Dear Roomie (Rookie Rebels #5) - Kate Meader Page 0,81

her dog so much that her father had tried to soothe his daughter by playing the hero.

She looked down at Bucky with his missing eye and his multiple scars and cursed the person who had abandoned him, or worse, so that he ended up in the lake. Reid might have had it under control in those frigid waters, but the last time she let someone else do the saving, her world stopped spinning. Her father had died inside the house looking for Peanut under the sofa. Her mother, later at the hospital, from her injuries and smoke inhalation.

These days Kennedy did the rescuing—puppies, players, and herself.

“It seems like another part of my life, so long ago, yet sharp enough to still feel it deeply.”

Still stroking her hand, still holding her gaze. Just giving her the space to let it out.

She sniffed, wiped a stray tear. “Luckily I had Edie to help get me through. I was hell to live with those first few months. She was a real trouper.”

“She thinks that about you.”

“Yeah, we’re quite the mutual admiration society. I’ve really missed her. She doesn’t have anyone. Not really.” Neither did Kennedy, but that was largely her fault. Arm’s length was the safest distance. “Edie said I was always welcome. She loves me like I’m a blood relative, though I’m not.”

“She loves you because you’re Kennedy. It might have started out that way but you’re not defined by your relationship to her husband. Edie cares about you, not her husband’s granddaughter.”

“I love her, too.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Of course you do. I know you’re an open person about some things—your sexual demands, your James Garner obsession, your criticisms of me—but with other things, personal things, it doesn’t come so easy. I’m honored when you let me in a little.”

A little could so easily give way to a lot. To everything.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered, repeating the words she’d said earlier, only now they were imbued with a heartwarming magic.

“Me, too, though, I’m a little worried.”

“What about?”

He leaned in close and whispered, “I’ve never played bingo.”

She laughed, loving this playful side of Reid. “Oh, they’re going to eat you alive.”

28

Reid wasn’t big on relaxing. Long, restful baths were not his thing. A couple of guys swore by cold water immersion (Kaminski did it during the second intermission, which everyone thought was nuts). Reid was not about to jump on that train.

But no one had told him that a hot, sudsy, candlelit bath with a woman you were obsessed with might be almost as good as sliding into her tight, fuck-me body.

“This was a great idea,” Kennedy murmured, reading his mind. She covered his much bigger hand—currently cupping one gorgeous tit possessively—with her small one.

“Just what I was thinking.” His lips trailed along her temple over damp curls and soft skin. The last few days had been busy, but whenever he and Kennedy crossed paths it inevitably led to his bed, the shower, or here. (There had been one enterprising moment against the kitchen counter.) The cage door was open—off its hinges, in fact—and they couldn’t get enough of each other.

Talking about her parents had loosened Kennedy up. She might think Reid reserved but she was as tightly-wound as him when it came to sharing what was in her heart. Not that she was treating him like a therapist, but something had unlocked between them.

Unlocked his game, too. The Rebels were on a mini-streak of three straight wins and were third in the conference. Reid wanted to think his play was helping. Something was happening, that click-into-place that Coach has said needed to happen. Reid was becoming integral to the front line. It felt good to be needed.

“So, big game soon,” she said. “Bastian’s excited.”

The gruff sound in his throat let her know exactly how much he cared about Bast’s excitement. The two had become friendly with texting and sharing memes and all that nonsense.

“You know he’s trying to needle me through you.”

“Because I’m not worthy of being his friend independently of Reid Durand, Superstar?”

“That’s not what I meant. You two are pretty alike—cheerful little chipmunks with evil streaks. I can see exactly why you get along.”

“He actually wants you to be happy.”

Deep down, Reid knew that to be true. Bast was decent to the last drop, the kind of guy you would want in your corner or on your team. But the real issue wasn’t whether Bast wanted Reid to be happy—it was whether he should want