even though he’d never gone anywhere or done much of anything. He finished the verse in his head. The long brown path before you, leading wherever you choose.
For a moment, he imagined she was doing the same before she shifted her gaze to take in Bast. “I’m guessing you guys travel a lot, too. In the off-season.”
“Saint Reid here heads back to Canada to coach a youth group in the summers,” his brother said. “I take some time for myself at a place I have on Vancouver Island. But we’re going to be taking a big trip soon. Heading to Beijing in February for Team Canada.”
“The Olympics? Both of you? Wow!” She shot a look a chiding look at Reid. Back to their dynamic of him, the closed-off curmudgeon and her, the free-spirited wanderer. He was actually an alternate for Team Canada, so it wasn’t as big a deal as she thought.
“Giving back to the kids. Skating for your country. Well, I hope you get a chance to let off some steam, see the sights. Makes me wonder …”
“Wonder what?” Reid asked.
“After the season is over and you’re a free agent, so to speak …”
His heart thundered in his chest. Was she suggesting they might take a trip together after the season? This talk of travel and favorite places had him yearning for something … more. It would be amazing to see new lands with Kennedy.
She studied him through the veil of her lashes. “So how many people do you bang?”
He almost spit out his coffee. After he’d swallowed, he was still speechless.
She patted his arm. “If you’re not partaking during the season, I’d imagine that’s the first thing you’d do. I’m just curious if it’s a one-week fling with one person or do you spread the Reid around.”
Reid could feel his brother’s hot stare as he put two and two together and came up with bang-a-thon.
“Not partaking. What the fuck am I hearing?”
“Oh, dear,” Kennedy covered her mouth. “Was that a secret?”
Bast was shaking his head, his dumb mouth agape. “Are you kidding? You don’t fuck anyone … all season?”
“It helps me focus.”
Except since Kennedy had come to stay, focus was a thing of the past.
Kennedy squeezed his bicep. “I’m sorry. I thought it was common knowledge, like your diet or your exercise regimen. Reid Durand, Hockey Monk!”
Bast looked shocked. It was nice that Reid still had the capacity to surprise him.
“So bro, answer the question.”
“What question?”
Bast exchanged a look with Kennedy. “How many people do you bang in the post-season?”
“A couple. I don’t want anyone to think it’s …”
“Special,” Kennedy finished.
He nodded. “It’s biological. A release. But sometimes the first time is over quickly …”
“How disappointing …” Kennedy pointed at him. “For the first person who encounters a post-season Reid Durand on the prowl!”
“Oh, shut up,” he said, unable to stop the laugh building in his throat. This woman was trouble. “No one is shortchanged. It’s just not always as satisfying as I hope. After a few months without sex, you tend to build things up and then that first time might be a letdown. So I usually try again.”
“And again?” Bast said, then added a bow-chicka-chick-bow.
Reid shook his head, trying to hide his smile. Sex, or discussions of it, didn’t make him uncomfortable. He was just surprised that Kennedy was so forward about it. Admirably so.
Reid had grown up with a father who insisted that nothing should get in the way of his ambition to be the best, including women. For Henri, sex was a biological function rather than an opportunity for intimacy. Until you proved yourself, connection wasn’t an option. It only led to weakness. Work first, play later.
Henri had married Reid’s mom on the downside of his career when he realized he needed to do more to extend his legacy. Creating a family was one way to do that. Reid had often wondered why he’d chosen a woman who already had a toddler, the result of a one-night stand. Perhaps he wanted to be sure she could produce a child. Not a charitable viewpoint, but Reid understood his stepfather’s psyche better than most. The man wouldn’t want to risk an infertile wife.
His parents had divorced when Bast went to college, which meant his mother had held on through years of Henri being gruff, brusque, and emotionally constipated. She was happily remarried to a chef who adored her while his father was on his third wife. Conclusion: men like Henri didn’t make women happy.