Page 6 of Soft Rebound (Mad City Moments #2)

Joe gets off his end of the couch, sits next to me so he’s facing my side and one of his knees rests between us, and leans over to wrap his arms around me. “You looked like you needed a hug,” he says.

We stay like that for a while and he doesn’t move to do anything else. Then he unwraps me, slowly, carefully, but doesn’t move away.

I grab his hand. Not sure why, but the touch feels so necessary. “Here, with you, is the most like myself I’ve felt since I arrived in Madison. How is that possible? I’ve only just met you.”

He starts to play with my fingers. “I don’t know how, but I know what you mean. It feels like we’ve always known each other.”

He pulls that hand toward himself and kisses the middle of my palm, like he did back when we were outside the bar, only this time his lips move to the inside of my wrist, and slowly, very slowly, he pushes up the sleeve.

His beard tickles the sensitive skin inside my arm, and I feel those bristles as if they’re all over my body.

“Joe—”

“It’s okay. I don’t expect anything,” he says as he removes my arm from his lips and puts it back down between us. “I couldn’t help it. I love your skin.”

I swallow hard and try to control my breathing. “You know, me, being here with you after we’ve just met is completely out of character for me,” I say.

Joe shakes his head, grinning. “Believe me, I’m not judging you. I’m just happy you’re here. This evening has been the most fun I’ve had in literal years.”

“What, you don’t have a parade of women coming through your bachelor pad?”

He snorts. “That is so far from the truth it’s almost comical. Almost . Mostly it’s tragic.”

“Tragic?”

“I haven’t had a woman over since I moved out here, right when my ex-wife and I separated. Almost three years.”

I wince. “Jesus. That’s a long time. I would’ve thought you must’ve had something casual, surely.”

“Nope. You’re the first woman I’ve wanted to kiss since my wife.”

“That ... is an honor, I think,” I say, suddenly aware of my heart thrumming. I feel the beats in my chest, in my throat, in my head.

“It’s definitely an honor. A dubious one, probably.”

“So, why haven’t you wanted to kiss anyone?”

“I don’t know, I just didn’t. I went out a few times but couldn’t muster any interest. For a while, I was depressed. Not that I couldn’t function, but I just shut down that part of myself. I wasn’t even looking.”

He rubs his head again.

“Do you miss having hair?”

His hand freezes on his skull. “What do you mean?”

“It looks like you keep trying to run your hand through it.”

Joe laughs and gives the top a couple of extra playful rubs for effect. “I guess. I started losing hair in my 20s. I’m lucky that bald heads are in vogue.”

“I like your look.” I wave in his general direction. “The whole bald-head, bushy-beard, brawny-body vibe.”

“I seem to remember someone said I looked like a god.”

“That never happened.” I school my features in mock seriousness. “You’re making things up.”

He leans toward me and whispers, “Are you calling me a liar, Miss Melanie, oops, actually my name is Liz?”

I want to protest but his face is so, so close, his eyes roaming, and I’m starting to feel very, very hot in a way that I really, really like.

“Yeah...” My words come out as a whisper. “Sorry about that.”

“I’m not.” His breath sounds ragged. “I’ve loved every single moment of tonight.”

Fuck. I feel the same. “I should really feel worse about being here with you. I was engaged three weeks ago, for goodness’ sake.”

He backs off immediately. “Shit. You’re right. This is too early for you. I’m sorry... I’ve just been too eager, so excited about this”—he motions between us—“after I’d been dead inside for so long.”

“So this thing would be a rebound for both of us,” I say, almost absentmindedly.

He blinks.

“You know, the first relationship after a long, important one? The rebound. We’re both each other’s rebound.”

“Rebound...” He sounds like his brain was just wiped by a space laser.

“Rebounds are not serious,” I continue. “They don’t really go anywhere. They’re fun and help people heal.”

Joe finally regains some sentience. “Are you saying we’ve met so we could heal each other?”

“I mean, I don’t think some divine being thrust us together for that purpose, no.

But think about it. Right out of the gate, we get along like a house on fire.

I’m out of an engagement that’s left me disillusioned, your marriage had a similar effect on you.

So I say we just enjoy each other for however long this lasts. A rebound.”

Joe’s eyebrows shoot up. “You are suggesting a casual relationship?”

“Yes.” I’m feeling increasingly proud of myself for coming up with this very grownup, very woman-of-the-world idea.

“And you’re sure what you’re proposing isn’t too soon for you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it is. Something serious certainly would be, so that’s obviously out of the question.

But I really like you and...” I’m feeling bold.

Stupidly bold. “I really want to be close to you. This isn’t like me at all, but it somehow feels like maybe it is. It feels right in my chest, you know?”

In my excitement, I’ve hopped up on the sofa, so I’m kneeling on it sideways. I’m still barely taller than Joe, who’s leaning against the backrest, and looking to the side, at me.

“It feels right to me, too,” he says, his voice a little strangled.

This emboldens me further— seriously, was something in this can of soda I drank just now? —so I straddle his thighs and sit down on his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. He presses me against his chest, hands stroking my back through my thick sweatshirt.

“I don’t want any mention of anyone else when we’re together like this,” he says thickly. “Specifically not my ex-wife and not your ex-fiancé. Understood?”

I nod.

“I don’t want to know what you did with someone else or what I did with someone else. Just you and me, together, now.”

Nodding, I smile and scratch his beard.

“Tell me what you like, then. Or better yet, show me,” he says.

My heart thunders under my breastbone. “Look, Joe,” I say, licking my lips. “I haven’t been with many guys...”

“That’s okay,” he says, pushing away a strand of hair that always falls over my eye. “I haven’t been with many guys either.”

I laugh and swat him on his shoulder.

“Seriously now, I’m not some kind of player, either. I got married young.”

“So we’re both clueless rebounders?” I try to make light, because I feel close to bursting. With heat, with pressure, with excitement. I want him .

He chuckles. “No. Not clueless. People we cared about foolishly let us go, but we should be thankful because we get to be together right now, right here, and even though we just met, it feels absolutely perfect.”

I get a little choked up at his words, so all I can do is nod.

I cup his cheek and run my short nails through his beard, our eyes fixated on each other’s, pupils dilating.

His lips are full and look very soft, and he’s breathing in shallow pants.

The tip of his tongue darts across his teeth, those magnificent, long, beautiful teeth, and I suddenly feel like I’m possessed.

I trace the outline of his mouth with my thumbs, the two mirroring each other, first the edge of his top lip, then the bottom, and then I just have to dip them into his mouth, in the groove between his top teeth and upper lip.

I slowly move across his gums, and I know this is bizarre but fuck if those teeth aren’t the sexiest thing I’ve seen in my life.

“What are you doing?” Joe asks, a little muffled because my fingers are in his mouth.

“You have amazing teeth,” I say. “Just the nicest teeth I’ve ever seen on anyone in real life.”

He huffs with amusement. “It felt a little like you were trying to figure out my age. You know, the way they do with horses.”

I chuckle and lean down to kiss him on the neck, behind his ear. “What if I was? What would the teeth say?”

“They’d say I’m thirty-four.”

“Wow. Well, your geriatric status notwithstanding, you have absolutely gorgeous teeth. And such a beautiful smile.”

He stiffens beneath me. “Am I ... too old for you?”

I pull back. “Hey, I was just joking. Of course you’re not too old. I’m twenty-seven. Not exactly a kid.”

“Okay.” He visibly relaxes, and runs his hands absentmindedly up and down my back. “You know I think you’re gorgeous, right? Like, gorgeous all around, and not just your mouth bones, like me?”

I laugh. “I’m not, but thank you.”

“Oh, I disagree. I haven’t even seen you naked, but I just know you are.

” He brushes his fingertips across my cheekbone, then buries his hand in my hair, right beneath my disaster of a bun.

He feels around a bit, testing the tightness, then tugs at my scrunchie and pulls it off.

My hair spills all over my shoulders. It’s a day after the most recent wash, so I tell myself it shouldn’t look too terrible.

He puts the scrunchie down on the couch armrest in a move so careful you’d think he were disarming a landmine, then uses his fingers to fan my locks out and to the side, spreading them like a blanket while his eyes fill with awe.

“You have beautiful hair. It’s so soft,” he says as he rubs a strand between his fingers. “And so shiny. I noticed it when you first got to Hops & Curds, even with the hood on.”

I smile. “You don’t miss much, do you?”

“Oh, I do. I miss a ton. But I don’t want to miss anything about this.”