Her Rebound Guy. Jennifer Lohmann

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       CHAPTER SIX

      CALEB TOOK THE plates to the dining room while Beck grabbed flatware and wineglasses. They both came back for the pizza box and wine bottle. Which had come first, she wondered, his ability to move through another person’s space with no self-consciousness or his reporting? He’d said he started reporting with his college paper, and it was fun to imagine him busting into the dean’s office, some hot question on his mind and his reporter’s notebook in hand.

      For some reason, she didn’t picture him as a hot college student with his romantic hair and intense green eyes. He’d probably had the eyes, but she imagined him more awkward, with a buzz cut, maybe, and needing time to grow into his limbs. It fit better with how at ease he could make her feel—like he knew what it was to be out of place and ensured those he cared about didn’t feel that way.

      Cared about. Silly turn of phrase after one date. If she wasn’t careful, she’d get ahead of herself.

      “The pizza’s gotten cold,” he said, pulling her out of her imaginings as the box slid out of his hands to the table.

      “It’ll be good anyway. And it was a good trade-off,” she said, with a shy smile, the idea of caring about someone after one date lingering in the back of her head. What did it even mean to care about someone? And how much did letting a man inside you change that? How much did being inside a woman change that?

      Did sex have to change it at all?

      “Absolutely,” he agreed. “This is a nice room, by the way.”

      “Thanks.” She hesitated, with more she wanted to say on her tongue and too much on her mind to remain light and funny. Of course, he’d not remained light and funny with her—not with that story over drinks. If he could share something so personal, so could she.

      She was at least that brave. And he was at least that safe. “One night, not long after Neil moved out, I was sitting on one of the barstools, eating a frozen dinner, when I realized that I had this huge house and was only using one bathroom, one bedroom and the kitchen. So I’ve been eating in the dining room ever since.”

      “Making the space your own. I remember that feeling,” he said with a nod, and she knew she’d made the right choice—the right choice about everything tonight.

      Caleb reached out and opened the pizza box. To Beck’s surprise, he first grabbed her plate. “How many pieces do you want?”

      The pizza smelled amazing. It had lamb meatballs and kale, and she could eat every slice, if she put her mind to it. Back when Neil had first moved out, she’d been afraid to allow herself any indulgence, for fear that she wouldn’t be able to stop. Like with the dining room, she’d been letting her fear ruin her enjoyment of her house, of food and of her life.

      “Two, please.” They were small pieces, and she had come a long way since Neil had moved out.

      He placed two pieces on her plate and then set it in front of her and filled up her wineglass. “Mind if I take the rest?”

      “No. Help yourself.”

      “Thanks.” He took the other two pieces and then sat back in his chair.

      They each ate a couple bites in silence until Caleb took a sip of wine and cleared his throat. Beck looked up from her own food. “I was the one who moved out. I moved into this random town house. It was the first thing I could find after we decided to separate. I still live in it, actually.”

      He took another drink of wine and she realized that, for the first time tonight, he was nervous—though he probably didn’t realize it. “I spent the first three months thinking, ‘this is where Leah would put...’ whatever it was I was holding in my hand. She was particular about where she put stuff, more so than I am. I think it took longer for me to get used to putting pictures up where I wanted them to go than it took me to get used СКАЧАТЬ