Juicy Rebound (IceCats 1)

“We have a few away games here and there, but I think our next long one isn’t until the third week of November.”

“Will you miss Thanksgiving with your parents?”

“No, my parents are coming to Florida, and we’ll eat at the house that day. I think a bunch of the guys will be joining us, except for the few who go home for the day. Mom didn’t want me to fly in and out, so they are planning to come.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“What are you doing?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’m ready to go home yet. It’s one thing dealing with my family in spurts, but all of them at once, I don’t think I can do it.”

“You should come to Florida. We have a jet. We can fly you in.”

I narrow my eyes. “You have a jet?”

“Yeah. Well, my parents do.”

“Oh. I didn’t know y’all had it like that.”

He chuckles. “We do. So, you should come.”

“I don’t know,” I say softly. “Let’s see what happens.”

“Sounds good to me.” When he shoots me a grin, my heart starts aching in my chest. He isn’t pressuring me or telling me I need to go. He’s asking, which is something I haven’t experienced much lately.

Soon our food comes, and we dig in. We chat about how great the food is, and then he offers his shake to me and I do the same for him. I’m usually not a peanut butter lover, but I love his shake.

“There is more to life than strawberry.”

I give him a disbelieving look. “Um, thank you, but strawberry is the best flavor ever.”

“No way.”

“Yes, I love anything strawberry. Starburst, Airhead, oh! The little strawberries in the Runts candies. Those are my favorite.”

“You’re insane.”

“They’re good!”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he laughs as he throws a fry in his mouth.

I didn’t order fries because I wanted to be more health-conscious, but man, his fries look so good. Or maybe it’s the way he’s eating them. Mmm. When he laughs, I look up at his eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I say quickly, reaching for my milk shake. “Do you have a favorite candy?”

“Chocolate. Anything chocolate and peanut butter.”

“Figures,” I tease, and he grins.

“Do you want some of my fries?”

“What?” He holds out a fry, trying to feed it to me, but I laugh. “No, it’s fine.”

“You’re eyeing my food. Take it.” I go to tell him no, but he pushes it into my mouth, his eyes so bright and beautiful. As I chew, though, I feel dumb. Why was I staring at his food like that? “What? What’s wrong?”

I look over to him. “Hmm?”

“You changed completely. Gone was the happy Amelia, replaced by the self-conscious one. What’s wrong? I’m okay sharing my fries. Really.”

“Are you sure? I’m sorry, I usually don’t ask—”

“Ask. Please. I don’t mind.” He grabs the rest of his hamburger and then passes the plate toward me. “You can’t have my burger, though.”

My face breaks into a grin as I reach for a fry. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

My heart flip-flops in my chest. Man, he gets me with that word.

“So, did Drew not let you have any of his food?”

I stop mid-chew, but I don’t dare meet his gaze. “Why would you ask that?”

“It seems that way.”

I run my tongue along my lips, savoring the bits of salt that fell off my fry. “He didn’t like to share.”

Actually, he’d lose his shit on me if I even asked for a fry. I did it twice before I learned never to ask again.

“You don’t like talking about him, do you?”

I meet his gaze and slowly shake my head. “I don’t.”

His eyes are soft, caring. He slides his hand across the table, taking mine with his. “I understand. But know this… You don’t have to walk on eggshells with me. You can be you, and I’ll still think you’re amazing.”

My heart…well, I’m pretty sure it’s stopped in my chest. I blink back the tears that are threatening to fall. Drew never told me to just be myself. He always wanted me to be skinnier, prettier, quieter.

Chandler’s hand comes up, grabbing my chin and tipping it up. His gaze is so compassionate. Kind and gentle. “Okay?”

“I’m not—”

“You are.” His words are like a promise—a promise no one has ever made to me before. “Okay?”

I don’t know what to say or even do. He runs his thumb along my bottom lip, and I find myself in a trance, trapped in his gaze.

“Okay.”

Chapter Thirteen

Chandler

It’s been a couple years since I’ve wanted to physically fight someone, but if I were to be put in a room with this Drew motherfucker, I’d probably rip his head off.

With one hand.

And then kick his skull into the ocean like a soccer ball.

That’s a very vivid thought. I may need to see someone about that. But then, no, this dude has done one hell of a number on Amelia, and that pisses me off. She’s wonderful. Amazing. Beautiful. Funny, when she lets herself be. I feel like she’s holding back, and I don’t want that. She doesn’t have to hold back for me. She can be whoever she wants to be, and I’ll still think she’s spectacular. Why anyone would want to dim her light is beyond me and makes me irate. I’m just hoping I can make her see that she can be all of herself and I’ll still dig her.