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Rejected

Rebecca

The image of Parker enjoying his food slipped from her vision as memories of Kade took its place, the sights and sounds of the bar fading into nothingness as the warm hum of remembrance rushed across her.

Kade. His smile illumined by the sun as it splashed across his features on the lake that day. They’d been fishing together, the air chilly and the morning quiet. Her shorts were short and her T-shirt fitting. The hope was to grab his attention in any manner possible and make him want her the way she wanted him.

There was nothing like heading out to Lake Conroe and taking Kade’s daddy’s boat out into the water. She was fine fishing, but she wasn’t baiting her hook, and she sure as heck wasn’t pulling a catfish off of it. She’d seen her own dad get a nasty cut across the middle of his palm, thanks to the jerking of an angry catfish.

“Whatcha thinking about, Becca?” Kade’s voice brought her attention back to him, the water shimmering just beyond the edge of the boat.

A smile touched her mouth as butterflies beat against the inside of her stomach. “Just thinking how useless this day would be if you weren’t here.”

He laughed. “You getting mushy on me?”

She shook her head and leaned back in the boat, propping her arms up behind her and closing her eyes as she lifted her chin toward the sky.

“Nope, just saying that without you pinching the worm, there would be no fishing for me.”

He chuckled, his voice deep and rich, its soft timbre stirring up her hormones. “I’m so glad I could be of use to you.”

The sun did little to warm her skin, but she willed herself into ignoring the cold enough to appear laid back and comfortable in front of him. After being friends for so long, one would think it would be easy, but the truth of the matter was that in front of him she felt forever exposed.

What had he done to steal her heart and cause her to think of no one but him? She squinted through the bright rays of light reflected by the water and focused on him. His head was tilted down, his teeth biting at his lip as he worked the worm onto the hook. His dark brown hair was a disheveled mess and his strong masculine features were contorted in concentration, highlighting a wicked hot mouth that she was dying to kiss.

They’d never done much more than brush by each other casually, and she imagined that her desire for him was much greater than anything he might be feeling for her. Would there be a day when he finally realized that she was the girl next door? That she was the one he’d been looking for, searching for aimlessly for all these years?

“You’re thinking too hard,” he muttered, his gaze shifting toward her as a smirk tugged at his lips.

“How do you know I’m thinking?”

“Because you’ve stopped talking. I’ve known you most of my life. You’re talking or thinking. I don’t even know if you know how to rest.” He finished and stood, the boat shaking a little.

She couldn’t help but let her eyes draw across the curve of his butt, the thick muscles of his thighs pressing against his dirty jeans.

“I know how to rest. I’m resting now. Look at me.” She lounged back and closed her eyes again, trying hard to suck in and pose in a manner that accentuated her girlish figure.

“I don’t need to look at you, silly girl. I know what you look like. You look the same way you did when we were six.” He laughed, and the boat jolted as he cast the line into the water.

His words set off an ache in her chest. She sat up, reaching for the sides of the boat, and said with a growl, “I don’t look like a six-year-old.” She huffed and reached up to pull her long hair into a ponytail. Enough with being cute. He obviously wasn’t going to see her as anything other than what he always had—a friend or, worse yet, a sister.

He turned and offered her the pole as he winked. “You will always be a cute little six-year-old to me. Your pigtails and high-pitched screams when you get dirt in your fingernails are forever engrained in my mind.”

She rolled her eyes and turned to focus on the fish. She’d have better luck catching dinner from the bottom of the lake than the boy two feet beside her.

The memory was as clear in her mind as if it had just happened, but it hadn’t. It had been seventeen or eighteen years since that day, when she had, once again, been rejected by him. Maybe he hadn’t been the right guy for her after all.

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