Not the Rebound Guy by Abby Knox (best classic romance novels txt) 📕

for high school football games. “No thanks,” I say. I want to say that I don’t wish to sit alone in a stadium seat in the grass. What I want to say is I want to stick close to him.

Seeming to read my mind, Garrett extends one arm out to me. “Feel free to use me as your movie-watching sofa.”

I settle into the warm crook of his arm, and he squeezes me close. I can still feel the ridges of the truck bed liner digging into my hip, but not as much with Garrett absorbing half of my weight against his chest.

This is cozy. Just two friends cuddling in the back of the truck, a romantic movie on the screen, a picnic blanket spread with fruit and cheese and wine. Stars. Fireflies. Patrick Swayze.

Don’t you dare fall for him, my mind insists. This is not romance. The air is not filled with magic. It’s filled with gnats and mosquitoes. Unsupervised kids are running around outside late at night during a movie that is not family-friendly at all. That cornfield over there is full of pesticides and is probably interfering with poor Garrett’s bee colony somehow. Someone is smoking a cigarette nearby when its clearly posted that’s against the rules at this drive-in.

Nothing about this is romantic. Nothing. Nope. Nada. Zilch.

It’s not the least bit sweet that that hard thigh of his is nestled next to mine. Or, more precisely, almost nestled between mine. There’s nothing amorous about that mysterious, woody smell that’s all over him. The fact that his hair is falling into his eyes and all my hands want to do is reach up and play with it? Just flirtation. Just my horny body calling the shots. Not romance, and indeed not love.

“Was this a bad idea?”

He looks over at me. “Eliza,” he says, running his hand through my hair.

The flickering lights of the screen highlight the sharp edges of his jaw-droppingly handsome face. Garrett’s Adam’s apple bobs, his eyes become hooded, his jaw clicks. All the hidden parts of my body respond to these signals. My throat dries up even as my mouth waters, as if that makes any sense. My palms sweat. The night breeze wafting over my skin excites me. My nipples tighten. The muscles of my sex clamp down around nothing. I wet my lips and blink up at him.

“I don’t want to like you this much, Garrett.”

“That’s the thing, though. You do like me, and I like you. So let’s give it a shot.”

“I can’t date a rebound guy.”

He closes his other arm around me. “Then let’s just call this what it is. I’m your rebound guy, and nothing more. No hearts broken. No promises made. Just fun. Just chill. Just enjoy the moment.”

“One minute you seem like a flirty, sweet country boy angling for a wife, and the next moment you’re a zen master free-love sex guru. I can’t figure you out.”

“I’m both, depending on what you want me to be.”

“You’re going to force me to give you a nickname. Garth Buddha.”

“Whatever you want, that’s me, lovely. Enjoy the ride.”

Chapter Ten

Garrett

I’m such a liar. I’m already in too deep. It’s going to break both our hearts when Eliza leaves. And I’ve already made promises to myself. I’ve changed my floor plans because of her. What’s wrong with me? If you build it, she will come. Is that what I’m doing? Because that might be a sight too cheesy, even for me. She’s, what, not supposed to be freaked out by that?

Maybe she’s what I want, but what if I’m not what she needs?

Eliza needs a slick city boy who can take her to fancy restaurants, museums, and concerts whenever she wants. She needs excitement that I can’t give her. Then again, if she doesn’t stay? Then I’m not out anything but a more oversized bathroom.

Yeah, right. You’ll be devastated.

But my heart doesn’t care. My hands, my mouth, my soul kick my conscience out the door. I just want to be reckless with her.

I press my mouth over hers, and the electrical storm is instant. This kiss is going to take us to new, uncharted places. I could plumb all the depths with Eliza, right out here in the open. In front of the whole town of Piper’s Grove—and it’s a safe bet everyone in town is here on a Friday night—I won’t be able to stop myself from getting lost in her completely.

Breathless, I pull back from the kiss to look into her eyes. This confirms she feels what I’m feeling. Those gorgeous hazels are wide and wild. Eliza reaches up and grips my neck, pulling me back down for another kiss. This time, our kiss is a little more frantic. She pushes her tongue into my mouth, and I welcome it passionately.

The kiss leads to fumbling hands over clothes and legs intertwining. Her torso nests against my chest, our hearts pounding together, our shared breathing exchanging heat. She deepens the kiss even more, pressing herself closer. With her arms around my neck, my hands are free to memorize her warm, writhing body, noting what she likes, what she responds to.

Ever since she told me about her ex and his refusal to service her, I’ve been picturing how I would go about giving her what she deserves. Eliza is owed. Every inch of her body needs to be worshiped, and I am the only man fit to do it.

I want to get her out of here. Her tongue explores my mouth with urgency when I squeeze her curves, the plump little butt, her soft breasts that fill up my hands. She lets out a sexy moan into my mouth when I squeeze her breast, thumbing her nipple through the layers of fabric.

I want to rip and tear, rid us both of all of our clothes.

There’s just one problem. I’m reminded of one of those problems when I hear the screeching of kids running up and down the aisles of cars, treating the