Chapter 9: The Rebound Rule

For three days Keith and I worked eight feet apart and did not touch each other.

He left a coffee on my desk each morning.

It had too much milk and one sugar, exactly how I take it, and I had never told him.

I fixed his calendar and he thanked me in front of the whole lab.

On Thursday night he offered to drive me home.

"It's pouring," he said. "Your mother's house is on my way."

"It's across the river. You live the other direction."

"I like the river."

I got in.

His car was clean and smelled of cedar, and the heater ticked.

He drove with both hands on the wheel and said nothing, and I stared at the wipers.

When he turned onto my mother's street, he pulled up two houses short of her porch light.

He put the car in park.

The rain drummed on the roof.

"I'm not going to say anything," Keith said.

"Good."

"I'm going to sit here and not say it very loudly."

I laughed.

Then I unbuckled my seat belt and climbed across the console and kissed him.

He made a low sound against my mouth, and his hands came up to my waist.

For a while there was no conversation at all.

He kissed me slowly, thoroughly, one hand cupping the back of my neck.

I pushed my fingers into his hair.

His other hand slipped under my cardigan and spread across the bare skin of my back.

I arched into him before I could stop myself.

"Nessa," he said, rough.

I straddled his lap, and my knee hit the gearshift, and he swore, and we both laughed into each other's mouths.

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