Rebound (Love Burns #1) Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  REBOUND

  First edition. January 14, 2016.

  Copyright © 2016 Yolanda Olson.

  Written by Yolanda Olson.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Thank You

  For Everyone Who Has Wanted to Find True Love.

  Rebound | Love Burns #1

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Epilogue

  Agony

  One

  Two

  Thank You

  To my street team Villains & Vixens! You guys are amazing and never cease to amaze me.

  To Megan Boyko for such amazing pictures for this cover! You rocked this so hard!

  To M. Chernesky / life in pixels studios for taking such great pictures! I appreciate the great job you did!

  To Just write. Creations for making the cover into everything I hoped it could be and more!

  To my readers who wanted me to write an HEA. This was a tough one, but I’m pretty sure I nailed it. My way, of course.

  P.S. I also put a little present at the end of this..

  For Everyone Who Has Wanted to Find True Love.

  Rebound

  Love Burns #1

  Prologue

  I smiled when the cup of coffee was sat down in front of me. I was sitting across from a handsome man in a suit and something about the way he looked at me made my body shiver in delight.

  This was the first time we were meeting each other and he told me he wanted to know my story; our story. I didn’t know why I was so eager to talk about it with a complete stranger, but I knew it would be a good way to get to know him better and for him to know more about me, so I obliged.

  I had always been something of a recluse and I blamed my upbringing on that. I was the result of a teenage pregnancy and even though my mother and father eventually got married and popped out more kids, my grandparents decided that they were too young to keep me at the time. I grew up in the system and my foster mother liked to remind me every day that I wasn’t loved. One time she even said to me, “Your own parents couldn’t love you, why should anyone else?”

  Charming lady, that bitch. She had other children in her house of her own, but took me on to extend whatever benefits she could get out of me and always used to beat me just for the hell of it. It was no wonder that I was in so many abusive relationships. I felt like they were what I deserved.

  When I finally felt like I was ready for a real relationship, and not some restraining order taking, domestic violence case filing shit-bag, I jumped back into the dating pool. Since everything was done online these days which made it easier for me, being a homebody. If I wasn't watching Dirty Dancing (my favorite love movie ever) and praying that a Johnny would magically appear out of nowhere, I was watching true crime shows and eating ice cream. I rarely left my room but I was happy, and I thought that was all that mattered. However, there were still those days where I would wish that the next text on my phone was from my one true love and not just my friends.

  I guess I allowed myself a pity party every now and again, with only one person in attendance; me, the main event.

  Today was a little bit different though. I had finally gotten the nerve to sign up for a dating website and was sitting at my desk, staring at my laptop waiting for a notification to come through. The movie had finished a little while ago, but I wasn't really paying attention to it; I was too busy waiting for an inbox message. A view on my profile. Something, anything, that told me I might have a chance in hell with someone.

  I tried to make my About Me section as whimsical as possible. I wanted it to stand out in the sea of new profiles. My username was half standard, half creative. LunarRevolver was what I used, because my first name was actually Luna and I always to loved reading Revolver magazine on the days I wouldn’t come home from school right away. I even spent some time as a kid with some of my friends on hunting trips.

  Anyway, I had added some HTML coding to it and it looked pretty good. Showed my nerdy but playful side, so I knew I would find someone fun, if I found anyone at all.

  I was bound and determined to find some kind of interaction, so I decided to replay the movie and sit there until someone noticed me.

  It didn’t happen the first day, and it didn’t happen the second day either. Hell, it took three weeks before I finally got a notification that said someone had finally viewed my profile.

  “And that was pretty much how our story started. On a random dating website, on a random day, that I was randomly watching my favorite love story on the face of the Earth. Now let me tell you how it ended,” I said, lighting a smoke and leaning back in the chair.

  One

  Two Weeks Ago

  We chose Thursday nights as our date nights. Fridays, we soon found out, were way too crowded out in the social world, and Saturdays were damn near impossible to get a table anywhere.

  He put his arm around me as we left the restaurant and held me close. I was finally happy for once in my life. Not the fake kind of happy I would put on in the rare moments I would go out into the real world, but the kind of happy that I knew my parents must’ve felt when they conceived me.

  I never thought that he would ever be able to convince me to leave my room, let alone my home. After we first started chatting and I got comfortable with him online, we got into a few details.

  I found out his real name was Nixon Thorne and he found out that my real name was Luna Lizbeth Odell. I found out that he was twenty eight years old and he found out that I was twenty six years old.

  Nixon was definitely imposing to look at. He had to be at least six foot four and had a constantly mean look on his face. He had a semi-long brown beard and even longer brown hair; tattoos finished off his look, and I loved that people would part like the Red Sea whenever we approached. What no one really knew about him that I did, was that he was the sweetest, kindest, most loving man anyone would ever want to meet.

  We looked like such an odd match in person. I barely scraped over five feet tall, had longish brown hair, and somehow managed to always have a cheerful expression on my face. I attributed that to something I had read when I was in school. What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger. Since so many people had already tried to emotionally murder me and failed, I felt like a strong enough person to smile about life. I had a couple of piercings, here and there and a couple of tattoos of my own, but nowhere near as many as Nixon.

  We walked over to his car and he opened the passenger door for me. He was a gentleman that way always making sure that ladies were first; through doors, in chairs, in his car, and in bed.

  For as big as he was, and by that I mean tall and solid, I assumed that he would be very gentle lover. I thought he knew that if he lost control, he’d probably snap me in half. Not that I would complain. I wanted him to lose control at least once, so I could experience him fully, but he always fought me on it.

  I strapped on my seat belt while he closed my door for me, and I waited for him to get into the driver’s side. It was a particularly warm night in April and we had just tried the new place by the harbor. I had a thing for seafood, and even though he was more of a steak man himself, he agreed to try it out.

  “How’d you like it?” he asked, slipping his key into the ignition and bringing the engine to life.

  “It was really good! Thanks for bring me,” I replied enthusiastically.

  “You’re welcome,” he said with a smile.

  As he strapped his seat belt on I heard his sto
mach grumble and I sighed. Sometimes, I felt that Nixon could be too eager to be pleasing, but I knew that once the dust settled off our relationship, it would change and I might get to see more of the real him.

  “Sorry,” he said with a laugh, pulling out onto the street. “Fish doesn’t really fill me.”

  “It’s okay. Stop and get a burger somewhere or something,” I replied, putting a hand on his leg.

  He nodded and started to drive us back to his place, stopping at a fast food place along the way. My hand never left his leg when he drove. It was a preference of his for some reason and since Nixon was always falling all over himself to please me, I thought I could show him that I really did care about him every once in a while. Not to say that I didn’t love him, because I felt like I did, I just wasn’t as big on the PDA as he was.

  “Want anything?” he asked, pulling into the drive-thru.

  “I’m full, thank you.”

  The ashamed look on his face made me instantly regret my words. He looked like I had just stung him when I really didn’t mean to.

  “You know that I don’t care about how much you eat. You’re tall and strong; you need more nourishment than the average man,” I added quickly with a smile.

  A soft chuckle was his response, but ended up stopping at a new burger joint along the way. He parked the car in the almost empty lot, asked me if I was sure I didn’t want anything, then gave me a kiss before he got out of the car and went in.

  I had a feeling he was embarrassed about eating again so soon, but he didn’t have to be. Like I said, Nixon was a very tall man, and quite solid. Big strong arms, a little extra in the middle, and I just loved when he would hold me against him.

  But I guess everyone had their own insecurities and I was part of that crowd. The Insecurities Club as I liked to think about it, and I was pretty sure that I could be the president.

  I glanced at the fast food restaurant and sighed when I saw him sitting at one of the tables eating. I pulled my seatbelt off and got out of the car. I wasn’t planning on going in because he obviously wanted to be alone, but I thought being silly could be fun.

  I saddled up by the window next to him and knocked on it gently. I couldn’t help but laugh when he jumped and looked at me with a mouthful of his burger. Once he regained his composure he raised an eyebrow as I turned around and glanced at him over my shoulder. I did a couple of racy little dance moves, before I waved and ran back to the car.

  After I got back into the passenger seat, I turned slightly to look at the window again and smiled when I saw Nixon was heading toward the car.

  “Did you finish your food?” I asked when he got in.

  “No, but it’s okay,” he said, pulling on his seatbelt and turning the car on.

  I immediately felt bad. I wanted to be cute, funny, and flirtatious, and the only thing I had managed to do was make him throw the rest of his food away.

  “Sorry,” I said softly.

  “Don’t be. I said it’s okay,” he replied.

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, Nixon cleared his throat, and then it was silence the rest of the way back to his place. It didn’t surprise me that I had fucked up our night out. All I ever used to hear about as a child was that I was a screw up, but I never wanted to let him down and for the first time since we’d been together, it seemed like I did.

  I guess now was as good a time as any to ask him something that had been bothering me since we had left the burger joint.

  “Hey Nix?” I said.

  “Hm?”

  “I didn’t embarrass you, did I?” I asked nervously.

  “No.”

  I sighed unhappily as we drove in silence the rest of the way back to his place. Something was up with Nix lately and I just couldn’t figure out what it was.

  Two

  We were sitting on his couch watching a movie on Netflix. It was our usual thing to do after we went out and ate. Simple, easy, and made us both happy.

  There were other things that made us happy too, but being together alone, wrapped up in our little world was usually what we liked best.

  “What do you think?” he asked, breaking me out of my thoughts.

  “About what?” I asked, glancing up at him.

  He smiled and turned his attention back to the movie. We were watching one of his favorites; the original House on Haunted Hill. It seemed like the millionth time we had watched this, but I totally understood. He saw something beautiful in the movie, the same way I did in Dirty Dancing.

  I honestly didn’t know what he was talking about though. He was great company but he very rarely liked to hold a conversation. A few words here and there were the most I would get out of him.

  What are you talking about? I wondered, still looking up at him.

  “Nix?” I asked, giving his side a gentle poke.

  “Yeah?” he asked. His eyes were glued on the screen. I found myself wondering if he would tell me what he was eluding to tonight, but after the fast food place debacle, I didn’t want to push him any further.

  “Sorry,” that’s one of my favorite parts he said with a sheepish grin. I glanced at the television and cringed. I always hated the part with the old lady seemingly floating past the girl. It always gave me the creeps.

  I reached up and gave his beard a playful tug. “What were you talking about, silly?”

  He didn’t say anything. Instead he let his eyes linger on my face for a moment before he turned his attention back to the movie.

  I’m gonna end up snapping that damn DVD and throwing it away.

  I was frustrated to say the least. I wanted to know what he was talking about and obviously he was playing his usual game of If You Can’t Remember, That’s Not My Problem.

  I finally relented and laid my head back on to his chest. We watched the rest of the movie in silence and when it was over, he slid away from me and went over to the PlayStation to take the movie out. Even though we had been streaming it, he liked to have his disc in for some reason. It didn’t work anymore, but it made him happy to be able to take it out when we were done watching the movie.

  "Wanna watch something else?" he asked, glancing to his right. I hated when he did that. It made me feel like he didn't think of me enough to actually turn to look at me. I never brought it up to him though. Even though we had been together for six months, I was still learning new little quirks about him.

  I got up from the couch, went over to where he was crouched in front of the entertainment system, and wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders.

  "Do you plan on telling me what you were talking about?" I whispered into his ear. That was the one thing about Nixon; whispers, regardless of what you were saying, always made him turn into a puddle of compliance. It was definitely a fun little trick I used sometimes when I wanted to get what I wanted.

  "Don't remember my proposal?" he asked, leaning back against me.

  "If I did, I wouldn't have to keep asking you," I replied with a soft chuckle. I let my hands go limp around his shoulders, sliding my fingertips under the neck of his shirt. That was another thing he loved; being grazed lightly by my fingers. That usually made him hard and ready to go. Of course, we had never really gone anywhere yet, but I knew the trick to get him to stand up and pay attention.

  He leaned back and rubbed my neck with his lips. That was his trick to get me wet and quivering. The feel of his beard and the incredible softness of his lips always made me want to jump him.

  One day, I thought as I let my hands wander further down into his shirt. I think of one my favorite things about Nix was his slight tummy. I liked it so much because it made him real; not that weird fantasy that all women have of six pack abs that I never understood.

  He took a deep breath to calm himself, before he reached up, and pulled my hands out of his shirt. I stood up with a frustrated grunt and walked out of his apartment. I was getting sick and tired of him stopping me before we ever got to anything good, and I was going to have a smoke, which he hated
, to keep myself from freaking out on him. I walked around the side of the beige and white colored brick building and sank down onto the small patch of grass underneath his living room window.

  It didn't take long before I heard the front door open and the sound of his heavy footsteps as he came around the side of the building. His shadow cast over me and I glanced up in time to see his unapproving head shake. With a sigh, he dropped down next to me and grabbed my cigarette.

  "Can I have that back please?" I asked irritably.

  "Sure," he replied. Before Nixon handed the cigarette back to me, he put it between his lips, inhaled deeply, coughed just as hard, and stuck his tongue out in disgust. "Ugh. I haven't had one of those in a long time."

  What?

  The look on my face made him laugh and he gave me a nudge, but didn't elaborate further. All that shit he gave me about smoking since I first lit up in front of him, and it turns out he was a former smoker himself.

  “So, what’s up? Why’d you walk out here in a huff?” he asked as he leaned his head back against the building and closed his eyes.

  I shrugged and flicked the ashes off of the end of my cigarette. Truth was; I was completely sexually frustrated, and considering we had been together for six months already, I would’ve thought he would be all over me by that point.

  “Luna, tell me.”

  I took a deep breath and flicked the half smoked cigarette into the street. He wasn’t going to stop asking until I told him, and I guess I should’ve been happy that he cared enough to ask at all.

  “Just wondering when, um ... you know,” I replied uncomfortably.

  “If I knew I wouldn’t have to ask,” he remarked with a chuckle.

  Here goes nothing.

  “Are you comfortable being around me?” I asked quietly, glancing up at him.

  Nixon nodded, crossed his hands behind his head, and waited for me to continue.

  “Then why do you stop me every time I try to get sexual with you?” I blurted out.